“What did the minions tell you?”
“Huh?”
Flashes crossed through the mirrors, but they were too fast for Melchom to follow properly.
The realization made his eyes widen. That never happened. No human brain was that complex.
“I know the minions spoke to you, in the cells and then in the hallway. You can’t lie or keep things from me.”
He’d just discovered otherwise, but the human wouldn’t need to know. Besides, it didn’t look like the human was in control of what he was doing.
“M-minions?”
“They can’t hear you here.”
Melchom watched as the human’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Repeatedly.
“They’re just annoying.”
“I suppose they are.”
Melchom wasn’t paying too much attention, instead focused on chasing all the stray thoughts in his human’s head. He caught something about hair, and being scared that Melchom might be worse than them and how he didn’t want to pick sides.
His nostrils flared. The human’s worry was sweet, if not incredibly naive. That wasn’t what made him fume. He tried to dive deeper into the human’s mind, but there was nothing else, no explanation about what they’d want his hair for—if that was what that flash of a memory had been about.
Melchom couldn’t let the human know he was concerned, though, so he took a deep breath and focused back on his initial plan. Taunting and scaring him until his guts were full. Seeing how long it would take to make him cry.
“What do you think of King David, tiny human?”
The human blinked owlishly, as if he’d just been slapped. If he’d been slapped, though, he wouldn’t still be standing on the same spot. The mental image made Melchom smirk.
“W-who?”
“King David,” he repeated as he began to circle him. Humans got very squirmy when he did that. “Your namesake. The person you’re named after.”
“I… I never go by David, first of all, and I…” He tilted his head to the side, eyebrows scrunched up. “Are you talking about the guy from the Bible?”
“Who else,” Melchom growled.
More than two millennia old, and he hadn’t learned to keep his chill when it came to the man who’d dethroned him—or the book that had immortalized the human king as a hero.
“Great, so my mind’s now decided I need to revisit my Bible study days.” The tiny human started shivering. It was easy to pick up that those Bible study days didn’t bring happy memories. “He… He beat Goliath, right? And became King and did something about Jerusalem? And… There was something about a brother?”
Melchom hadn’t imagined it would be a difficult question for someone who’d studied the Bible, but his human was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.
The coppery scent was heady.
“Yes, that man.”
“I… I mean, I don’t know.” He gulped again, sweat starting to dribble down his forehead. Melchom wanted to lick the salty drops, but he refrained. Humans needed to be broken in gently, and he needed an answer to his question first. “I liked the Goliath story?”
“Did you believe it?” he taunted. “A tiny man, beating a giant? Or did it bring comfort? Do you relate to the usurper King of Israel, human?”
“Usurper? And no, I… I thought the Bible wasn’t real.”
Melchom laughed. Such sweet naiveté. “Not all of it is.”
“Right.”