Ben's POV

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The booming sound of thunder is what woke me. I sat up on the bed quickly, the sound of the pitter-patter of rain heavy against the room window. I stared at the droplets as they cascaded down, leaving trails while they disappeared into the framing.

I didn't know how long I had been staring, but movement in the sheets next to me caught my attention. I looked only to see Phobus still sound asleep, his hair tousled and all over the place. Immediately remembering last night, I felt my cheeks burn. I didn't know whether to hide under the sheets or run away from the bed. 

Phobus groaned, muttering something about planes and I smiled as I hesitantly moved a couple of strands from his eyes, my breath hitching as I took his appearance in. His facial features were relaxed, giving him a more boyish look, but no doubt he was handsome. I admired his face until my eyes landed on his lips. They were pink, full, and parted, and I wondered how they would feel...against mine.

With that thought, I pulled myself away from him and stood up. What was I thinking? That would be strange! He might flirt with me from time to time, but to actually...kiss me? Absurd! Impossible.

Phobus groaned slightly again, yanking me back to reality. I was only supposed to help him, nothing else. He was amnesic, and my job was to assist him in what ever way I could, not think about how attractive he was!

I turned back to him and frowned. Then why was I so affected by him?

Phobus turned in the bed, his back towards me. I sighed heavily, wiping my face with a hand. I needed a coffee.

I quickly dressed silently and left the room, taking the stairs and entering the kitchen, only to stop in my tracks as I immediately ducked, a frying pan flying towards where my head would've been had my reflexes not been so attuned. I grimaced at the loud sound it made when it crashed, but my concern laid on my Mistress who I observed tear our microwave in half with her bare hands.

"Uh...", I began, but my Mistress whipping around to face me, holding a bread knife with both of her hands. Fear evident in her eyes stopped me from saying anything else. 

I had never seen my Mistress so fearful in my whole life.

  Her eyes were glowing their shade of violet, meaning she was clearly on the defensive. She was wearing a wrinkled, white top with what I could only deduce was blood from the metallic smell that infiltrated my nose. Her hair was disheveled and she was baring her teeth at me, her canines longer than normal.  I stepped forward, putting my hands up, "Mistress?"

My Mistress lowered the knife and murmured my name questioningly, "...Beneharo?"

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. My Mistress never used my whole first name. Not even to punish me. On that thought, the bread knife clattered to the floor just as my Mistress began to cry, her hands outstretched to me. I sensed relief in her gesture and immediately rushed to her, hugging her as she wept into my shoulder, her knees buckling under her from the intense emotions that were passing through her. 

I slowly lowered her to the ground, kneeling with her as she wept. I didn't know what to say, finding that silence would be the best comfort for her as she let out all her sorrow or whatever it was she was feeling at the moment.

I tried to soothe her with some calming magic that Mourner had taught me, but it did not work. No matter how many times I attempted to calm her, I felt nothing get through to her. 

"Stop it, Ben.", She sighed as she began to console herself, "Mourner's magic won't be working on me in the kitchen, no matter how hard you try." She breathed out slowly, taking deep breaths as she muttered something unintelligible. 

I didn't understand what was going on, so that's exactly what I allowed myself to repeat. My Mistress moved her hair from her face nervously, and that's when I spotted something on her cheek. Three long gashes were present on her face, but that confused me even more. "Mistress, why is your face damaged? I thought demons healed quickly..." I trailed off by the sudden stiffness of her body.

"My wounds would heal quickly if it were done by a lesser creature than me..." She answered, after a long silence as she composed herself. She was no longer crying, but there was still fear that permeated off her. 

I raised a brow in question, "You mean something stronger than you hurt you? When? Was it yesterday? Is that why you weren't home?"

She opened her mouth to answer but closed it again. I went to repeat my question when she finally responded, "I was home..."

I stilled, and went to ask her where when suddenly, a loud crash sounded, startling me.

I went to stand, but a hard tug from Mistress brought me back to her level, where I saw panic in her eyes. Instantly, my blood ran cold.

"Ben, I need you to take Phobus and get the hell out of here," She instructed, stopping me from interrupting her by shushing me and shaking her head, "I know you have your questions, but now is not the appropriate time nor the safest place to ask anything. I'll contact you once I am able to leave here, but until then you have to head to your room and take out your necklace. Do you hear me? 

Take the necklace that your caretaker gifted you and order it to take you home, ok?" She rushed to her feet just as a deep, thundering groan resonated in what I could only describe as the whole house whimpering. 

I was still in the same spot that Mistress had left me in, but she had started to whisper things in her demon tongue, scraps of metal seeming to shoot towards her and fuse with her body. I watched as the microwave bits and oven scraps began to mold into her frame, the metal seeming like a liquid for a few seconds before hardening into a deep purple armor-like piece covering her entire body. 

Pretty soon, she turned to me, holding a katana, and gestured for me to leave now, before 'they' arrived.

I was confused. 

Why was my Mistress dressed as a samurai and why was she holding her demonic blade? I had never seen her wear anything besides her two-piece suits! Besides, she had told me that her demonic blade was to be used in grave situations only, and seeing it now I feared what it implied.

A sudden POP! caused me to leave my thoughts, and a deep silence began. Mistress cursed under her breath and took a defensive stance, while I stayed squatting on the floor. I didn't understand anything anymore. I was about to move when a familiar sound took over the silence.

I heard the hooves of Mourner approaching the kitchen. 

I sighed in relief but felt a growing wariness forming in the pit of my stomach. I didn't know why, but something about the way Mourner was walking made me feel uneasy. The calm, leisurely stride of someone confident and not the least bit worried about all the sounds and groaning in the house.

I went to call for Mourner, but a scrap of metal shot towards my mouth, a burning sensation forming on my lips as it molded to form a zipper around my lips.

I tried to remove it, but none of my spells were working. I guessed it was due to the spells being some Mourner had shown me. 

That's when I heard a long, exaggerated sigh from the doorway. I looked and saw Mourner, standing straight and his hands folded behind his back, a wide smile on his face. I gulped because as soon as he opened his mouth, I knew something was off about him.

See, Mourner was a Satyr, and from what I had studied, Satyrs were not carnivores, so the sight of his sharp teeth formed in a grin and red tinting his usually white goatee and mustache ran a chill up my spine.

"Well well, If it isn't my favorite pupil and the traitor, side by side." Mourner snorted. Then he glanced deeper into the kitchen, looking for something.

Then it clicked; Or someone.

"Where is Phobus?" Mourner grinned.