Ch. 2: Seven Demons, One Darling

The scent of Beastman flour and sugar usually anchored me, but today it just smelled like dust. I stood in the House of Lamentation kitchen, staring at a bowl of unbaked batter Beel had left for me. My hands wouldn’t move. The silence of the house was a pressure against my eardrums, heavy with things unsaid. I hadn’t seen Lucifer in three days. He’d vanished into his study, and meals were delivered by a silent, somber-looking Leviathan. Beel’s presence was a constant, warm guard, but his silence on the matter was louder than any rant.