The Imps

The Imps

By: Stephanie R.M. East



         Let my heart be free from the intensified bonds that tie me to him. Let my mind be free to wander from his entrapments. Let my soul be free from this deadly union.

Panic drowns me as the car spits out the gravel drive from underneath its spinning tires. Anxiety burns in my chest as his heavy footsteps crunch through the fallen leaves of Sister Autumn. Depression locks me in as his dark cloak encases me. I fall to sleep within its security.

I awaken in a dizzy state of mind, knowing that the potion he spat at me forced me to lose all consciousness. As the days pass, my captor manufactures more and more products from my elfin blood. (It has been proclaimed that the blood of a pure elf can purify the soul of any person who has been corrupted.)

I squint in the dimness of my bedroom. Father Sun has fallen asleep and impish shadows from the light beside my bed chase each other on the gloomy walls of cold stone. The three imps, who are controlled by my captor, watch me constantly to make sure that I do not try to escape.

The potion is burning in my skull, burning away all memories of my past before him. However hard he tries though, I will always remember.



Sister Summer’s scalding sun glares off of the speeding cars, blinding me as each passes by. I stand alone at a foreign bus stop, my belly swollen, my mind evaporating with each wave of heat that strikes my sunburned face. The women that are old enough to be mothers shield their children from me. The men that have had enough bravery and faith to stand by their loves glare brighter than the cancerous sun. I seem a leper to all of them, an unwed (for I do not wear any rings), teenage mother-to-be. I am homeless, kicked out for my sins. I am loveless, left for my truth. I am hopeless, abandoned for my solitude.

I stood there, clothed only in my school uniform – which barely even fit before my pregnancy. The tardy bus seemed to take hours with the heat that reverberated off of the coal black road. Then, there came a shock, a pinch, a disastrous fall.



I lay in the hospital bed, in fear of the pale man that sat in the chair next to me. His long black hair graced the chair that was before devoid of all beauty. His suit was tailored to perfection, framing his musculature; his overcoat lay at the foot of my bed. I forgot to question him on why he was wearing an overcoat during Summer’s months. His eyes, which I presumed were as piercing as the rest of his form, were hidden behind dark glasses. His apologies were relentless.



The sidewalk was crowded, too crowded. A law office set precariously near the perpetually-packed bus stop in Downtown could not be reached; and the magnificent yet mysterious man was forced to push and prod his way through the mob. He stumbled over a briefcase, falling against an elderly man, causing a domino effect to erupt. I was the last domino, standing nearest to the curb. The shock came from the push by one of the father’s. The pinch was from my too-tight clothes digging into every crevice of my body that they could reach. The fall was when I tripped into the street and my arm was crushed under one of the many noon rush hour cars. The ambulance siren wailed in my brain.

When I awoke in the hospital bed, I was at first unsure of what had happened. I could not feel my arm, and when I looked down, I found it to be sealed in several pounds of plaster. A doctor entered the room, an elf by the shining blue in his eyes and point of his ears. After checking me over, the gentleman was ushered into the room, along with my son.

“I’m very sorry for what happened, Madam…” The pale man spoke. His voice had a seductive intonation, one that could easily sweep a woman off of her feet.

“Uh, that’s all right. My name’s Elisa,” I said, extending my unhurt arm.

“Why then does your hospital bracelet say your name is Amandria Elisana then?” He questioned, pointing at the white piece of plastic that encircled my wrist.

“Because I go my Elisa, Sir.”

“My name is Mateo Nikolas Demetri, and you may simply call me Mateo, Miss Elisa. You have a handsome son there; what are you going to christen him?”

I was saved from answering any more questions – at least for the time being – by a blonde buxom nurse. “There’s someone here to see you.” She giggled, ushering a brunette buxom beauty into my room.

“Amandria, why didn’t you call me? I can’t believe this. How are you going to pay for this? You haven’t got any insurance and it’s very rude not to let me know you were in an accident.” Victoria, my ex-boyfriend’s sister, asked in one breath. Her voice crackled like an old hag’s, echoing off of the pink-stained walls. For all of her beauty, Victoria’s smoking and drinking was disintegrating her form.

