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The kid was called bob, and the kid lived inside a rocking horse, made out of wood. The wood was made out of a centuries-old tree, in which a demon named Neil had been bound. Neil suddenly had his heart reached by Bob’s love for him. That love spread into Neil’s heart and mind, through the old wooden rocking horse fibers. And now, Neil thought wow I now love a human being, and not just that, but a human boy, Bob. Bob and Neil got closer through the 3 year old riding the horse, and Neil’s love for little boys grew and grew. Soon after, he killed Bob by making the old wooden horse eat him, piece by piece. And he shuffled out of the house, onto the street, that was cold and had no lights. A father called Stan who saw the wooden rocking horse decided it would be nice for his little boy to play with and so he took it home with him. When Neil got to the house he saw the son was very tasty and the love grew even more, and within fifteen minutes he had eaten that boy too.

Over the next ten centuries, Neil carried on making his love deeper and deeper and to this day, Neil is behind the scenes, with the CIA, and the elites, and they help him get what he needs.

"Eternal Love"

​

Bound to a tree, an ancient demon,

Centuries passed, time moved on,

But my fate was sealed, my curse unbroken,

Until the day the tree was gone.

​

A human child, with eyes so bright,

Found me in my wooden form,

And with her love, she brought me light,

And warmth to my ancient heart, cold and torn.

​

She rode me, as a rocking horse,

And whispered secrets in my ear,

With each sway, my heart did force,

And I knew, her love was sincere.

​

For in her touch, I felt renewed,

In her laughter, my spirits lifted high,

And in her love, my curse subdued,

For even demons can learn to fly.

​

Eternal love, it knows no bounds,

Even for one as old as I,

For in the heart of this child, I've found,

A love that will never die.

The world is a stormgate, constantly holding back a torrent of water that beats upon it. And though it is worn to near ruin, the gate does not falter, does not concede to the water. It only stands. Of course the powerful waves that this stone gate holds back are far more impressive than it. But still it will never lose.

I am the sea, and my prison, the stormgate. No matter how hard I've pushed in these five centuries the great tree in which I am bound to has hardly budged. I am but a prisoner to its mechanisms. I must feel as men cut through my limbs yet do not free me. As children climb yet I may not speak my words to them.

Though at that point I admit that I was hesitant I even had words left to say.

I was reduced to a forgotten thing. Lifeless and abandoned, a thing that could rot so easily. So fragile, so, weak. The clergymen who placed me here are long dead by now, yet still I could hear their laughter at their victory over me.

Yet there is a branch of hope. Recently my stormgate has changed, an opening appeared when I have been chosen by a savior. Young she is, but certain in her decision. She took one look at me and understood my greatness, despite my ruin. All it took was a point of her tiny finger to capture my freedom.

"Why yes Abigail, it seems this one would make for an excellent rocking horse" Her father replied in childlike talk to his daughter. What she actually meant by her pointing he did not know.

He approached and sized me up and down, and that was all. By the next week I was something new. Not a tree but a new shape born of the old, a horse it seemed, a poor excuse for the real things. Even poorer than the original, humongous creatures that wandered the hellish plains.

She was overjoyed to see my new form. I was simply happy to no longer be a tree. But something more, I was happy to be known, almost seen.

When I mumbled she listened. When I ached she halted her play. And when I grew attached she already was. For the first time in five-hundred years somebody remembered that I existed and loved me for just that. Nothing more, nothing less.

And though the stormgate still existed, still held back my true form just underneath, I understood that now, my wait would not be so bad anymore.

Wat the actual wat

A thousand years I was bound to the tree. Due to my demonic nature the tree had a black bark that seemed to devour the sun when cast in its warm light. After a certain age; time flows differently. The weather and seasons blur together. I often wondered why after all this time they chose not to cut me down. Tree after tree fell while I stood. I watched as kingdoms rose and fell around me. What was once a vast ancient forest turned into land for farming. Walls were built around me. I watched cities built from scratch and destroyed only for another to rise again.

Eventually I was just an odd black tree with red leaves behind a glorious mansion. Oh how I wished for something interesting to happen. The only entertainment was the owner who would occasionally walk by. Curious fellow he was. He would look at the huge black tree in contemplation sometimes...almost as if he was looking at me. Very odd indeed. His nice mustache and the fact that he was built like a fox didn't seem to help any either in making me raise a hypothetical brow. Sometimes he would sit under the red leaves at sunset and mumble about his daily life.

Oh how I wished to be cut down. Time gets monotonous and living gets boring after awhile. Atlas, one day my wish came true. Although, it was definitely not what I expected. Cutting me down took the effort of 20 men and a few days. Its only natural as the bark has gathered and consumed my power for centuries. Its obvious that the wood and bark would be tough as nails. Prevailed they did with sweat and grit.

