Chapter Text
Abaddon does not understand the human world.
After all these years, he still doesn’t. It could be chocked up to Abaddon being too busy searching for his skin to learn. Why would he bother observing a world he will never return to once he goes back into the sea. But three hundred years on land is a long time, especially for someone born of the oceans many parts.
A part of Abaddon thinks that maybe a creature like him would never learn the secrets of the other world.
He turns to pull himself out of the hole he’s dug, only to find that the ledge is too far up for him to get proper grip. Curse these little boy fingers!
—
Nathan doesn’t know why he didn’t just sell this hotel. It barely gets any guests, it’s falling apart, and worst of all there are these weird monsters everywhere. ‘Cryptids’ the internet calls them. Nathan prefers the term ‘freeloaders.’
He can handle the banshees wailing in the halls, he can handle the weird wax man that stays in room 214, what he cannot handle is the monsters that kill people. He’s still got cuts on his arms from when he first met Paul, thank god it was an accident and Paul only stabs other cryptids but that could be seriously dangerous!
Nathan supposes he does know why he kept the hotel. He doesn’t have anything else going for him, not really. He’s desperate here! He should’ve listened to Kathy and never moved to Ireland in the first place.
Nathan sighs, wandering down the path to the beach. Maybe he could find some sea glass and sell that? That’s what the last owner said he did.
Just as he was making his way out of the woods and towards the path to the beach, he heard a weird scratching sound. There were always weird sounds, Nathan had still not grown used to it, but this was different. Nathan felt a pull to investigate and despite knowing how dangerous obeying these urges were, he followed the sound.
Somehow, even to this day, things still manage to surprise him.
There’s a boy in a hole, kicking rocks against the wall. How long has he been in here? is this a real boy? Judging by his fingernails, he seems to have dug this by himself. Is this a new internet challenge?
“Hey bud,” Nathan says warmly, reaching his hand toward the boy to help him out of the hole. The boy takes his hand and he promptly pulls him out.
“Are you out here on your own, where are your parents?” Nathan asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. The boy shrugs his hand off.
“I do not require parents and your assumption is insulting,” He responds, scowling at the man.
Nathan finally gets a closer look at the boy, he’s thin and wearing clothes that certainly aren’t from this century. Or the last century for that matter. He smells suspiciously of sea salt as well.
“I don’t really want to leave you here,” Nathan muttered, looking around for anyone that could qualify as a parent, “You’re not like, a murderous spirit are you? I get a lot of those…”
“My intentions are my own and no concern of yours,” The boy said with a roll of the eyes, “I am more than any name you could give me.”
“Right.” Nathan looked away uncomfortably, “Well, I’m going to the beach. You can follow if you want.”
The boy seemed to consider this for a silent moment.
“Very well.”
—
The boy was definitely not human. Seemed like nothing this side of Ireland was. Except Nathan, of course.
The black haired boy was sitting by the shore, feet drenched and watching the water intently. Before Nathan could ask him what he was doing, the boy reached out and grabbed a fish swimming around his feet.
To Nathan’s dismay, he bit the head off the fish and chewed.
“Oh,” Nathan’s voice went up an octave to mask his disgust, “Whatcha got there, bud?”
The boy swallowed, “A blenny.” Nathan had no idea what that was, he seemed to notice. “It’s a small fish found nearby shores, blenny is the name your kind gave it.”
“Is it good, bud?” Nathan suppressed a gag as Abaddon bit down on more of the fish.
“It will suffice.” He nodded.
Nathan kicked his feet in the sand awkwardly, looking anywhere but the boy currently eating a raw fish in front of him. Said boy either didn’t notice his discomfort or didn’t care, Nathan assumed the latter.
“Y’know, I have food in the hotel. Could be better than whatever you’ve been eating recently?” Nathan offered, hoping to introduce him to something other than random ocean creatures.
The child’s brows knitted together, staring at Nathan in a way that he easily mistook for a glare.
