Sam kicked at the snow under the table, frustrated at his Dad’s new reluctance to spill the beans.
“No whining, Sam.”
Sam shivered, shaking some snow loose from where his shoulders used to be and let out a grunt with a bit of a growl edge to it. “You. Said. You said when hell froze over you would tell me! Look around!”
“Sam’s right, dear. Our normal view is certainly lacking in its usual warmth, what with the pits of fire now, what is this called again? Snow mounds? I never understood the humans fascination with this stuff.” Sam’s mom winked at him from across the table.
“Now son, let’s be reasonable.” His dad clearly wasn’t ready for this talk.
“Do you hear that?” His mom interrupted, nearly losing her head when she cocked it to the side in an attempt to focus her hearing on whatever she heard. Sam broke the stare competition with his dad and tried to focus his listening, which was difficult with all this snow in his ears.
“IT’S SINGING! The fat lady is singing!” Sam tried to kick his dad under the table, but his new lack of legs in this snowman form didn’t allow for much movement. “Dad, do you need any more proof that it’s time?!?! Tell me!!”
His dad sighed and the heavy puff of breath pushed out a black rock that was forming his mouth. His dad looked to his mom, as if looking for support, but she was looking up at the sky.
Sam watched the lack of interaction between his parents and followed their gaze upward. He opened his mouth to speak, again to point out to his dad that it was time for him to know the truth about who he was, but his dad spoke first.
“Yes, Sam. I see the pigs flying. That’s the last sign and it is now time.”
As much as his snowbound body would let him, Sam bounced in his seat, eager to learn his origins, the secretive story passed down from parent to child over a millennia. His mom smiled at his dad, and he could tell that she really wanted to nod, but wasn’t willing to risk almost losing her head again. Then his dad began.
“Alright, son. This is the truth of how you were made and born, how all little demons in hell come to be, and how you can grow to wield power over the humans. But I’ve got to tell you, you’re probably not going to believe it.”
“Come onnnnnn, Dad. Just tell me. If hell can freeze over, I can believe anything.”
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Stop stalling, dear. Our little demon is growing up; we can’t keep him in the dark forever. And I’m ready for my lava view to return. It’s time for him to grow up and…”
“Of course, you’re absolutely correct dear.” His dad interrupted and turned his attention back to him. With a solemn look upon his face, he began. “We don’t really exist, son. We’re just figments of some humans’ imaginations. We are their make-believe boogeymen. All these signs mean that another human has figured it out, and if they stop believing, we’ll cease to exist. So it’s time for you to join the family business to ensure our survival.”
Sam sat quietly, absorbing his father’s words, then burst out laughing.
“Nahhhh!!!! You’re such a trickster, Dad! Right? Right? No. Seriously?” Then Sam muttered under his breath, “Fuck.”
His mom smiled proudly as her son accepted the truth, “There’s my little demon with the filthy mouth. Now get to work and fix our scenery. We’re not made for the cold.”
I hope you enjoyed this seriously quick flash fic (just finished it!), now go visit the others who have flashes for you here. Happy Monday!