Demons

Demons cannot do harm in real life. In dreams and reveries? Untold damage.

People in the village were saying that the girl I met on the common was a demon. They seemed pretty certain about it too. This was ridiculous. Erica had long blonde hair and blue eyes. In those days all demons were foreigners and she did not look like a foreigner.

Even so, I got her to swear blind that she was not a demon.

"Do I look like a demon?"

"No."

"Well then."

"So you're not?"

"No, Tony, I am not a demon. I could swear on a Bible."

She did and the Bible did not burst into flames either.

The village was Sodbury but Erica actually came from Nether Sodbury which was a twenty minute walk away. Nobody in Sodbury ever went there.

To say that Erica haunted my dreams would make her sound sinister. Let's just say that I haunted my own dreams with images of Erica.

My family would not countenance a marriage in Nether Sodbury and apparently Erica's family had similar feelings about Sodbury.

We married in Sodbury nevertheless. We planned to live with Erica's family for a while before we could afford a place of our own. This did not entice them to the wedding.

The day came when we took the wagon to Nether Sodbury with all my luggage. We were happy. We were young. We were in love. The sun was shining. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

Famous last words.

Erica's parents had left us discreetly alone for the day.

"Look, Tony. There is something I will just say before you carry me across the threshold. I told you I was not a demon."

"Yes," I said warily.

"And it was quite true. I was adopted by the Grim family and," she paused, "the short and long of it is that they ARE demons. They won't harm you because you're mine but it might be a little awkward because they do not sleep. Ever."

I carried her over the threshold and up to the room we had been given. It was a lovely room but the thing which struck me immediately was that there was a sharpened stake on my bedside table and Erica had a bottle of holy water on hers.

"It is better to be safe than sorry," she smiled.

We kissed. One thing led to another.

Later I said, "Erica there is something I ought to tell you. I found out that the Grims adopted you because they were missing their own son. He just wandered too far one day. He was not dead. He was himself adopted by a family in Sodbury."

"You mean?"

"We are brother and step-sister."

"Isn't that..."

"Not to demons."

"Thank Heaven"

"Hell," I corrected.

"for that."

We kissed again.

The end.

Derek McMillan is a writer in Durringon in the UK. His editor is his wife, Angela. He has written for print and online publications in the UK, USA and Canada. His latest book is the audio-book with the cheery title "Murder From Beyond the Grave" which is available on eBay. Check it out.