The candles lit the air around them, waiting to turn dark like the ones ready to blow them out.
It was her three-month-birthday. Like babies. But unlike the dumb gen-z pre-pre, pre, actual, pre-post, post and post-post celebrations because they didn't have that many candles. Candles are expensive. At least the right ones are.
She remembered her first month birthday. The witches had them pay a whopping 300 bucks for one damned candle. Can you believe it? They all chipped in for the newbie that time, but their donations would have to start diminishing and she must be able to finance her first annual birthday. Fortunately, that was quite far.
Her real, or more like past life birthday was next month. She had no intention of visiting her father on the occasion as it will be her four-month birthday the same day. I t would be awkward if she visited.
They all held hands and silently prayed before blowing out the candles. The room went darker and the creamy smoke from the candles slithered down their lungs. The room was silent. They all looked at each other, waiting for someone to say something. Finally, Azrareth broke the silence.
"Is somebody gonna turn the fuckin' lights on or what?", he bellowed in his raspy voice. He wasn't going to, that is why he asked. He was one of the elders, though he looked merely in his late twenties. One of the new ones ran towards the switchboard and slapped all the switches at once. But the room stayed dark.
"Seriously?", Azareth said. He sat on the floor disappointed. "Ah. Sor--sorry sir. My uh...", Cristine stuttered. It was her place. "Do you people like, do anything on time? How much is the bill? Here take all my money you blood sucking abominations and pay your fucking bills", Azareth said.
All 6 of the younglings stood motionless. If it wasn't necessary to have at least one elder at the initial birthdays, they would have been a lot more easy. Cristine quickly brought a chargeable lamp to ease the tension. They all turned to Serena now, as their faces were distinguishable in the peircing blue light.
"So have you decided any name yet, Serena?", asked Azareth. "No, sire. Not yet", she said. "Hmm. It's okay. Take your time. You have three more months to decide". They started nibbling on the dry bones in the ceremonial bowl.
Somewhere nearby, sat a a middle aged man, cursing his daughter and her boyfriend. He had known the very moment he had laid his eyes on that boy that he was trouble. Now, he had a ghos--no , a demon for a daughter who was not interest in living with the old- fashioned,wiIdly misunderstanding father.
He had tried to make her understand that it will go away if she prays regularly. She had told him that it wasn't a phase and its what she was. They both hadstomped their feet and both had vowed not to see each other ever again.
Yet, here the old man sat surrounded by phoney grimoires. Hoping to find the least blasphemous way of summoning his kid. Why don't you just text me dad?, she had expressed her dislike of calls to him like every other youngsternowadays.
Well, now some dark lord was to transfer his call like old times. Who's old now huh?