Fantasies Do Come True

[LilJennie]

Fantasies do Come True
By: Miki Yamuri and Liljennie

This started out as a simple AB fantasy and went ... another direction. I don't know how that happened. -- LilJennie

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Jakolb Urinie had finally managed to get home. He shut the door to his house and locked it, leaning heavily against the door and exhaling, then walked into the large den and dropped his briefcase into the basket made for it.

By the time he had hit the secret switch to his fantasy room, he had already taken his tie and shirt off. The room was a beautiful nursery with a complete toddler’s play area. He quickly went to one of the chests of drawers, painted a cute pink with little white lambs on it.

From one drawer, he chose a really adorable pair of canary yellow plastic lined rumba panties with white lace and ruffles, and from another he chose a matching fairy princess babydoll dress and booties. He shut those two drawers as he tossed his other items on the rail of a bed that was more like a crib. From another drawer he opened, he took out a thick cloth diaper, several pink diaper pins, and a large bottle of baby powder.

By the time he had gotten back to the bed that was almost a crib and lowered the side rail, he had already taken off his trousers and kicked his undies off into a far corner. He spread the large thick cloth out, then folded it over so it made a large triangle. He sat with the long end out in front of him and powdered himself well. Once he had pinned the diaper on and squirmed into his panties and dress, he was now ready to relax. He climbed into his crib and raised the rail. He must have been way more tired than he thought, as he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

In his wonderful infantile dreams, a strange glowing woman appeared. She was very pretty and wore a long gold trimmed gossamer gown cinched at her thin waist by a golden sash. She bent over him in his dream and kissed him on his nose. The feeling that went through him at that moment was seriously electric.

She cooed softly, “You poor trapped baby, you can only come out and play in your dreams. Tell you what, lucky baby, you will have a visitor while you’re messing around at the park. She will have a gift for you. Accept it and just say yes to the person who is calling. You will love the result – Auntie promises.” She then gave him one more kiss, before the dream picked up where it had left off: he was a baby girl, and the toys came to life and played with her as she helplessly wet her diaper, feeling so carefree and unburdened by adult cares and worries. Throughout it all, ethereal nursery music played as if from a heavenly music box.

She woke up – or rather, he woke up. He wore the same baby dress he’d worn to sleep, but something was different – oh yes, it seemed he’d wet his diaper. That happened sometimes, and it always made him happy when he wet in his sleep, because it made him feel more like he was really a baby. Part of him knew, of course, that he wasn’t really a baby at all. That part of him constantly told him, “You’re not a girl, you’re not a baby, you’re a grown man, and you have adult responsibilities. You can take a break from them, but not forever. Nothing is forever except growing up.”

As he stretched and felt the thick, wet diaper he wore, he thought he remembered a dream … there had been a figure in golden light … but he was having a hard time remembering much more.

Well, it was the weekend, and it was time to get cleaned up and maybe go to the park. He enjoyed doing that. So he carefully put his clothes away, put his cloth diaper in a diaper pail to wash later, took a shower, and got all clean. When he got dressed, he made sure to get all powdered and put on a pretty pastel disposable diaper that was thin enough to fit under his clothes – at least, when it was dry. Then he put on a white onesie that looked just like an undershirt if anybody chanced to see hints of it beneath his clothes. Over that he put on some simple black pants and a plaid shirt. The diaper and onesie, secretly hidden under his adult disguise, let him fight off that voice inside him and tell it that it was wrong. He was a baby. He was just pretending to be a grown-up.

Then he took a packet of corn, put it in a bag, and headed to the park.

He had a favorite spot, a bench near a pond where he liked to sit and feed the ducks. Sometimes there were neighbors who came by, people who knew him. He made his way to the bench and sat down. The ducks swam up, recognizing him, and he threw out a handful of corn for them to nibble. “No, no fighting,” he told them, but they ignored him, of course.

“Well, hello there, Jakolb,” said Mrs. Pulinski, pushing her little baby boy in his stroller as she walked by.

“Good morning, Selma,” he replied. Waving at the baby in the stroller, he added, “And good morning to you, little Samson.” The baby ignored him.

“Oh, is that yours?” Selma said, pointing at something on the bench near him. “You should be careful not to lose it.” He looked and saw a mobile phone lying there. It was a bright strawberry pink and looked a few years old – the kind you opened up, not the new kind with the flat screen. Or were phones that folded the latest thing again? He wasn’t sure. But he was sure it wasn’t his phone.

“No, that’s not mine,” he said, picking it up. “I wonder whose it is? We should try to find out and get it back to them …”

And immediately the phone rang in his hand. The ringtone was like … it was exactly like the ethereal music-box nursery music that he just now remembered from his dream. He gasped and almost dropped it. But then he said, “Oh my, it’s ringing – maybe I can find out who it belongs to.”