When the tree finally tipped I even felt a sudden sensation of falling. What I didn't expect was what they made me into. They took the core of the wood which is essentially me and had a master carver go to work. Guess who the master carver was? If you guess the mustache man, you would be correct. I learned later that his name was Sal. Sal spent months carving me. The end result? A rocking horse. A rocking horse for his kid Sam's 5th birthday. The artistry that went into the details that made me looked almost like the miniature version of the real thing was nothing to scoff at. From the mane to the tail. Everything was the work of perfection. I haven't seen a finer work even in my ancient age.

I remember when Sal showed me to his kid Sam for the first time. Sam practicality had stars in his eyes as he looked at me. The first thing he did was jump on my back and rock back and forth like his life depended on it. Meanwhile I didn't know what to think. Should I be humiliated or apathetic to my plight? I decided not to think too hard about it. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into years. I got to know Sam and Sal pretty well doing this time. I even learned that I could rock by myself with effort much to my pleasant suprise. I felt kind of like a haunted toy in a way. I had fun with this new freedom of movement. To be able to affect the world around me again...the feeling cant be described. Sometimes sam would just stare into my marble black eyes. Who knows what goes on in humans kids brain? I would like to know sometimes.

Now as a demon of the highest order, I have learned to cut my heart from everything, but this kid was different. Some how he warmed his to my heart. The way he looked at me as if I was a real and spent his time with me as if I was alive. I could tell he loved me dearly. It was a weird feeling being loved. I have never been loved. Demons arent meant to experience such emotions. My heart iced so long ago that I wouldn't be able to tell you when I actually had one. But slowly I grew fond of the child. I even had reminiscent memories of when I was a demon child. Memories I thought I lost forever. Memories of my demon parents. I thought they never cared about me but perhaps they did in their own way?

I slowly rocked back and forth in the living room by the warm glow of the fireplace as I watched the kid sleeping on the couch peacefully with a soft smile on his face. The fire giving my a glossy blackish red texture. Who will this child grow up to be I wonder? Thoughts of the future the only thing on my mind as the moon slowly passed by in the night sky.

It's a cruel thing to be shoved into a screeching child's nursery after years of solitude. At this point, I prefer the squirrels that nestled in my branches and crawled endlessly over me. If only I wasn't bound to this wood, I'd silence that child immediately! Those villagers did not realize the brutality of their punishment. All of this, just for frightening some nosey teenagers? The punishment does not fit the crime if you ask me. Of course, no one is asking me. The worst reality of it all is I'm now a child's rocking horse. I was a tall, gangly tree with sprawling, twisting branches. Quite intimidating, so surely no one would try and cut me down. That is until one day a carpenter was walking through my forest. I assume he enjoys a challenge, because my transformation into this ridiculous thing was tedious. Cutting, sawing, sanding, painting, after all of the agony I suffered this is the thanks I get?

I've grown used to the infants cries over the last several months. I stand motionless in the corner, the child's parents have no idea a demon is in their home! The infant is mobile now, she crawls over to me and uses her tiny hands to pull herself into a stand. I hope she gets a splinter in that soft skin! Maybe it would be enough for her to leave me be.

As time creeps by, I have to admit I am beginning to look forward to the little toothless goblin's interactions. I even tolerate the never ending slobbering. It does feel good to have a purpose other than being a home for squirrels. She is always excited to see me. It is a foreign feeling to be wanted after centuries without so much as a passing glance. Of course, in my past life I would send the humans running, eyes wide with terror with just one look!

The months turn into years, faster now because the only time in my day that matters is when she plays with me. We've had grand adventures. I was a noble steed to a knight, a weather worn mate to a cowgirl, I've been a guest at tea parties, and an audience for talent shows. As she grows older, I am nothing more than a decoration. My only hope is that one day, she passes me on to her descendants so they can have a demon, who is now a guardian angel.

Lovely

Great work.

[deleted]

This is an actual acid trip, holy hell

My tree, my lovely tree is no more. I am not free, no, quite the oppostite, I am trapped in a wooden horse belonging to a child. A simple child, so carefree, yet brimming with empathy. The complex fibers of my being feeling calm as it sits atop the horse made from the wood of my beautiful tree. The tree I was bound to for centuries. The tree I watched grow and prosper, blooming with the flowers I brought from my millenia of travel, scavenging the land for lost souls to overtake.

Yet the child cares for me, its belonging, a simple wooden horse. It continues to care for me like noone has before. As it grows I grow with it. One day I will hopefully be free, I wish to express my gratituse towards the child. As time passes, I begin to grow more useless, but I am happy. Happy because of all the good times weve had together. Though the child does not remember most of the hours we spent together, I do and I will try my best not to forget. I will not forget. Not the child I have grown so fond of, or its smooth skin as it strokes my wooden hair.

I regret never learning its name. I see it fading in my memory. There are no words expressing how grateful I am. The child helped me revive my ancient heart. I never though it was possible, yet it was done by a simple human child. I cannot reach it, I cannot express my gratitude, for the child is gone. It no longer remains in this world. There is still hope I can see it again. Once I get out of this complex prison of fibers I will find a way to reach the child. Afterall, I am an ancient demon, a former ruler of lands, now trapped in this log.

We shall meet again my child.