Aidan kept his distance from Mr. Albu's property as instructed, but that didn't stop his eyes from straying toward the backyard whenever he then sat down to study at night. The demon was always there, lurking in the shadows, its monstrous form shifting between glimpses of reality and nightmare. From afar, it could almost be mistaken for branches of the cottonwood tree. But Aidan knew better.
Its presence stole his sleep. Some nights, he double-checked his locks, shoved his dresser against the window, and buried himself beneath his blankets as if that would somehow protect him from the creature outside. He wasn't religious and hadn't prayed in years, but lying awake in the suffocating silence of his room, heart pounding, he found himself whispering desperate words to any god that would listen.
Nothing was more terrifying than knowing a horned, winged, and tailed demon lived right across from him.
Morning arrived with the shrill blare of his alarm, yanking him from the restless haze of sleep. Aidan groaned, blindly smacking at the clock until it tumbled off the bedside table with a dull thud. He wasn't a morning person, and after yet another night of poor sleep, he felt like he'd been run over by a truck.
Dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled toward the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and barely functioning. But the second he stepped into the doorway, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Mr. Albu was sitting at the breakfast table.
Aidan's sleep-deprived brain struggled to process what he was seeing. His two roommates, Lucas and Jared, were casually chatting with the old man like this was the most normal thing in the world. Lucas was leaning back in his chair, gesturing animatedly, while Jared was busy pouring coffee into a cup and sliding it toward their unexpected guest.
Aidan's heart started to race.
Why was he here? Mr. Albu had been so adamant about keeping him away—about warning him not to get involved in things beyond his understanding. And yet, here he was, in his kitchen, drinking coffee with his roommates as if he hadn't spent the past week glaring at Aidan from his yard like he was an annoying fly buzzing around a secret he wasn't meant to know.
His stomach twisted.
He hesitated in the doorway, his gaze flicking toward Lucas and Jared. They didn't seem the least bit concerned, completely at ease as they talked about—of all things—the stock market.
Aidan blinked.
Stock market?
He looked at Mr. Albu again, trying to reconcile the image of this reclusive, grumpy old man with the fact that he was now nodding along to an enthusiastic discussion about investments and market trends. It didn't add up. Mr. Albu didn't look like the kind of guy who had any interest in stocks. Hell, he didn't even seem like the kind of guy who owned a bank account.
"Aidan," Jared greeted, glancing up and raising his mug. "It's our neighbor," he added helpfully, as if Aidan somehow didn't already know that.
Aidan didn't answer. His throat felt dry, and an uneasy feeling settled deep in his gut.
Something wasn't right.
"Morning, Aidan."
Mr. Albu greeted him with a casual nod, his tone polite, distant—like they were strangers, like they had never met before. Like he hadn't been glaring at Aidan for the past week every time he happened to see Mr Albu in his yard.
Aidan narrowed his eyes slightly but forced himself to respond in kind. "Good morning." His voice came out stiffer than intended as he dragged out a chair and sat beside him.
Something about Mr. Albu always unsettled him. Maybe it was the way the old man carried himself, his gaze sharp and knowing, as if he was constantly calculating something. Or maybe it was the fact that his very presence was tied to the monster lurking in his backyard. Either way, Aidan had a bad feeling.
"What brings you here?" he asked carefully, trying to keep his tone neutral. It wasn't exactly rude to ask a neighbor why they were sitting in his kitchen at an ungodly hour. Right?
"He wanted us to water his plants while he's gone," Lucas chimed in, stirring sugar into his coffee like this was all perfectly normal. "He's going to visit his grandkids in Russia for a few days."
Aidan's head snapped toward Mr. Albu so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.
What?!
Russia? Grandkids?
The shock must have been all over his face because Mr. Albu looked downright amused, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"But unfortunately," Mr. Albu continued smoothly, "your boys are too busy, and my plants need watering in the afternoon." His tone was light, almost casual, but his eyes glinted with something unreadable.
Jared, ever the opportunist, seized the moment. "Aidan stays home in the afternoon. He works from home. He can water your plants."
Aidan's heart dropped.
He turned to glare at Jared, who, to his absolute frustration, had the nerve to look completely unbothered.
"Is that right?" Mr. Albu mused, shifting his gaze toward Aidan. There was something in the way he looked at him, something knowing. Like they were sharing some sort of private joke that only he understood.
"No." Aidan interjected swiftly. "I'd be too busy."
Jared sighed, exasperated, then grabbed Aidan's arm and pulled him aside. "Can't you spare two minutes to water his plants? It's not a big deal," he whisper-yelled.
Aidan yanked his arm away. "Why do you care?"
