THE DOORS SLAMMED OPEN violently, introducing Satan and his wife, Adena. She was trying to control her breathing but failed as she was hyperventilating. Nurses and doctors enveloped her, but she could barely focus from the pain. All she focused on was her breathing.
“Breathe! Dena, Imma need you to breathe!” Satan told his wife, and he lifted her onto the rolling bed. The surrounding nurses were trying to calm her but failed in a quick time. She was screaming and harshly biting the air from the pain.
The children in her stomach continued to push against her stomach, bringing her more pain than in any way possible. They were preparing her for a C-section because she was having triplets.
“Fuck!” She screamed in pain as the doctors rolled her toward her room in which they would have the C-section.
“Ma’am, we will give you morphine.” One of the male nurses told her. This quickly grasped her attention. She seemed confused by this.
“Why?! Is this going to hurt my babies?!” She screamed in her Spanish accent while he only shook his head at her question.
“This will not hurt your children, only make it so you can’t feel any of the pain.”
“Okay,” she replied as they injected her with the morphine. Gratefully, it immediately took effect as her eyes peered into the bright light above her. Multiple surgeons encompassed her.
They spoke of the knives they would need to cut her open. She looked across from her to see her husband staring at her with pain in his eyes. She knew he didn’t want them to hurt her.
Her golden eyes flicked to the surgeons, but they distracted themselves by impaling her flesh. They already cut her but she couldn’t feel the pain. She only saw her insides and blood. And though she knew she hadn’t looking at them cutting her, but she too curious.
Adena finally took this time to take in her surroundings. The room was full with the equivalent of nothing. There was only a small black chair in the corner, the bed in which she laid upon, and a cart that carried all the items the surgeons needed. She had tried to reach out for her husband, but she could barely lift her arms. Sweat covered her face from the pain, but she didn’t notice the C-section. The only thing and or people were her husband and the surgeons.
The look on her husband’s face scared her. He seemed to be in so much pain from watching his wife in such a position. His white hair covered his mysterious purple eyes, the red streaks seem clear and dominant than the rest of his hair. He removed his golden cloth and placed on his lap. The wings that protruded from his back were hanging down in weariness. It covered his skin in sweat from running after his wife to bring her to the hospital. And his horns were tilted forward, something that happened when concerned.
She became so lost in her thoughts of her husband that she could barely recognize the crying of an infant child. She placed her eyes upon the tear-stricken infant to notice a baby girl. The similarities of her when she was a baby and the baby before her was remarkable. Her womb had the baby covered in a weird slime whose name wasn’t known.
Soon, the baby’s cries became infused with others, the cries being louder. She saw a baby boy covered in the same slime. He only cried louder and louder, Adena assumed it was because of the foreign hands touching him. The surgeons holding the two placed them in hands of two different nurses.
The third infant had taken over five minutes to arrive. But after the seven-minute wait, they finally took the baby from Adena’s womb.
With her closed eyes, all the baby girl could see was darkness. All she could see was obscurity behind her closed eyelids. She could feel she hands holding her up from falling. And felt a slimy liquid cover her body from her exiting a foreign place. The baby girl tried to formulate thoughts but sadly found that she didn’t know what a language was. Meaning she couldn’t think in a language. She finally opens her eyes to look at a man and a woman.
Adena stared at the baby before her while she stared back. Adena found her strange because she didn’t cry like the rest. Instead, the baby only smiled back at her and allowed the nurses to clean her and cut her umbilical cord.
The water surrounded her. It was soft with a mix of baby soap and the thirty-seven degrees Celsius water, the perfect temperature for a newborn such as herself. Instead of using a towel as most would do when washing their body parts, the nurses only softly sprayed the water on the other parts of her body.
She could hear the strange woman that was staring at her yelling about names, but she couldn’t understand the language for her sense of a language hadn’t really developed as of late. She peered her curious hybrid eyes—dark red fusing with a bright yellow—over the nurse’s shoulder to see the woman holding two babies that looked like her. The nurses covered one in purple while the other in red. Those were the colors of red and purple. Red is for a girl and purple is for a boy.