“Madam, Miss Elisa has just woken up. There was no way for her to call you.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“I am Mateo Nikolas Demetri, Attorney at Law. I…”

“You hired a lawyer, Amandria? How, you have no money? Anyway, it’s not anybody’s…”

“Madam, I am the reason Miss Elisa was hurt. I stumbled and somewhat pushed her into the traffic.”

From where I lay, I could see Victoria writhing. Before Mateo could get another word out, or even a syllable of a word, my would-be sister-in-law turned on her haunches, stomping out of the room.



It was not until the blonde nurse came in and told him that visiting hours were over that Mateo left. When he finally sauntered off, after prompting me continuously to let him pay my medical bills, the room fell silent. I cradled my son in my arms, unsure of what to do next.



It was not until the sixth month of my pregnancy, when I began to show greatly, that I gave word to any of my family and friends. Victor immediately disclaimed the child that was rapidly growing within my womb, turning me out of his life. My father and mother were next, disowning me as their own and turning me out onto the streets with a mere twenty dollars. (As an elf, I should have known they would. Premarital conception is one of the greatest sins an elf can commit, for it is impure.) I pleaded to all of my friends; they all turned me out, decontaminating their homes from the disease that I had left within them. Victor, a prime subject for future mayor of our fair town of Elaydna, had gotten to everybody. He had told an immense number of the population of La’Kesadi Knoll – the elfin region of Elaydna – that I carried the spawn of the Caaspo, or warlocks. (While Elves have pure blood, describing their powers as healing, warlocks – cross-breeds of imps and elves – have corruption within theirs. The powers of most warlocks are mere seduction, though some have a power to tear a person’s soul from another. The latter power, which even seems corrupt to the Caaspo, is usually only found in the Caita family.) Victoria, who lived in the Tri-Sector of Elaydna called La’Lalela Knoll, heard of what her twin brother had declared, but refused it.

Sending word to me via her own boyfriend, she paid for me to leave the haven of my community, having to trek on my weary feet through the Caaspan sector called La’Methriya Knoll, until I reached the Downtown (business) sector of Elaydna. From there, I could take a transit bus straight to Victoria’s home.

Passing through La’Methriya Knoll was easy enough. The Caaspo had heard and believed that I carried a warlock’s child, and so they gave me food, water, and shelter when a rainstorm hit. However, when I reached Downtown, I was looked upon with scorn. The warlock’s there did not believe that I carried a Caaspan child, and so they turned their heads from me. The elves that both lived and worked and the elves that merely worked in Downtown banded together, throwing me out of any shelter’s run by them. At last, one night, I was forced to sleep in an imp shelter known as Igoifihondi, which in their language means Welcome to All. (While I have explained the Caaspan and the Elves, I suppose I should now explain what exactly an Imp is. An imp is a furry little creature that is usually an avatar for some sort of emotion. For example, the proprietor of Igoifihondi was a personification for the feeling of joy.)

When I woke up the next morning, I felt more rejuvenated than ever before. I sped to the Post Office, discovered that the money had finally been wired, and sped off to the bus station to order a ticket to La’Lalela Knoll on that very day. I obviously never made it.



What was I to do? As a lay in bed, awaiting Mateo to bring me my dinner, Victoria re-entered my room and told me that I had a beautiful baby boy.

“Thanks, but what else do you have to say, Tori?”

“I just found out I’m pregnant. I already told my boyfriend, and we’re going to get married in a couple of days. But Amandria, we can’t house ourselves, our baby, you and your son. I think we should give him to the Council.”

The Elaydna Council for Needy Children is what she meant, and I knew it. She wanted me to give up the son that I had destroyed my life for and whom I had carried fretfully nine months, two weeks, and four days.

I spoke with my doctor, and he told me that it was my choice, not Victoria’s.

“However, Miss Elisana, if you do choose to keep your son and your ‘sister’ will not take you in, you must provide everything for him or the Council will take him anyway.”

I spent the night wide awake, fighting myself over what to do. If a give him to the Council immediately, I will never be able to see him again. But, I’ll have a warm home – Victoria’s – to live in. If I don’t give him to the Council, Victoria won’t let me live with her. Then, I’d probably get him taken away anyway and I’d never be able to see him again, and I’d be cold because I wouldn’t have anywhere to live. In the morning, I finally chose my path, though it was not one that I chose readily.