"Because," Jared whispered urgently, glancing back at Mr. Albu as if the old man might vanish into thin air, "he's got big bucks, and he's willing to invest in my broking company. I can't miss this opportunity."
Aidan's glare sharpened. "Then you water his plants."
"I would if I could, but I can't," Jared stressed. "I have a job, remember? A real one."
"Then it's not my problem," Aidan snapped.
Jared groaned. "I'll pay you, okay?"
Aidan scoffed. "Oh, wow. How generous. Have you seen his house? Have you heard the rumors? I'm not going in there."
Jared rolled his eyes. "Are you a kid, Aidan? You scared of some cobwebs? Man up."
Aidan crossed his arms. "No."
Jared groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was dealing with a particularly stubborn child. "Fuck," he muttered, glancing up at the ceiling in frustration. Then, as if struck by divine inspiration, he exhaled sharply and lowered his voice. "Fine. You can play my PS5 for as long as you want."
Aidan's interest perked immediately.
He straightened, eyes narrowing. "I can?"
Jared knew exactly what he was doing.
Aidan loved video games, but playing on a PC just didn't compare to gaming on a PS5. And Jared? He was insanely possessive about his console. Aidan had been dying to play on it for months, but Jared never let anyone touch it. The fact that he was offering now meant he was desperate.
Aidan crossed his arms, feigning disinterest. "For how long?"
Jared clenched his jaw. "As long as you want."
Aidan pretended to consider it. "Even the new God of War?"
Jared sighed. "Yes."
Aidan grinned. "Fine."
Before he could fully process what he'd just agreed to, Jared seized his arm and dragged him back toward the table.
"He'll water your plants, Mr. Albu," Jared announced, practically shoving Aidan forward. "You can go visit your grandkids without worry."
Mr. Albu watched the exchange with quiet amusement before slowly rising from his seat. "Wonderful."
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an old-fashioned keyring, placing it on the table with a soft clink.
"These are my spare keys," he said, pushing them toward Aidan. "Make sure you water my plants at least once a day. Exactly in the afternoon." His gaze held Aidan's, his expression unreadable. "Since they're a special species from the Himalayan Mountains, they require special care."
Aidan frowned slightly. That was an odd way to phrase it.
"There will be a note on my desk with all the details," Mr. Albu continued. Then, almost absently, he added, "Make sure to read it before feeding—" He paused, lips curling in a faint smile. "—I mean, watering my plants."
Aidan stared at him.
Something about the way he said it sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine.
A strange sense of unease curled in his stomach, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why. Then, as Mr. Albu's words sank in, something clicked.
His eyes widened in realization.
Why would someone need strict instructions just to water some plants?
Before he could voice his concerns, Mr. Albu placed a small slip of paper on the table and tapped it twice. "Here's my number in case of emergencies," he said. His voice was calm, but there was an odd weight behind it, as if he expected something to go wrong. "Though, the network isn't very reliable in my hometown, so don't depend on it too much."
Aidan barely had time to process that before Mr. Albu continued, his tone dropping slightly. "But listen carefully—the most important thing is to stay away from the plants. They are poisonous." His dark eyes locked onto Aidan's, pinning him in place. "They will kill you if you're not careful."
Aidan swallowed.
"Just water them and nothing else," Mr. Albu emphasized. "Don't touch them. Don't breathe too close to them. Don't stay around them for too long." His voice took on a sharp edge, his expression severe. "Do not break these rules."
Something about the way he said it made Aidan's skin crawl.
Mr. Albu wasn't just issuing a warning. He was insisting.
Aidan hesitated, glancing at Jared, hoping for some kind of intervention, but his roommate just smiled like this was the most normal conversation in the world.
"It's okay, Mr. Albu," Jared said cheerfully, clapping Aidan on the shoulder. "Aidan's very good at taking care of things."
Aidan barely resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs. What the hell, Jared?
Mr. Albu studied him for a moment longer before giving a small nod. "I'll be back in two weeks," he said, pushing back his chair and rising to his feet. His movement was slow, deliberate, almost too controlled. "And Aidan..."
Aidan tensed. "Yeah?"
"My plants," Mr. Albu said, adjusting his coat sleeve. "They have a name."
Aidan blinked. He wasn't stupid he knew Mr Albu was talking about his demon.
"Oh," he said, not quite sure how to respond. The idea that the demon would have a name never even crossed his mind.
Mr. Albu tilted his head slightly, then spoke the name with a slow, deliberate ease—
"Damon."
Aidan stared.
"You must really love your plants," Lucas remarked from across the room.
Mr. Albu's lips curled into a small smile.
"Well, yeah," he said, voice smooth as silk. "They're valuable. One of a kind."
Then, with a wink, he turned and walked away, leaving behind an eerie silence that seemed to stretch long after he was gone.