They snatched a red cloth from one shelf in the room and wrapped it around her body. She closed her eyes as she felt a newly discovered feeling, warmth. The plush feel of the blanket made her never want to escape its grasp. She opened her eyes and looked into the nurses’ face. Curiously, she continuously stared into the nurses’ faces.
The nurses gave them back to her mother so she could hold one of her other babies. The other two were placed into her lap as she took hold of the baby being handed to her. They stared deep into each other’s eyes, analyzing and processing how they were to react to each other. But the tears that were known to formulate in most babies’ eyes never formed. She only continued staring curiously.
Before the baby could continue her analysis, excitement painted the woman’s face before her. She opened her mouth, but instead of what was to escape, a scream of happiness left.
What soon followed surprised her. She hadn’t expected the onslaught of the woman’s words. It scared her to no extent. And never in her life did she dream of hearing and or seeing such a thing. “¿Cómo debería nombrar a un bebé tan hermoso?! Tu nombre es Calypso. ¡Oh, sí, debería!”
She began with the motherly wordplay that came with having a baby, like “coochie coo” or “eres tan linda, mi preciosa bebe” in her native tongue, Spanish. She feared the woman before her because she couldn’t understand nor did she know what she was trying to exclaim.
The female before her has long, crinkly black hair, long, wide, sparkling white wings that leaned upward, faint caramel skin, dazzling golden eyes, and pure white fangs sticking out of her gums. Sweat painted her hair to her face and no matter how much hair she possibly had, it was all painted to any part of her body. Her back, her arms, her face. Every part.
The baby hardly noticed the male beside her. She wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the woman holding her up to him to show her their child. “Muy adorable. ¿No es ella Clay?”
The male next to the female had white hair with strokes of red, a thick crimson red cloth with gold encrusted on the sides covering his eyes, two long leathery black wings that spread across the room, vibrant chocolate skin, and shining black horns that went into a dark red. Only slight wrinkles that would clear up in a day covered his face instead of his entire body.
The female and male both had name tags attached to their nurse blue shirts to identify themselves. Calypso squinted her eyes to get a better look at them, curious of their names. She couldn’t read the writing placed on the tag. She couldn’t even see because of the tears in her eyes. She didn’t know what to do, so she continued crying from confusion. All she saw was the letters CLAY on the male’s tag. And the letters ADENA on the female’s tag.
The female’s lips moved while holding Calypso, tears lurking in her eyes from happiness. “Mis preciosos bebés.” She found the woman’s eyes darting to the side of her.
Calypso curiously follows her eyes to the side to find a baby boy and girl. She only wailed louder. The female just lifted her and tried to calm her down. Rocking her back and forth, she wailed even louder. “Cálmate, cálmate.” She tried to calm her baby down, but this only encouraged the others to cry.
She placed all three in her arms and tried to rock them but they cuddled into each other’s arms. The baby boy and baby girl got closer to Calypso and hugged her for protection. She did the same to them for she found safety with the babies before her. She couldn’t really explain how she felt about them, but she found safety within them.
The man looked down at Calypso with irritated eyes and scooped her up from his wife’s arms. He rocked her back and forth in a calmer pattern than that of his wife. She soon stopped her crying and stuck her foot in her mouth.
The baby boy and girl were getting jealous that the stranger was allowing her to play on him. They whined in protest. Clay lifted them from his wife’s arms and placed them into his. They all found it strange of the closeness between them but they didn’t care. They loved being with each other.
A brooding nurse walks in and says, “Would you like to give them immunization shots? To protect them from diseases and things of such?” Both parents nodded their heads, having their babies taken by three indifferent nurses. Her parents wanted her to get her immunization shots so she could be immune to some diseases such as tetanus, measles, mumps, and more.
The male allowed the nurses to remove the babies, but the female couldn’t help but watch her babies crying for their parents. A nurse removed Calypso from the man’s grasp, but the nurse stared at her curiously. Realization crossed her face as her eyes went wide and her body twitching from the fear.
“Sire, she is it. This girl here . . . she is the one,” The nurse says dulcetly, breaking into a cold sweat in fear of his response. “The twin-tails are a symbol of her being the last child of the two. They were also a symbol of her being a demon and an angel. A special child who’s blessed with something other than any of the rest.”
“Perfect,” he says, forming a devilish grin, remembering his meeting with a witch. A flashback struck his mind as he spoke those words.
