Occhiolism

I love participating in Daelyn Morgana’s Wednesday Word’s Reborn. You can find her weekly writing prompts for Flash Fiction here!

This week’s prompt was about unconditional love. Please see my entry below. You can also find it as a comment on her blog. I highly recommend participating. It is a blast, she has excellent writing prompts.

“Delogoggog” – Feb. 26th, 2025

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Work had been utterly exhausting. Spending three hours in a meeting room negotiating the terms for cease fire between two Pyre families was not my idea of a pleasant evening. As a Nullifier with a subtype in Emotional Suppression my career path had been decided for me before I could even talk. I could either go work for the government or I could become a Family Negotiator. I didn’t want to be a glorified interrogator for the government so I’d gone to law school.

Still, tonight’s negotiations had pushed me to my limits. The Hashimoto family was small but all of their family members were S-Rank. Meanwhile, the Clarks had mainly B-Ranks with two A-Ranks, but they outnumbered the Hashimotos four to one. The war had started over a shop at the intersection of their territory. A profitable tea house and cafe. Neither one had wanted to give up “protection” rights.

I was exhausted when I finally locked up my office for the evening, slipped my phone out of my pocket, and headed to the elevator. I glanced at the screen of my cellphone as I pressed the call button. The notifications screen caused me to miss and painfully jam my finger against the panel.

100 missed calls. Fifty texts.

Starr: Hiiiii…. You said Dela was going to be going through ranking soon? What’s her power
Starr: Hello??
Starr: Um…. What time is her bedtime? I thought you said 8:30pm, but she’s saying Delogoggog doesn’t have a bedtime
Starr: Hey what
Starr: OMG ANSWER THE PHONE

The messages got progressively more panicked, I closed my phone with a heavy sigh. Of course, Dela would test the new baby sitter. Starr had come highly recommended by a coworker. She babysat for Pyres, Floods, Movers, and Readers. She should have been able to handle my three year old.

“Home.” I told my driver as I got in the car. “Quickly.”

We pulled up to my modest two story house in a gated community to find several of my neighbors out on the street and an eight foot tall demon chasing a blonde woman around the cul-de-sac.

Starr, the blonde woman, was screaming as she was chased. The demon was made of shadows with flaming antlers and crimson eyes. It laughed with a hundred different voices and shouted, “Delogoggog has no bed time!”

My closest neighbor watched the entire event while drinking from a coffee mug. Occasionally he tossed out a bit of imaginary fire to help emphasize Delogoggog’s words and send Starr scurrying further in the circle that was our connected driveways.

I shot him a glower as I got out of my car, I tipped the driver and sent him on his way. I turned toward the demon and raised my voice, “Dela Marie Adair! It is 11 o’clock and it is well past your bed time! You stop terrorizing your babysitter right now!”

The demon turned toward me and a hundred voices screamed, “MOMMY!”

I winced. The demon collapsed in on itself and there stood my brown haired, green eyed toddler. She was dressed in a pair of dinosaur pajamas and her hair was in pigtails. She had Godzilla slippers on that roared as she ran toward me and threw herself at my legs.

“Mommy!” She yelled again, giggling. “Mommy home!”

I sighed, swooping her down to pick her up. She curled up against my shoulder and tucked her thumb into her mouth. I glanced in the direction of my neighbor and called, “Michael, you know better than to encourage her!”

He laughed in my direction and said, “I can’t help it if she’s hilarious. Night you two!”

He lifted his mug to me and then ducked back into his house. I glared after him. Michael was a Mirage just like Dela was, and found her antics to be heavily amusing. I had begged him not to encourage her terrorizing my babysitters but he told me to get her one who specialized in Mirages. Like those grew on trees. Mirages were the second most rare type of magic. My own being the first.

Starr was now hunkered down, hiding behind another neighbor’s car. I strode toward her with a now fast asleep toddler on my shoulder. She looked up and saw us. Her eyes grew wide and she screamed, “I quit!”

She ran for her car like her feet were on fire. I sighed and carried Dela into our house. I’d have to find another babysitter tomorrow. Still, the image of my toddler chasing a fully grown A-Rank Reader around the cul-de-sac was a touch funny.

I laid Dela down into her bed, covered her up, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. She was a handful, but she was my heart and soul. I loved my daughter without end.