Sleepy eyes fluttered as the delicate hand mirror shattered beneath the
toddler's hands. That time, he really had not meant to break it. He had just
wanted to look at it, but everything the demon touched seemed to smash to
pieces whether he had intended it to or not. Frustrated, Amaimon picked up
remnants of the glass and pulverized them into the ground sending shards
skittering across the floor. Finding amusement from this activity, he repeated the
action.

Absorbed and pleased by his own destruction, the toddler looked up sharply
when he heard a voice. "That was your great grandmother's." Amaimon's mother
stood in front of him, her hands placed upon her hips, leering down at him. The
toddler stared at her impassively. No doubt she was angry with him. She was
always angry with him. Mindful of her gaze, Amaimon moved to turn his body
away from her, but some sharp nails dug into his chin, forcing his head up.

The demoness snarled at him "You won't be satisfied until you've taken
everything from me, will you?" Amaimon let the ground tremor beneath them,
hoping that she would let go and he could go back to playing. Instead she slapped
him across the face with such force, it caused the toddler's head to strike the side
of the nearby wall. Amaimon flattened up against the wall in a pathetic bid for
security. He clutched at his stung cheek in shock.

Amaimon's mother was a demon, ergo she was prone to violence. He had seen
several instances of her anger unleashed upon hapless lesser demons and
servants. She had always threatened him with the arbitrary beating or two, but
the threats had never amounted to anything until now. The young demon's
disbelief wore off quickly. Amaimon charged at his mother, snapping his jaws and
baring his nails. He latched onto her arm, but before he could tear into the flesh,
his mother pried him off and slammed his head against the ground.

Amaimon cried out and instinctively curled into a ball. His mother lifted his
head up by his horn, a trickle of blood ran down his mouth as he whimpered. She
smiled cruelly at him. "What would your father say if he could see you now?
Perhaps then he would concede that you were a mistake from the start." She
laughed. Maybe it was the way she sneered at him, maybe it was the way she
held him by his embarrassing horn, or maybe it was just the way her shrill laugh
reverberated through his tiny skull like a maddened mantra.

Amaimon clamped his head over his ears and shrieked. A crack in the floor
appeared between the two demons and ripped the ground wide apart. His
mother backed away from the gaping fissure. Gone was her smile of cruel delight,
replaced by a sense of uncertainty and lingering fear. Amaimon panted for breath
as he made it to his feet. "D-don't … laugh at me." His mother glared at him. She
looked as though she were about to make a retort, but thought better of it. The
toddler sat back on the floor with a thud. He dangled his feet over the crack in the
floor and he thought how badly he wanted a piece of candy.