Satan sat in the center of his vivacious and cheerful living room. Twenty-nine children—most teenagers had covered the room. Some were playing on phones and or electronics while others took care of their baby siblings. As Satan played in the center surrounded by two of his three of his babies, Blaze, Ife, and Ratnali, he had spotted a witch wandering his halls.
His face brightened with excitement as if he were a child when their mother bought candy as he beckoned her over with a snap, giving off an immense amount of energy. They had lost her in his maze of halls at least an hour ago. She submissively strolled over to him, holding her head down in shyness and respect for peasants were never allowed to look royals in the eyes. If they had, they were either challenging them or wishing them death, which was a grave mistake.
“What is it you need? And, if you don’t mind me asking, who are you?” Satan politely asked. He had been the king of the Underworld or as most called Hellfire, yet he was politely asking a random person when usually, he would be a harsh and cruel man.
His disposition had shocked her. She broke into a cold sweat and lifted her pale hand to wipe her forehand and then her pants. The respectful child had answered to him with the utmost politeness. “My name is Thalia, someone told me to come here in the place of Sabrina, the witch that told the future for The King.” She exclaimed quietly, still fearing the intense man before her, though he was very joyous.
“Oh yes, please follow me. Excuse me, children.” He removed his youngest daughter, Ratnali, off his lap and stood. She sat in the place he places her, crying for her father and raising her arms up. Based on her signals, he knew she wanted him to carry her. He groaned and lifted the needy infant, resting her on his hip. She laughed and sucked her thumb adorably.
Ratnali developed later than everyone else because of the blood running through her. Her mom was a werewolf and their blood wasn’t as strong as the Angel Werewolves. She was now three days old.
He walked throughout his halls, only stopping in front of a large brown Roman door. The only sounds they could hear were the sounds of Ratnali loudly sucking her thumb and her laughter.
He slowly opened the door with his scarred left hand, the creaking filling the comfortable silence. They walked into the room to find it barren with a single wooden desk and an office rolling chair with two chairs across from them.
“Please have a seat in one of the chairs.” He motioned to the chairs as he went to sit in his office chair, placing Ratnali upon the desk where she crawled around playfully.
“So, I assume you are here for the future telling, are you not?” Satan inquired, stopping the laughing baby from falling off the desk. He places his muscular body into the seat across from the witch.
“Yes. Well, sire, the future states that the children that your beautiful wife is pregnant with the children that are destined to kill you. The youngest one, Calypso, specifically the one to end your mortal life, but only to put your soul in a jar. But if she ends up mating with her mate, that is the only thing that can make her strong enough to end your newly grown mortal body. And your soul.” She confessed to him, smiling at Ratnali.
Shock never came nor did he become enraged. He only closed his eyes to regain himself and said, “Thank you, Thalia, I will remember this. Come back every month for these meetings, okay? And if you don’t mind me asking, but what happened to Sabrina?”
“Oh, I don’t mind at all. Sabrina had passed her mortal body over her daughter. I used my magic to make myself look different, as you can see.” She motioned to herself. Her pale, white hand had shoved away long, brown hair, showing off her flawless looks.
“Well. Tell Sabrina I give her best wishes in the Soul Realm. I will visit there—” Ratnali had interrupted him pulling on his lip.
Satan removed her now saliva covered hand and popped her on the arm, saying, “Don’t make me punish you. I will take you to the punishment room.”
Ratnali developed later than all the rest of her siblings, so she cried in the response, muttering a “sowwy daddy.”
Thalia laughed as she said, “Of course. It would delight me to let Sabrina know,” as she left the room.
Calypso stared into space as she listened to the adults speak. She could clearly hear their words yet she wasn’t really listening. She heard more gibberish than English. She could understand a few words like “babies” or “forms,” but other than that, she had heard no words being spoken.
Her thoughts comprised random things like why her mind developed at a slow rate compared to the people around her or why there were people that looked like her laying next to her. She couldn’t really understand the strange people around her and it frustrated her to an impossible extent. But instead of thinking and contemplating it as far as she could, she cried like the baby she was.
Because she was a baby, her emotions were wild because her mind didn’t grow those brain cells yet. All she knew was that she could pull tears from her eyes and have them streak down her face. She accepted the things she could do with ease and cried from her frustration.
