The Three Syllables of Dad - An Original Short Story by K H Simmons

‘Daaaaaaaad!’

There was no other sound as powerful nor as fear evoking as that one word, somehow stretched to being three syllables. I knew when it came out as three long syllables that today was going to be a difficult day.
Give me white knight ethical monologues any day.

I wondered if I ignored it, would it just go away? I crouched down in the cellar, the light was off so I simply blended into the darkness.

‘Daaaaaaaaaaaad!’

Oh no, it got longer, and it was closer. I could hear his stomping footsteps. Somehow, he managed to sound like a 250 kilo man as he plodded to the top of the stairs. He peered down into the darkness with his red eyes. His rasping breath echoing in the cool air. One hand rested on the banister as he teetered at the top of the staircase. I could see his little mind whirring, puzzling out where I could be.

As his chubby leg took a step down onto the first stair, I knew that I was doomed.
I sighed and stood up. I would have to surrender. There was nothing else for it. I had planned to go and cause a volcano to erupt today. I guessed I would have to cancel that plan. I could almost hear the less-than-sympathetic taunting from my demon bros already.

Me - a demon lord of the utmost calibre - defeated once again by this three-foot toddler barely out of diapers.
I illuminated the darkness with a snap of my claws, the flickering of the floating flames only enhanced the hunger in his eyes. He sensed weakness.

‘Yes, son?’ I asked, dooming myself with my own words.

‘Daaaaad, can we get a hellpup?’ he said in that whiny tone that chilled me to my flaming demonic core.

I knew this day would come. Many hours had been spent preparing my futile explanation.

‘Son, listen, a hellpup is a lot of work. They might look cute and monstrous, but do you know how much those things eat? A full grown one will eat a village - a whole village, houses and all - every week,’ I explained. ‘There's just not enough villages in my territory for that.’

My son looked up at me with eyes as big as saucers. They were already brimming, and his lip began to shake.

‘No, no, no, wait! Err - how about a hellfish instead?’ I asked, trying to stem the flow before it was too late.

He began to tremble, his fists clenched into little balls of insatiable rage. His face contorted into something horrifying as he let out a wail that made the very walls of home tremble. ‘I W-WANT A HE-HELLPUP!’ he gasped between each word, choking as flames burst from his throat uncontrollably. I ducked out of the way as the flames scorched the cellar wall. That would take weeks to scrub off!

I had to stop this before it was too late. The last time he had a tantrum he nearly tore the whole place down, all because he couldn't get an eyeball on his spoon. Everyone knows that's an art you have to learn. This would be worse than that though. This was an ‘I want’ tantrum. The worst kind. All I could do was hope that no one ever heard about this.
I knelt down in front of him and took his little fists of fury in my claws.

‘Ok, how about we go and look at some tomorrow and if you find one you like, we can keep it. But -’

The tears stopped flowing. He glowered at me and sniffed a globule of snot back up his nostrils.

‘B-but?’ he spluttered, still pouting.

‘But, on the condition that you have to look after it, ok? You have to feed it, walk it and clean up after it. Ok?’ I looked him in the eye. Bargaining with the devil was risky, but I had no other choice.

He considered it a moment, weighing his options. Finally, he nodded in agreement. I breathed a sigh of relief. He wiped away magma-like snot on his wrist and grinned at me with his razor-sharp teeth. In the blink of an eye the tantrum turned to hyperactive excitement. He leapt up onto the ceiling, clinging it to it with his claws as he skittered across the room.

‘We're getting a hellpup, we're getting a hellpup!’ he shouted in a singsong voice as he dropped back to the floor and bounded up the stairs.

That child was going to be the end of me.

About Me

I'm Katy, but go by K H Simmons officially. I write a lot of sci-fi, dark fantasy and dystopian fiction. If you're here for sparkly vampires, you're in the wrong place ;)

I frequently post short stories on my Facebook page, as well as work on full length novels. If you want more short stories like the above - check out my anthology Death, Demons & Dystopia available on Amazon/Kindle. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07YN5DY98

When I'm not writing, I can usually be found cuddling dogs, reading, at the gym or playing video games.