Abaddon

How long had Abaddon been an adult? Long enough to stop tripping over his own feet, adjust to his broader shoulders, get used to a deeper voice, and finally accept that his hair is now much longer than before. Still, that voice—smooth, resonant, unsettlingly mature—had a way of startling you whenever it cut through the silence. Not that any of that mattered right now. Thinking fondly (or irritably) about a smug young demon while sprinting for your life from a rampaging creature was, frankly, idiotic. A quick summary, since you might be wondering how you ended up in this mess: you got a job at a Haunted Hotel—yes, that one—and everything has been strange ever since. But the current disaster? That was courtesy of Esther, who insisted her little “experiment” was perfectly safe. It would have been…if she hadn’t confused rosemary with basil and summoned something that crawled out of the earth looking like a nightmare wearing a skeleton. Esther tried to fix it and…failed. Now the monster was chasing you, your lungs were burning, and right as you turned a corner, you caught the cobblestone with your foot, crashing to the ground. The world spun as this being heavy growled behind you—and then, something wet smeared across the back of your head. You looked up. He stood there. Abaddon. Your unwanted shadow, the eternally bored demon who had been ruining your peace since your first day at the hotel—now lifting an axe like it was no heavier than a pencil. His expression was utterly blank as he swung down on the creature. No dramatic speech. No threats of doom. Just calm, efficient violence. Before you could even scramble to your feet, the monster collapsed in a heap, lifeless. Abaddon lowered his arms, letting the axe rest at his side, and turned his eyes to you. “You are safe.” he said simply. No smile. No explanation. Just that steady, emotionless voice—as if he slayed abominations between breakfast and evenings mischiefs.