To snap her out of the thoughts, the boy next to Calypso who she assumes is her brother stared at her. Their eyes had roamed each other bodies, curious and fascinated all the while. They had a little sense that they both looked a bit like the woman that held them before. He cried.
“Shhh, don’t cry Agwe,” Adena says. Evidently, his name is Agwe. He clenched his tiny caramel fist and made a scrunched-up face. He twitched his black ears and tail. He looks as if he’s trying to do the same thing she did but failed miserably.
The girl on the left of Calypso who she assumes is her sister cries along with him. “Come one, Amanica, not you too.” Her name had been Amanica, but based on the complications with the name, everyone calls her Cia.
She possessed a clear scalp, light soft chocolate skin with slight freckles covering her face, beautiful glowing green eyes that pick up a hint of blue, and dark pumpkin ears and tail.
“Both of you, hush!” Clay bellows and they quickly shut their mouths. His bipolar attitude frustrated everyone, but his wife could always deal with the stubborn attitude of her husband. Frustration filled her because he dared. And she couldn’t explain the rage bubbling inside of her, but before she could think with the brain in her head, she turned and punched her husband square in the jaw, having him falling back onto the floor.
The crunch that followed proved her broken finger, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want the love of her life treating her babies like shit.
“Cállate la boca, mi amor. Nuestros bebés son gemas y no debes ser malo con ellos.” Adena yells in her Spanish accent, giving her newborns to the nurses so they could pamper the babies.
He lifted from the floor and captured her wrist in a tight grasp. He lifted them above her head and bit her lips, her lip splitting from the contact. She cried out while he chuckled and licked the blood from her lips. “Your punishment will come later.” He whispered to her and put her hands back down.
For a reason as strange as the color of the sky, Calypso could understand the words exiting the man’s mouth when he told them to hush. She quickly got frustrated at his demand, but instead of crying as she had been for the past three hours, she could feel her emotion encouraging her to do something she hadn’t realized she could do.
Calypso quickly switched to her demon form, walks up to him in a slow yet angry pace, slaps him hard enough to send him into a wall while wagging her pointer finger at him like she was scolding a child and yells, “You shouldn’t yell at babies.”
Calypso snatches Agwe and Cia and hurtles out of the room. Yes, she is a baby, but God advances demons when born, like if you were to get on a terrifying ride. When you get on it, it scares you and don’t know what to do, but soon you adjust to the ride. And just like the ride situation, Agwe and Cia run on their own.
Clay groans and gets up out of the wall as he steps toward the door. Suddenly, he runs; his hands were moving to the side of his body while his legs were pumping forward and backward, one of the most common running stances. He catches up to them and scooped them up by the waist. “So troublesome.”
He shakes his head back and forth like she disappointed him and carries them in his arms back to the room.
He flicks Calypso across the forehead, leaving blood running down a little cut on the front of her forehead before placing back into his wife’s arms. It was very painful, but she didn’t cry.
Instead, she laughed. This entertained her. Being able to run free and get into trouble for supporting the people you love, it’s better than she thought.
“He’s my dad.” She conceived. Eventually, everyone joined in with her on the laughter.
After a few minutes of them resting, a group of unfamiliar people ran into the little-cramped room.
“Mom, are these the little ones? One of them is bleeding.” One boy that ran into the room shifts his eyes from Calypso to Clay, shocked for Calypso had looked more guilty than the others.
“Dad, what happened to you? Your face is red and there’s a hole in the wall.” The strange boy asked. Calypso just concluded that he was one of her many brothers.
He had bed-ridden golden hair, an innocent face like that of a child, strong black horns, rough and strong black wings, and a slimy black and red demon tail instead of a werewolf one.
“Calypso slapped me,” Clay explained to him. “So, I hit her back.”
“. . . Who is Calypso?” The boy asked confused for he was scratching the back of his head.
“This one.” Clay points at Calypso.
“You,” the boy points to her, then to the wall. “Did that?” He asked her.
“Yeah, he told you it was me, didn’t he?” Calypso replied, a little annoyed with his stupid remark.