My beautiful baby boy, who I would have named Ephraim, was delivered to the Council at 1:04 p.m. Furthermore, at 1:09 p.m., I was delivered into the hands of a man whom I knew nothing of. It was a choice I would later learn that I had not made of my own free will.

Mateo Nikolas Demetri’s dedicated name was what he told me, though he had used his second middle name as his last. In truth, his family name was none other than Caita, the name of the warlock family that mutated their powers to steal souls. On the day my son was born, Mateo had entered my mind and had opened the gate for digging my soul out of it.



“You are awake then, Amandria.” I knew that it was not a question that Mateo threw at me after one of his imp captives warned him. I also knew not to speak, for fear of physical repercussions (rape, beating, etc). “My heart goes out to you, darling. I know that this is your son’s birthdays, but don’t you fret, you’ll meet him again. As soon as your powers become mine, you can return to him. What do you have to say about that?”

I have to say that you’re an evil bastard! My mind screamed out. Yet, my brain and lips spoke different words, “just kill me now.”

With that, the warlock grabbed my chin and forced me to look up at him. “Your eyes shall be mine. Your forces shall be mine. YOU ARE MINE!”

He tossed me back down on the bed, and I heard his footsteps clunk out into the hall. The silver key clicked in the lock and his cackles began to fade as he clacked away on his steel-tipped boots.

I noticed when I looked at him that his vacant eyes were scarred from more fights. He must have known I would have noticed or he would not have taken off his shades. His shield had been depleted as well, the shield that had kept me from knowing who he was when I first met him. His powers are weakening, for the aura around him is fading away.

He wants my eyes, for I can see things before they happen. He wants my shield, for mine enables me to not just hide but also to falsify what I am. He wants my aura, for it is sustained within my elfin healing and with that, he can kill all of my family, friends, and people without being injured. He wants me and he has me, for the imps that he controls swarm around me and warn him whenever I stir.

“I pray to all of the Gods and Goddesses that might hear my cry.” My voice seems far away in the cavernous room. “Let my heart, mind, and soul be free from this man who shall carry me away.”

His cackles rise once more and I know that he has stood outside since the moment the imps warned him of my slight movement on the bed. I will pray forever for the sanctity of the elves. I know that my own hope dissipated the moment I went with him. The only way now to protect the elves is to become a martyr for them.

Three days later, my prayers are answered. The imp called Panic draws my head into the bathtub, drowning me. The imp called Anxiety slams a branding iron into my bare chest, burning me. The imp called Depression steals me away and my mind becomes his. Mateo rips through the final barrier of my powers, drinking them in.

Yet, my prayers were answered. As he harvested my eyes from my unshielded and de-aurafied body, my sense of security rose up and I drowned him with all of the emotions that had built up within me. I burned him with all of the hatred that had scalded my heart. I desecrated him with all of the sickening thoughts that had overpowered me. I killed him with my mind within him.



I awoke in the same hospital bed where I had lain when I had chosen to live with a man who I never knew. My son, whom I had missed seven years of his life, reached out to me, thanking all of the Gods and Goddesses that returned me to him. Victoria had taken him in and named him Ephraim, for she knew what I wanted and she knew that I would return. Her own son, Adam, had rejoiced in the fact that he had a sibling surrogate.

Victor sat with his son, knowing from the moment he was introduced to Ephraim that he had made a mistake that could have cost everybody their lives.

My mother, father, and everyone else who had turned me away came to my bedside and pleaded for my forgiveness. I begged them to stop, for it reminded me to much of when I first met Mateo.



Let my heart be free from the intensified bonds that tie me to him. Those bonds were broken the moment I lashed out and took back control of my life.

Let my mind be free to wander from his entrapments. Now, he is trapped in my mind instead of the other way around.

Let my soul be free from this deadly union. With him being within me, my soul will never be free. Yet, I control the imps that he once did.

Panic drowns him, for the fear of my returning powers. Anxiety burns him, for the fear of never returning to the world he meant to destroy. Depression locks him in, for his fears control him.