“This is Bullshit!!!” I exclaimed as I slammed the door. Why does it always seem to be me?

I am nothing but a disappointment to my family. Being born a Larkspur, one of the oldest and most powerful of the Demonic families, meant there was a lot of pressure on me from a young age. My dad has killed 23 warlocks, finding weaknesses in their containment spells or contracts and getting revenge for their audacity in trying to control him. He is a legend. My mom doesn’t have as many kills (only 12), but she literally wrote the book on overcoming computer based protections. With two parents of such prestige, a powerful family, and graduating at the top of my class, everyone expected big things from me. But somehow my very first placement was enough to undo all that I had going for me.

Many demons just go about their life in the Inferno of Infinite Torment with no ambition beyond being comfortable and making it through the next day. But most of us want more. We want to be called forth to the other realms and make a name for ourselves. We have our name leaked into those other worlds so other beings can summon us. We want to be feared by those lesser life forms and prove our strength to our fellow Demons. I want those things. I need them.

But then it happened. Thanks to some incompetent (and now skinless) imp in Human Rendition, my true name was leaked instead of my chosen name. So now instead of being a terrifying beast from the Inferno I am fully within the control of a witch. A very young witch. A very young, very annoying witch. Before I made it out of the HR office I felt the itch behind my knees that signaled a summoning, and I was pulled away.

“SPARKLES!” the little nightmare shouted as I materialized into her plane of existence. I looked down and see that I am in a pink tutu, bright red clown shoes, and a bowtie. “Welcome back Sparkles, I missed you so much! We are having a tea party, but I need your help. The adults said we can’t have hot tea because it is dangerous. But they didn’t know I have a big spooky imaginary friend like you to keep me safe. Please warm up our tea, since everyone knows hot tea is way fancier and more better than cold tea.”

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“Doctor, do you ever think he will come out of it?” asked Mrs. Larkspur.

“I think not, for he is trapped in a prison within his own mind. We don’t know what prompted his psychosis, but at this point it seems to be self sustaining,” said the doctor.

They both walked out of the room together, leaving the big brown teddy bear screaming into the padded walls of his room, still wearing his pink tutu, bright red clown shoes, and bowtie. “Goodbye Sparkles, mommy loves you.” She then walked down the hallway, hardly hearing her son’s muffled screams about an itch behind his knee.