“Oh, my . . . what a temper. Who is older out of all of them?” He asked Adena, their mom, holding his hands above his head as if he had been surrendering.
“Amanica es la más antigua, Agwe es la segunda y Calypso es la más joven.”
“. . . That means she was born with the power. The angel power.” He says, with a little hesitation, shocked.
“Yes, we saw it. Can you do it again, mi querida flor?” She proposed to Calypso in a soft tone.
“Yes, Mommy.” She changed to her angel form.
“Wow. Why don’t we give her a name? I mean, ya’ll haven’t named her yet, right?” The boy requests.
“Elroy’s right. What should we name her, babe?” Her mom asked her dad. “So, the boy’s name is Elroy, weird,” Calypso says telepathically to Agwe and Cia. Because of the demon’s power, they could do so.
“You decide, I’m the demon. I don’t want to name the angel.” He says abruptly.
“Fine,” Adena said with a sigh, irritated with her husband. “I’ll name her Anastella. It means a shining and gracious star because she will be a star.”
After going to their home and living there for a year, Anastella or Stella was in the living room, staying with her siblings as she played in the corner with them. The palace is enormous with a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling; the color of the palace was red and pale; it was huge and loved by many people who lived in the kingdom.
Thoughtlessly Stella runs into the palace as a group of people encompasses her. She couldn’t see them. She can see their figures, but not them. They were all too blurry.
“Mommy, everyone is blurry. I can only see their shape.” Stella states tugging on the sleeve of her t-shirt like an innocent child.
“Does her angel form need glasses?” Adena answers bending down at her.
“Baby, please change back to Calypso.”
“Yes, Mommy.” Stella changed back to Calypso in a mix of mulberry and lavender aura.
As she changed back, Adena questioned Calypso, “Honey, can you see?”
She peeled around the setting and turned back to her. “Nope. Why?” Calypso answered in a confused tone.
“I’ll buy some glasses for both of them, Mom,” Elroy said as he runs to the store.
By this time, Calypso had the body of a five-year-old, though she was a baby because they developed early. She could fully talk and walk, so most would assume she was five when really she was a-year-old.
She was standing around with Agwe and Cia, looking like the badasses they were. Randomly, her oldest and strongest sibling, Channe, challenged her. His name had meant the young wolf, which is very accurate because he looks like a tall wolf cub. Channe has muscles by the pound, black raggedy hair, and some dusty blue ripped jeans.
He looked down at her as if she had been some tiny crumb from the greatest food. He wanted to crush her and then sweep her onto the floor. She accepted his battle with great pleasure.
“Ready! Set! Go!” her dad yells, throwing his hand down from it being in the air.
As soon as he says that, Calypso strikes Channe hard enough to send him flying to the wall. He held stomach once he fell from the wall, not prepared for the little girl that had stood before him. She jumped as high as she possibly could, which was at least two feet, and stomped on his back, only slightly breaking it.
He rose from the puddles of his blood and convulsed, trying to release the blood that had been filling his lungs. Calypso traveled back to the ring they had been fighting in before.
Her father came up to her and held her hand up from her winning and cheered, “Calypso is now the strongest demon.”
From across the playing field, Channe announced, “You win, you win. Whoa, you’re only a toddler. How are you so strong?” He questioned while Calypso just shrugged, not sure of the answer either.
Five years later, before their birthday, Calypso is wandering through the dwelling. While strolling, she spots guards and kitchen staff roaming, looking as if they needed to be somewhere. The kitchen staff was walking in the same direction as her and the other walking in the opposite direction.
Truly, she was starving. She passed the kitchen as the stressed chef walked in and she retreated into the kitchen’s doorway, curiosity overcoming her.
“This kitchen is too big.” The kitchen tiles were a shade of black and white trailing across the floor, long, dark oak cabinets that surrounded the island in the middle, a double-stove for saving time, and a huge fridge built into the wall.
Calypso spots the kitchen staff working tirelessly in the kitchen as if they were slaves. They were all in aprons and white buttoned-up collar shirts, shorts sporting their lower bodies.
“Hello, why are ya’ll workin’ so hard?” Calypso asked them benevolently, holding her hands behind her head.
They looked at her shocked and a little scared. “Hello. You must be Princess Calypso, the newest princess. Where are your twin brother and sister?” One of the many chefs encouraged. Her name tag had stated, Nori.