“Yes, see if they’ll tell you,” said Selma. So he answered it.

“Hello?”

A very softly cooing female voice said, “Hello baby, how is my little girl today?” There was a bit of crackling on the line, as if there was some kind of interference between the area cell phone tower and this phone.

It was so weird as the words tingled all the way through his body and even made him leak a bit in his diaper. He replied shakily, “Baby girl? Who is this?”

The voice giggled softly and replied, “I know what you want in your heart and I need you to answer a simple question for me.” Again that crackle overshadowed the voice, but it still came through.

By this time, what ever it was about this phone and the tone of her voice, he was totally enraptured. He gasped out in a voice sounding more like an infant that a man, “Wh … what question?”

The voice replied, “Why sweetie, do you accept Baby Rules?” He was sure they had said “Baby Rules,” but it was a bit hard to tell with the static …

But the static didn’t affect what happened next. It was as if he had been hit by lightning as those words coursed all through his soul – that is, if lightning could flash an intense baby pink and smell like pure elemental baby powder. He had to answer. He was overpowered and couldn't help it as he screamed out, “YES! I ACCEPT!”

Mrs. Pulinski jumped as she felt some kind of flash coming from her neighbor. “Oh!” she said. “Was it some sort of prank? Who would do that to someone just trying to do a good deed? Such a shame!”

Jakolb had vanished. There was a smell of baby powder, one that Mrs. Pulinski recognized very well from taking care of her children. She looked down to make sure they were all right. There was her son, Samson, and next to him in the tandem stroller was his sister, Jacquelyn, who had fallen asleep in the warm sun. Selma smiled. They were both all right. Her thoughts somehow turned away from the odd disappearance of her neighbor from the bench.

A bag containing a packet of corn sat there on the bench. As the woman pushed her stroller onward down the path and away from the bench, some enterprising ducks flapped their way up onto the bench and poked their bills into the bag.

A small shadowy figure jumped out of the bushes and grabbed at the edge of the park bench, startling the ducks, but long, spidery fingers closed upon nothing. The pink phone was nowhere to be seen. There were some whispered words that could have been curses in some unknown language, but then the figure vanished again into the underbrush.

“Why hello there, Marguerite,” said Selma, passing a friend in the park. “My goodness, who is this gentleman with you?” She hobnobbed with her friend and her new beau.

“And how are you two doing?” Marguerite asked the babies. Samson laughed at her big funny face, but Jacquelyn was still asleep. “Such sweethearts,” said Marguerite. “Well, we don’t want to keep you. Enjoy the lovely day it’s turning out to be!”

As the stroller continued to roll and bounce along the park path, Jakolb gradually woke up. Where was … he? Somehow he knew that his name was now Jacquelyn, and that he was now a she, and a baby at that. She looked to her right and saw … Samson? She recognized him, but she also somehow knew that this baby was her brother. And that meant that … Selma? She tried to look up but only saw the canopy over the stroller.

Selma was her mother now. Something miraculous and strange had happened, and she didn’t know why.

And that voice was gone. The one that had always told Jakolb that he wasn’t a baby girl and was immutably an adult was silent now that it was obviously wrong. This was too good to be true …

Then she saw the face grinning wickedly at her from the bushes. Filled with terror, she pointed at it and started to cry out, but it was already gone.

“Wha happen?” asked Samson. “You OKs?” He was speaking to her in baby babbles, but she understood his meaning.

Jacquelyn babbled back. “Wasa meanie monser goblin thingie! Inna bushes!”

“Wha?” Samson asked, more belligerently this time. “No way me gonna let no mean goblin scare my baby siser! Is my job!”

Jacquelyn couldn’t help giggling. He was just as much a baby as she was. But he’d made her forget for the moment how scared she’d just been. And how weird this was. Did nobody remember that until just a moment ago, Samson had been an only child? Did nobody remember Jacquelyn’s old self and his solitary existence? How had this happened?

And what was that thing she’d glimpsed in the bushes?

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By the time Selma had pushed her two adorable babies home, Jacquelyn was starting to be cranky and in a total quandary. Jacquelyn remembered being a lone wolf sort of individual, and a man, not a baby girl.

Once Selma had cleaned both babies and changed them into their bed time nighties and super thick night time diapers, Jacquelyn lay in the crib her mom had tucked her into and allowed the bottle of wonderful tasting juice to fall beside her.

