Trafficking in Pleasure

Genevieve lay back against the plush pillows on the large bed, nightgown clinging to her much like the boy with his head buried in his arms on her lap. The room was not hers or his – it belonged to a group of many children, but they were occupying themselves in other rooms. Genevieve was a sort of queen among the children and they obeyed her word like law; if she told them to get, they got. And so they had.

It was barely an hour since Jayden had left and Andy had been relieved of his duties to the master. He had sought Genevieve's company immediately and the girl had quickly rid them of any intrusions. The moment they were alone, he had burst in to tears.

“Are you feeling better yet?” she asked gently, removing the ribbons from his hair and unbraiding it to smooth his hair back. “Enough so to tell me what happened, at least?”

Andy sniffled a little, his tears having finally started to calm after a good five or ten minutes. Genevieve wasn't counting.

“It's... It's Sir Pentecost... he left in an awful mood after he saw me...” sniffled Andy, clutching at the silky nightgown of his friend. “Master Kyriliah made me smile and show that I was missing my fangs. Sir Pentecost must have no interest in me now that I've been damaged!”

“Oh, don't be ridiculous,” the girl cooed, stroking his hair still. “If anything, from what I've heard of this Pentecost fellow, I'd say he's likely more concerned about your damage. Why would he be angry, otherwise?”

“Why would he care? I'm just a miserable little incubus,” Andy insisted, looking up at her with a tear stained face. “He seems like such a kind and gentle man. There's no way someone like that would care about me.”

Genevieve shook her head, pulling Andy up in to her arms. “Well, there's no way of knowing by just sitting around and crying about it. You should give him a chance. You're a precious little thing. Who could blame him for falling in love at first sight?”

Andy wasn't going to be convinced, but he quieted down, letting Genevieve console him in the motherly way she had. It was nice to have someone to come to that seemed to soothe his nerves for even a short period of time. Even his own mother had never given him such comfort, so he liked to think of Genevieve as more of a sister than a mother. The word mother had a negative connotation for him.

“Andyyyyyyy!” a voice called angrily after nearly half an hour had passed. It was Kyriliah, and from the sound of it, he was beyond livid. The few times anyone had heard him in such a way, it did not bode well for the child on the receiving end of his fury. And for the first time, to the astonishment of all who heard, his anger was directed at his ever faithful little servant.

“There you are,” he hissed when he finally threw open a door and found Genevieve and Andy in the room. Much to her dismay, Genevieve released Andy and all but pushed him away from her when Kyriliah set his eyes on them. She was ashamed of herself, but all she could think was that she wanted out of the way when Kyriliah did whatever it was he would do. She didn't want to end up suffering, too. It wouldn't do anyone any good if she tried to get in the way. She could only offer comfort from the side lines, after Andy had already gone through the trials and tribulations.

Wordlessly, Kyriliah grabbed a handful of Andy's hair and dragged him off the bed and out of the room. The demon didn't spare Genevieve even a single thought once she had seperated from Andy – the boy was his only thought now. His only desire was to take out his frustration on the person he could most directly relate his anger to.

The room they went to was little used. It was a small room, barely a fourth the size of the other bedrooms in the house, not even a fraction of the size of Kyriliah's own bedroom or even his bathroom. It was practically a closet compared to Kyriliah's room. The walls bore an awful yellow wallpaper with blue flower print and a single window adorned the back wall of the room, too high up and small to be see anything out of it other than darkness. The only thing in the room was a cage, which was small but looked huge in the tiny closet-room.

Kyriliah threw Andy in to the room and while he wobbled to stay on his feet, the demon reared back and easily kicked him in the stomach. Andy sputtered, coughed up half a cup of pure liquid bile, crumpling to his knees, the wreaking liquid dripping down his shirt.

“I can't believe you embarrassed me like that!” Kyriliah hissed, pulling Andy back to his feet with another fistful of hair. “Sir Pentecost could be useful! Why did you have to flirt with him? Cast your foolish incubus charms on him? He can't have you! You're useless as merchandise! I won't have you enchanting him and taking him for yourself! I could use his patronage!” He reared back again and this time brought a hand across Andy's cheek, angry red welts lining his cheeks where Kyriliah's claws had cut deep.

“Stay in here and think about what you're doing.” The demon grabbed Andy by the back of his shirt as he lay on the floor, tossing him carelessly in to the cold steel cage. “No one will bother you here, so you can reflect in peace. Maybe by the time I remember to come get you, you'll have realized your mistake!” With a slam and click on the key in the lock, Kyriliah secured Andy in the cage and flicked the room's light off, closing him in to a room of darkness.


Andy didn't know how much time had passed. He had been wavering in and out of consciousness. He was too dehydrated to even cry and though he wretched and wretched, nothing came up. He jolted at the dull line of light that lit the room as the door inched open. Had Kyriliah come to finish him off?

“Andy?” a voice asked softly, quietly, and he wasn't sure he was even hearing right. Because he knew that voice and it had never spoken so softly to him. Had never sounded so... so worried when speaking to him. Of him. It had never spoken his name with so little spite.

Epitome stood in the doorway in his nightclothes, the dull light of the hall lamps showing the frown creasing his delicate features. “Are you okay?”

Andy shook his head, though he knew the motion was lost on the other boy, so he edged to the front of the cage. “No,” he said quietly, his voice dry and rasping.

“I brought you some water. And a washcloth.” Epitome closed the door behind him, setting a candle down and lighting it. The candle provided more light than the distant hall lamps had, but not enough to be seen under the door. “I'm sorry about what happened.”

“It's okay,” murmured the caged boy as he sipped at the tin cup of water. Sure, he reflected, Epitome had caused him much pain by this point, and it was somewhat Epitome's fault he was in this situation, the boy was here for him now. Andy liked to think Epitome had avoided him since the incident where he pulled out his fangs out of guilt and shame. All was forgiven in Andy's heart from this act of kindness. Even for Epitome, it was daring to help him when Kyriliah was in such a mood.

“I got some bread from a nursemaid, too, if you'd like.” Epitome pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, bread rolled up inside. “Sorry, it's kind of mushed.” But Andy didn't care, wolfing down the bread like he hadn't eaten in days; it and the cold water made his stomach settle and he felt better too after wiping his face of sweat and tears and his shirt of what bile he could.

Epitome watched Andy shamefacedly, never meeting his eyes. Once the bread and water was finished off, he accepted the cup and washcloth back, tucking them in his pockets with his handkerchief. “I'm sorry about all this,” he mumbled as he stood, picking up the candle. He would leave it with Andy, knew the boy didn't like the darkness, but he couldn't chance Kyriliah discovering it and punishing someone. “I'll try to look out for you while you're in here, okay? I'm sure Kyriliah will forgive you. He's always been easy on you, right?”

Andy nodded, feeling tears stinging at his eyes now that he was hydrated again. It was like everything Kyriliah had overlooked for him in the past had just come out all at once. And as the candle went out and the door closed again, Andy was wondering if he'd even make it out alive.