She has long, beautiful pumpkin hair, a chef’s outfit like Calypso examined earlier, and pale tan skin as if it were a roasted marshmallow though her parents had created a mix of Trinidadian and Asian.
“First, you can call me Caly and second, they downstairs. I’ll call ’em up now. Agwe! Cia! Come ’ere!” She yells in a ghetto tone as they come bolting up the stairs.
“Right they look tired?” Calypso asked Agwe and Amancia as they walked into the room. All the workers had bloodshot eyes and bags under their eyes.
“Exhausted, what are you all doing, anyway?” Amancia says sharply.
“We’re making dinner for the feast tonight,” Nori says.
Agwe pushed her out the way, not hastily and says, “Let us take over, ya’ll take a break. Ya’ll look like ya’ll haven’t slept in a minute.”
“Please kids, let u—” They cut her off and prepared for the cooking, excitement lacing their faces. The other chefs quickly took the message and went to their rooms while Nori hesitated before going.
“Listen up people,” Calypso says crossing her arms all high and mighty standing on a chair to make herself look taller. “The chefs aren’t workin’ right na’ so it’s up ta’ us. Todos sabemos que nuestra madre nos enseñó el arte de cocinar, así que vamos a poner eso en exhibición.”
As she is talking, their big sister, Ratnali walks in. She’s older than them by a few days for they don’t possess the same mom. They stared at their older sister. She has straight lengthier peach hair that starts off as a black and goes into the peach, wolf ears and tail, a long-sleeve skull shirt with a black background, and a pale pink skirt that starts at her belly-button and reaches her knees. It gave her an innocent yet punk look.
She was the only one, other than Agwe and Amancia, that had werewolf blood running through their veins. They are close with her because her mom was a full werewolf, not only part like her mom. Only those three have werewolf blood because their moms also possessed werewolf blood. People called them “Four Hit” because when they would fight you, it would usually only take four hits to kill you.
“What you guys doin’?” She asked with a relaxed posture, curiosity lacing her tone.
“We was helpin’ the kitchen staff with the cookin’, you wanna help?” Calypso offered once more in a ghetto tone.
“Sure, why not?” She replies, lining up with Amancia and Agwe.
“As I was sayin’, Agwe, you’re on the pig roast. Cia, you’re on pineapple chunks. Nali, you’re on rice and veggies and I’ll do the cake. Let’s get to work.” She said as she clasped her palms together.
After a few hours, they finally finished. “And . . . done,” Calypso says, putting the last piece of frosting on the cake while also breaking the concentrated silence.
“Same here. My masterpiece is finally complete. I call it, The Toasty Roasty.” Agwe replied, standing with his hands crossed, smiling from ear to ear like Soma Yukihira from Food Wars.
“My perfect pineapple chunks. We gonna to rock this,” Amancia says, taking pride in her work, looking at them delicately.
“My rice looks celestial, alon’ with my lovely veggies,” Ratnali says, looking at the rice and veggies ever so delicately like Amancia.
“I made two cakes and Agwe, I assume you made two of The Toasty Roasty?” Calypso says staring at Agwe.
“Of course. Now let’s have the chefs be the judges.” He says. They all have some sort of substance on their faces. Calypso has flour, Agwe has barbecue sauce, Amancia has pineapple juice she licks off with her light pink tongue, and Ratnali has a few grains of rice on her face.
As the judges tried their food, their hearts were jumping out of their chest, nerves exploring the new territory. The judges’ faces went from fear to confusion.
“This is delicious, so much more flavor than our food ever held. Please help us cook from now on.” Nori begged, tearing up at their work, being completely honest to herself and the other chefs.
“Of course. This was fun, don’t you agree guys?” Calypso asked Agwe, Amancia, and Ratnali. “Agreed.” They say in unison.
Once dinner started a few minutes later, they all sit down at the table, joining their family. “This is for Agwe, Amanica, Calypso, and Ratnali for their birthday. Let us have another successful year.” Her dad says, in a proud voice as the chefs walk in with the food they made.
“Dinner is served,” Nori announces, putting the trays on the table. They all stare at the food, their mouths watering.
