“Possession is a lot harder than the movies would have you believe, kid. Have you ever thought about it? I mean, pulling off a convincing switcharoo? Satan forbid your target is a CEO or some super scientist, or some other career oriented person with responsibilities. And if they have family? Friends? That’s a lot of threads, each of which could be pulled to unravel your ruse. That’s why you’ve got to pick your target carefully.”

Azirowley poured the orange juice into a tall glass, and slid it across the table. The child grabbed the glass with two tiny hands.

“Is that why you picked my Daddy?”

The demon stiffened. The young ones didn’t usually learn subtly, yet. He’d forgotten that.

He’d also forgotten how fucking BIG their eyes were, compared to the rest of their tiny bodies. Honestly, children were fucking freakish. And the gaze of those bright, brown eyes burned him like a hot spring of holy water.

The demon turned his back to the child, and tended to the stove. The pancakes would be ready soon.

“Yes.” Azirowley replied, deciding a direct question warranted a direct answer. A lazy wave of a hand, and the child’s emptied glass was full again.

“No employment, no friends, cut off all his ties to his siblings and parents— all the less people to notice if something was suddenly odd. Takes the pressure off of passing.”

“Except me and Mommy.”

“Except you and your mother, yes. Now, hold out your plate.”

The demon faced the child, frying pan in hand. The child lifted her plate. Her arms bowed with the weight of the stack of pancakes Azirowley unceremoniously plopped down.

“Your dad was, respectfully, a scumbag. A real lowlife. I’ve seen a lot, kid. Between you and me, I’m 6000 years old.” Azirowley poured an extremely generous amount of syrup over the stack of pancakes. A small shaker materialized in front of the child’s eyes, seemingly out of nowhere. Her eyebrows shot up. The girl looked to the demon, as if for an explanation. Azirowley smiled.

“Professionals have standards, and all that.”

Azirowley tapped the bottom of the shaker, and coated the syrup in powdered sugar. A snap of the fingers later, strawberry slices winked into reality on top.

“Now, eat up. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

The child stared at the demon. Her decadent breakfast went untouched.

“Hey, kid? For Satan’s sake, you’re creeping me out, staring at me like that! What, got something to say?” Azirowley flopped himself into the chair next to the child, and returned the girl’s stare.

“See how you like it, some bug-eyed creature lookin’ into your soul.”

Something wrinkled and stretched across the girls face. She turned her eyes to the magical breakfast. With a fork, she poked and pushed the plate. She looked back to Azirowley through the corners of her eyes.

“You’re… not going to hurt us.”

It was Azirowley’s turn for something to wrinkle and stretch across his face. The child turned her body to face him, and continued.

“If you wanted to hurt me or Mommy, you would’ve done it already. Like Daddy would’ve.” She tilted her head. “But… you haven’t. You make me food. You make Mommy laugh. You keep the big men away.” The girl picked a strawberry slice from off the top of the pancakes and popped it into her mouth.

“You must be a pretty shitty demon.” She concluded.

Azirowley barked with laughter, and nearly fell out of his chair from doubling over.

“I like you, kid!” Laughter peeling off, the demon settled back down in his seat.

“You’re wicked smart, you know that?” A mischievous glint in the girl’s eyes answered him back, as she stuffed her mouth with strawberries and sugar. There might’ve even been a smile somewhere on that face.

“And you’re right. I don’t target children, not my thing. And your mother, she’s done nothing wrong. Now, I’m a demon— but even I don’t attack without reason.” He leaned in.

“As long as I am occupying this vessel— er, as long as I look like your Daddy— I will do my best to not let you or your mother get hurt. Satan’s sake, you’ve been though enough already. Okay?”

The girl furrowed her brow, pondering his statement. Azirowley could see the wheels turning in her head. How a shitbag like his vessel could have such a delightful child, he had no idea.

“Okay.” The girl jutted her chin, and held out a syrupy, sugary hand. “You use Daddy as a vessel, and keep me and Mommy safe. Deal.”

A smile spread across Azirowley’s face. Without hesitation, the demon moved to take the child’s hand in his. But at the last minute, the girl drew back her hand.

“On one more condition.”

Azirowley’s eyebrows shot up his forehand. He was still leaning forward, his hand frozen from the would-be shake. The girl’s hand was up next to the side of her face.

“I’m listening.”

“When you go? When you don’t need Daddy’s body anymore?” The child looked at him with those big brown eyes, bright and sharp as a flaming sword.

“Don’t let him come back. Drag him to hell and keep him there.” The girl’s hand came back to Azirowley’s. With a chuckle, he gave her hand a gentle shake.

“Kid, it would be my pleasure. Deal, you little menace!”

The demon swooped up the child with a flourish, eliciting delighted shrieks that rang throughout the desolate, run down kitchen.

Yeah. He had a good feeling about this.