A Demon's Horns: Vice College For Young Demons: Year One

by Marie Mistry

  My irritation was only further heightened by the way that Bane had effortlessly swept around the room, so faultless with his movements that the old hag had used him to demonstrate to the rest of us. My mother had put me in ballet lessons the moment I was old enough to stand but, if Pruitt was to be believed, I hadn’t completed a single step correctly today.

  I hated her to a degree I hadn’t thought myself capable of. The only reason I couldn’t hate Bane too was because the entire time she had been taunting him with sly comments about his father.

  Bane hadn’t reacted visibly, but I could almost sense a little part of him dying every time she spoke to him.

  He hadn’t spoken at all since we left the class. Once we’d reached the Gatehouse he’d disappeared to his room and I doubted I’d see him again soon.

  I yanked myself up and snagged the towel lying over the radiator. I had to get clean. The sweat was beginning to make me itchy.

  I’d just made it into the bathroom when pain hit me like a ton of bricks. My eyes suddenly burned, and my organs twisted inside me. I collapsed, my knees giving out underneath me as someone began clawing at my skin from the inside.

  Maybe it was the exhaustion from the dance lessons, or perhaps it was due to hitting my head on the sink as I fell, but I passed out before I could scream like I so desperately wanted to.

  My last thought before everything went black was that mum was going to kill me if I wasn’t a Pride.

  I woke up, still lying on the floor, a crowd of people looking down at me, staring at me like I was a freak. I think the entire floor must have been there.

  I shrank backwards, feeling an answering pain in my spine and head as I moved.

  I don’t think anyone breathed.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded.

  None of them would meet my eyes; they were all staring at the top of my head. I remembered the pain.

  “Aww shit, I’m a Pride, aren’t I?” I muttered, feeling my forehead.

  Nothing.

  But I’d felt the pain of my showing.

  An unexpected weight on my head had my hand moving up to a spot on the top of my skull, three inches above my ear.

  Something hard, smooth and pointy met my fingers.

  What. The. Hell.

  I jumped up and looked in the mirror, wondering what on earth had happened to me. I freaked as soon as I saw what everyone else had been looking at.

  I had … horns?

  Instead of the huge bruise I had expected from my fall, two black protrusions had grown from my skull. They were small, only about the width and length of my little finger and swept backwards from my face. They had felt smooth, but now that I looked at them, they were made of many small uneven facets, giving the impression that they had been roughly cut from obsidian. The jet-black colour contrasted against my fair hair and made my pupils look bigger than ever.

  Then, when I thought it couldn’t have gotten worse, a small gasp from behind me alerted me to the fact that my shirt had gotten caught around the back of my bra. But when I went to pull it down, I felt… stone.

  I felt the hollow of my back… surely not.

  But there was no crystal on my head, and after extensive twisting, I realised with dread that I had gone through my showing. I was a Lust.

  I wanted to cry.

  I think that was what my onlookers expected me to do. But I didn’t.

  Somehow, I held it together long enough to slam the door in their faces and step into the shower, wincing as the hot water stung the raw skin around the crystal that had just determined my fate.

  Then, with the water there to wash away the evidence, I let the tears fall silently.

  Not only was I now a member of the mysterious and crazy Lust caste, I was a freak.

  No demons had horns.

  None.

  It was just a fairy tale for human kids.

  Then what the hell was on my head?

  Steeling myself, I brought both hands up to feel them. Just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. I had hit my head after all.

  My stomach sank all over again as my hands came into contact with them.

  They were real.

  I vomited into the drain.

  By the time I left the bathroom, it had been long enough for everyone to disperse.

  Not trusting the suspiciously empty hallway, I dashed for my room. I made it inside in record time.

  My tiredness, previously banished by adrenaline, reared its ugly head. But I had a mission. I dug around in the bottom of the drawer I had reserved for winter clothing, searching frantically until I found my old beanie.

  I pulled it over my head, resolving to superglue it down at the earliest opportunity.

  Then I pulled open the wardrobe, using the mirrors on the inside of the doors to examine my new crystal.

  It was bright yellow, like all other brimstone crystals. I’d expected it to be an irregular hunk of crystal, like everyone else’s. It was, but almost mockingly, mine formed a point at the bottom and had a split at the top, forming a jagged heart shape.

  I choked back a sob, forcing it down as I considered the situation carefully.

  Like all new crystals, the skin around mine was jagged, red, angry and sore. I dug around in the box of lotions Mum had provided me with; certain she would have included some kind of cream for this situation. It would have reflected badly on her if I had to wander around with an oozing sore on my forehead after the Pride showing she had anticipated.