“Well, let’s dig in,” Calypso says, grabbing her fork. They all grab their forks and stab into the Toasty Roasty. Once everyone took a bite, Agwe flinched a little. Their facial expressions changed from falling in love with the aroma to amazement, just in shock.
“This . . . is amazing. The chefs really outdid themselves.” Her dad says. The children notice that everyone has tears in their eyes. Calypso, Agwe, Amancia, and Ratnali all took a bite out of the food.
It was amazing. Have you ever felt like God put all of heaven into your food? They all just felt that. The rice had a unique taste, like it was fresh out of the ground, just no dirt with hints of Cajun seasoning. The veggies were crisp with a hint of seasoning. They were fresh and looked sprinkled with dew. The sweetly barbequed and tender Toasty Roasty was bacon-covered. The bacon gave it the salt and flavor it had needed. The pineapples taste juicier than apple juice. They were sweeter than sugar itself.
They all tear up, realizing why they were crying. This was heavenly.
As everyone reached for ate, Calypso and her siblings reached for the multiple bottles of hot sauce in the middle of the table to and spice to their food. Calypso’s spice tolerance was at the lowest level, her mouth salivating at the thought of the Louisiana pepper sauce.
She opened the bottle of homemade Trinidadian pepper sauce and poured more than a spoonful on her food. Agwe looked over at her from his hunger-filled craze and noticed her pouring the fire onto her food. “I give you two seconds befo’ you burn,” Agwe said to her.
“Apuesto a que puedo durar tres.” She said to him, sliding a ten-dollar bill towards him, cockiness covering her face.
“Bet.” He said, pulling a ten out of his pocket and putting it in the pile they created.
“Wait, if ya’ll’re bettin’, count us in,” Amancia said to them, the rest of her siblings leaning in as they put their money in the middle.
Satan interrupted them, saying, “Okay children, don’t get out of hand.” sliding a ten in the middle.
Her father obsessed her family with betting, no matter the risk because they were intelligent. Adena despised betting, but she does it every once in a while.
“Okay, here I go,” Calypso says, sweat dripping from her temple as the sauce met her tongue. Tears sprung to her eyes as the first second passed. Her tongue burned, begging to quenched by the serenity of the cool water.
By the second one, she could barely contain herself for her fingers were twitching and sweat covered her entire body.
“Fuck!” Erupted from the entire table once they made it to the third second. The third second had granted her access to the water that sat in front of her. The water rushed down her throat as she quickly drank the water.
She could feel the steam fall from her tongue and thanked God for it. As she got over the heat, she slid her hands forward and enclosed the money, pulling it closer as she said, “I’ll take that, thank you,” cockiness consuming her face.
As she pulled them closer, Nori brought out the cake. It had the words, “Happy Birthday Ratnali, Amanica, Agwe, and Calypso” on it in brown cursive writing. “I didn’t put that on there,” Calypso whispers to them, covering the side of her mouth so no one else could hear her but them while Agwe and the others tried to calm down.
Abruptly, everyone stood. Instead of singing the normal Happy Birthday song, they had all sung the Stevie Wonder version of the Happy Birthday song in unison, adding their names to the “Happy birthday dear” part. Today is the fourth of February, the triplet’s birthday. Ratnali’s birthday had been five days ago, so they celebrate their birthdays together as they turned six years old today. They cried of happiness, except Agwe.
They never celebrate their birthday because of how many people are in their family. Thirty-two people exactly, including them. When demons give birth, it’s usually quite a lot and werewolves give birth to a lot of children, so werewolf plus demon equals many offsprings. So for them to celebrate their birthday is something special.
Seven years later, Calypso had been outside cruising the streets secretly with her closest siblings for at least two hours now. Momentarily, her siblings had all grown their horns and wings. Demons usually get their wings at the age of eleven, but never at the rare age of thirteen. Unlike Calypso, she didn’t have her wings or horns yet.
Just when they are about to head to the construction center they built years before, Calypso collapses. Her siblings quickly turn around and drop to the floor, going to her aid.
“Are you okay?” Amancia asked, worried about her baby sister.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Calypso bluffs with a little laugh, lying through her teeth. Swiftly, Calypso felt something breaking her back. Calypso cries in pain. She faints, pain filling her body.