“Just an offer!” He held up his hands, “No pressure.”
“I suppose I could try your food.” He walked back up to Nathan, shaking his feet a bit to get the water out of his shoes. Wet socks, ick.
“Oh, forgot to introduce myself! I’m Nathan,” Nathan smiled cheerfully. The child nodded, not volunteering his own name. “And you are-?”
He hesitated for a moment. “Abaddon.”
—
Abaddon, as he called himself, did not seem to understand half of the furniture in his house and understood absolutely nothing about the appliances. What he did know, however, was how to make as big a mess as possible.
Nathan turned around not even five seconds to pour the cereal into the bowl and Abaddon had gotten a spoon lodged in his throat. “It shined and reflected like a fish’s scales,” he insisted. Abaddon supposedly could not understand that maybe not everything that glittered had scales.
“Go sit at the table, I’ve got to pour the milk,” Nathan said absentmindedly, already searching the fridge. When he turned around, Abaddon was not sat. “Aren’t you going to sit at the table?”
The boy frowned, brows tilting as he stared at the chair and back at Nathan.
“Have you never sat at a table before?” Nathan frowned as well, unsure how to explain such a simple concept.
Abaddon knocked over the chair and sat beside in on the floor, glancing up at Nathan and hoping that maybe Nathan wouldn’t notice he got it wrong.
“Fine, just don’t spill anything on the floor,” Nathan mutterers in exasperation, handing the cereal to Abaddon with eyes slightly squinted. Though Nathan did manually put the spoon in Abaddon’s hand and showed him how to use it. He’d rather not get milk and cereal everywhere.
Nathan moved the spoon into Abaddon’s mouth slowly and didn’t remove it until Abaddon got the food off the spoon with his tongue. Abaddon chewed thoughtfully before eagerly going back for more. It was good, really good. It was nothing like anything Abaddon’s ever eaten before.
“Is it good?” Nathan chuckled, minding how eagerly he ate.
“Yes,” Abaddon was quick to reply. “What is this? Where do you find it?”
“Oh that? It’s just frootloops and milk, and I think I got it at Dunnes?” Nathan’s smile widened a bit watching the boy leave not even a crumb left in the bowl.
“Dunnes…” Abaddon tested the word, brows furrowing. “Hmm, this knowledge is appreciated. I will remember this when the world floods,” Unsettling, but Nathan let it go.
The boy promptly got up, grabbing the now empty cereal box on his way out. Nathan tried to ask him where he was going but Abaddon was already out the door before he could, leaving Nathan pondering what Abaddon could possibly be. And more importantly, where he’d see the boy next.
—
Abaddon held the cereal box up, trying to decipher the weird symbols. Also, what the hell was a Dunnes? Was that a sea? A forest, perhaps? Abaddon did not want to ask another human, they were always so foolish.
Everyone in the nearby town already didn’t like him. Apparently humans didn’t like their space invaded and will react with violence if they catch you in certain manmade structures. Abaddon could not figure out which structures were ok to enter and which ones weren’t, but he supposed he didn’t care as much as they did. One of these houses ought to have his coat, and he will find it.
Though he was more cautious after being shot by a farmer some years back. The natural means of decay that befell the beings of this world did not harm him. Sickness would not invade his system, nor would age slow him down, but the forces of violence could. Of course, a being as ancient and pure as a water spirit was gifted enhanced healing, but that doesn’t change the fact he has to actually live through the ordeal.
Another well placed shot could end him. And that knowledge had given him newfound pause that hasn’t quite left him. Land made him weak.
Maybe he could convince that Nathan to help. He was human and was naturally foolish because of that, but he wasn’t violent foolish. He was the other kind. The kind that Abaddon had learned so many years ago was easily persuaded.
At the very least he could provide more of that “cereal” or some other food that he wouldn’t even have to hunt for.
This would prove to be a very interesting gambit, perhaps the most fun Abaddon has had in 300 years.