  I found the small tube labelled ‘crystal ointment’ and applied it generously; glad for it even if I hadn’t been putting it on my head like Mum had anticipated.

  Obviously, Mum had put a little extra power into this cream, as the skin calmed down quickly. I was just considering going to bed when the beanie caught my eye in the mirror.

  Was it childish to sleep in it?

  Probably.

  It didn’t stop me though, as I climbed into bed with it pulled down over my ears.

  When I woke, it was to a knock on my door. I checked the time on the wind up clock by the bed; five am.

  I was half-way towards turning the latch on the door when I remembered the events of last night.

  “Who is it?” I called, checking my beanie, which had miraculously stayed in place.

  “Lilith?” Professor Maddox’s voice came through the closed door. “Some other students came to me and said that you may need some assistance.”

  I gulped. “Just a moment, Sir,” I called, grabbing my robe.

  Someone had tattled about my horns. Not surprising, since he was the head of year. He was going to want to know what had happened.

  I opened the door reluctantly.

  Maddox’s eyes went straight to the hat.

  Yup, someone had told him.

  “Lilith,” he began, not unkindly, “Perhaps you would like to dress and come with me to my office?”

  I nodded grimly and closed the door.

  I pulled on my uniform with a sense of grim determination. Maddox was a professor who specialised in demonic history. Surely, he would have some notion of what had happened to me. I paused as my hand hovered over the hairbrush.

  How was I supposed to brush around horns?

  I peeled off the beanie and looked in the mirror.

  Perhaps brushing the hair backwards between them? My usual side parting was going to be impossible, so I settled for brushing the front strands of my hair backwards and the side parts down behind my ears.

  I looked strange, but it was probably more because I had freaking horns than my hairstyle.

  I sighed and pulled the hat back on. It wasn’t part of the uniform, so I wondered if Maddox would call me on it. But as I left my room, he didn’t mention anything. He didn’t speak at all until we were outside the strangely empty Gatehouse.

  “You’ve caused a bit of a stir, Lilith,” he said. “In the past six hours, no less than eight other students have come to me about you.”

  I shrank into myself.
“I had my showing, Sir.”

  He nodded. “I heard.”

  I took a deep breath, and then spoke again. “I’m a Lust.”

  He gave me a piercing look as we entered the castle and ascended a flight of stairs I’d never seen before. “I heard,” he finally said. After that, neither of us spoke again as Maddox led me down a hallway covered in portraits, and through a small door.

  His office was cramped, messy, and warm. It smelled like new books and burnt toast and had a single window that overlooked one of the towers, the moat, and the forest beyond.

  He cleared off a seat for me opposite his own, depositing the books that had occupied the space in a corner with relatively little care as he set about lighting a small gas stove and placing a kettle on top.

  When he turned to face me again, he was clutching two cups of hot chocolate.

  I gladly took one, sipping it as he took a seat behind the desk.

  “What I’ve heard from every single student who has come to me,” he began. “Is that you were passed out on the floor of the bathroom when they found you. They said that when they went to help you, you started twitching and moaning. Then you started to grow horns.” He took a long sip of the scalding hot liquid. “After that, the tales vary. In some, you wake up and declare yourself a god, in others you have a tail and fire coming out of your mouth. The stories only converge again to say that you turned around and everyone saw that your crystal had declared you a Lust.”

  “I’m not sure I remember the flames, Sir,” I grated out.

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Take the hat off, Lilith.”

  I closed my eyes, holding back tears as I reached up to pull off the beanie.

  His soft exclamation made me open my eyes.

  “How remarkable.” He pulled on a pair of glasses I’d never seen him use before and squinted at me. “Tell me your side of the story, please.”

  He had stood and was examining my head in a way that was quite distracting, but I tried to talk through the awkwardness.

  “I started going through my showing, and I felt the pain start but my knees collapsed, and I passed out when I hit my head on the sink,” I told him. “When I woke up, everyone was staring at my head like a freak, so I thought I’d become a Pride.” Professor Maddox picked up a magnifying glass and was examining my horns even more closely now. “But I couldn’t feel a crystal, so I checked in the mirror. And…” I fluttered my hand around the top of my head, unable to say the words.

  “You saw you had horns,” Maddox finished for me.

  “Yes,” I confirmed. “Then everyone gasped, and I realised my shirt had ridden up, and they were staring at my crystal. After that, I slammed the bathroom door in their faces and waited for them to go away.”

  Maddox was still studying my head like an insect.

  “May I touch them?” he asked, looking as though he had been handed a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

  I nodded.

  From the first touch, I realised something new. I could feel things that were happening to my horns as clearly as if they were made of flesh and skin. From Maddox’s first touch, to when he tapped at them with his fingernails.

  “Ouch,” I complained when he used the magnifying glass to tap at the tip.

  “Do you have sensation in them?” He appeared surprised.

  “Yes,” I answered, honestly.

  He gave me a strange look. “From what I can make out, they’re made of some kind of crystal or stone. That should be impossible.”

  I didn’t remark on his theory, until he started to lightly stroke the same spot over and over again, when I started to squirm.

  “Tickles,” I muttered, in answer to his enquiring look.

  “Remarkable,” he repeated.

  He studied them a little longer, then sighed and returned to his chair. By that time, I had already gotten half way through my hot chocolate.

  “It’s against school rules to wear the hat,” Maddox informed me. “Not to mention that any teacher who saw you wearing it indoors would have a fit. Professor Pruitt would probably snatch it from your head if she saw…”

  “I understand.” I hated it.

  “I think this requires a trip to the headmistress’ office,” Maddox intoned. “But she’ll not be pleased to be woken this early. Meet me after breakfast, I will cancel class–”

  “Please don’t!” I stuttered. “I don’t want any attention.” In fact, I would quite like to hide in his office until I could figure out how to drown myself in the moat, but I didn’t say that aloud.

  Maddox gave me a look. “Very well. I shall write Professor Saxon a note for you to take to her. Do you know where her office is?”

  I nodded. The stairs to her office were near the library.

  He was silent as he wrote the letter; but when he spoke again, it was to address my new caste.

  “I would suggest going back to the dorms and packing your things,” he advised. “Your caste will probably arrive to collect you after dinner. And if I might offer two last pieces of wisdom, I would tell you to meet them with an open mind. Lust is the most misunderstood caste. They are mysterious, wild and – yes – physical as the name suggests, but that is not a terrible thing or a thing to be feared.”

  I nodded, taking his words to heart. “What was the second thing?”

  “Don’t show the other students your fear. Wear those horns like they’re a gift from the Strange God himself. Go to breakfast like normal. Don’t hide. Demons sense weakness, it is in our nature to try and exploit it.”

  I nodded once again. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He took my empty cup from me, and opened the door, passing me the note as I left.

  Once I was alone, I had the overwhelming urge to pull my hat back on. But I took his advice and left it off. Forcing my shoulders back, I shoved the hat into my pocket and strode down the hallway and out of the castle.

  Step one, pack. Step two, breakfast and meeting Professor Saxon. I could do this.

  Unfortunately, my luck didn’t last.

  The common room of the Gatehouse was flooded with people. The moment I walked in all conversation stopped, and everyone stared.

  Strutting forwards as though I owned the place was hard, but I managed it. It helped to stare them all down.

  What I wasn’t prepared for was Rina ambushing me at the bottom of the stairs.

  “How childish do you have to be to glue on prosthetics and pretend you’re special just because you were saddled with the slut caste?” Her eyes were fixed on my horns, anger blazing in their depths.

  I gave her a dead stare. “Go back to pandering to kids who are more popular than you, Rina,” I retorted. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

  She spluttered as I pushed my way past her. I didn’t stop till I reached my room, where I ensured the door was thoroughly locked before I fell onto the bed. What the hell had that been about? I wondered, robotically pushing myself up and re-packing my bags.

  Why had Rina gone from concerned gossip to hateful slag in the space of a day? Why would she think I would purposely put fake horns on? And how could she be so angry when it was nothing to do with her?

  It was making my head hurt.

  I put more of mum’s ointment around my crystal, checking it in the mirror as I did so.

  The redness was fading, but the skin was scarring. I rolled my eyes. Of course, it would scar. Because being in the wrong place on my body wasn’t quite bad enough.

  I shook my head to clear my mind. I might like Lust caste. I might even fit in there.

  My mind flashed back to the yellow-eyed guy getting a hand job in the middle of the grounds. My head refused to believe I could fit in with people like that. Yet now, when I recalled it, a slither of heat wound through me.

  What the hell?

  I grimaced as I forced myself to finish packing.

  It didn’t take long, but by the time I had finished, breakfast was starting. I forced myself to drag the brush through my hair
once more, brushed my teeth and hurried to the great hall.

  I sat alone, forcing myself to have a large breakfast to hide the fact that I was scared of this upcoming meeting. It was undeniably worse in the great hall, despite no one coming up to me. Even teachers, looking down from the head tables, were staring at me and discussing things. Maddox was wildly gesturing, pointing at me every five minutes as he spoke with the rest of them, making it clear that they were talking about me. And every single student was openly staring.