Jacquelyn managed to sit up after a few adorably cute gyrations. She could clearly see her ... brother, in the next crib sleeping soundly. It was so strange; Jacquelyn knew her memories of being a man weren’t a dream and tried to convince herself this reality was just a fantasy. The only problem with that, she found out, was that her memories of being a man were becoming more and more like the dream and this reality less and less like a dream.

Jacquelyn held her arms out and looked down at herself. She had on an ice-blue shorty flutter top, an obvious super thick diaper, and a cute pair of matching plastic lined rumba panties with ice-blue ruffles and lace.

Her eyes fell on Teddy Bear. For an instant, she almost forgot she was trying to remember being a man as a wonderful wash of infantile glee spread all through her like an electric drug. It took her a bit to shake off the baby girl and almost-kinda-sorta returned to her adult mind. Jacquelyn knew that the baby girl persona was going to win. It had almost completely taken over. Especially with what appeared to be reality all around supporting the fact that she was an infant.

Jacquelyn flopped back into the warm embrace of her snuggie blanket and started sucking her thumb. Next thing she knew, Mommy was cleaning and changing her diaper; the old one was rather wet. Selma twirled Jacquelyn around one time as Jacquelyn screeched with infantile joy, then Selma sat in a large rocking chair with thick cushions.

Jacquelyn realized dimly what was about to happen as she saw Selma unbutton her blouse and take loose some kind of panel. It came away and revealed a beautifully formed nipple and areola. Next thing Jacquelyn knew, Selma gave her nipple a soft squeeze. A large drop of white/clear liquid formed. Jacquelyn was helpless to do anything but nurse as the wonderfully tasting warm breast milk filled her mouth.

For a while Jacquelyn was simply awash in a sea of infantile bliss as she suckled and drank, her tummy filling up with warm milk. A loving voice echoed through her mind, saying, “Do you accept Baby Rules?” This must be what Baby Rules meant, she thought.

There was a scratching sound coming from nearby … she could see a window there out of the corner of her eye … was something there? A shadow blocking some of the daylight? But Mommy almost completely filled her field of vision.

Soon Mommy kissed Jacquelyn on the cheek and put her down in a playpen, then picked up her brother, feeding him as she had her, from the other breast instead. Jacquelyn looked at the window but saw nothing but blue sky and a hint of a distant tree. She found a rolly thing … a ball? Was that the word? Only this rolly thing made funny sounds when she moved it around. She giggled and did it some more. She didn’t even notice when there were more scratching sounds at the window … she didn’t even look up.

And then Samson was in the playpen too, and he wanted to play with a toy wheely thing … car? … that also made noise. He giggled happily, and Jacquelyn noticed that the two of them sounded very similar. She was having fun until she started to have a funny feeling in her tummy … it was kind of a pushing feeling that started coming in waves. Then it got stronger. And weaker. And stronger. Jacquelyn didn’t really know what was happening. She kind of felt something underneath her. It was inside her diaper, and it was getting bigger. But the bigger it got, the better it felt. The waves in her tummy felt so nice, and with each wave the thing underneath her felt bigger. But then the waves stopped.

“Uh-oh, somebody smells like cookies,” said Mommy, who came over and picked up Jacquelyn. In no time at all she had her on the changing table, with her plastic panties down and her diaper open to the cold air … when had it gotten so soggy? … Jacquelyn was being cleaned off with a cold baby wipe and was going to cry, but then she was being powdered, and Mommy had a new super thick diaper on her in a jiffy. The plastic panties went back up, and then there were more kisses from Mommy, making her giggle.

“Maybe it’s time for more sleepies for baby Jackie,” said Mommy, carrying her to her crib and tucking her in. “Don’t worry, your brother’s next. Nighty night, Sweetheart!” Even more kisses from Mommy, and she was all safe in her crib, Teddy Bear and blankie and crib bumpers surrounding her.

Soon Samson was also in his crib, and Mommy had turned out the light … though there was plenty of light still coming in from outside. Mommy pulled the curtains shut, but Jacquelyn could tell it was still daylight out. But babies like her went to bed early … wait, she had almost forgotten that she hadn’t always been a baby. What was going on? What was … but Jacquelyn began to drift off to dreamland before she could think more.

“Ah, Baby Jacquelyn, now your lovely outside matches your lovely inside,” said a voice, and she recognized the woman in the gossamer gown with the gold trim. She bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “You’re now as you were always meant to be.”

“Is this real?” Jacquelyn asked, the first time she’d been able to say a word for hours.

“No, dear, this is a dream,” said the woman. “But awake? Yes, you’re really a baby. Don’t worry how. That’s not important. What’s important is that you get to be your true self.”

“But …” Jacquelyn began, intending to ask about the scary creature she’d seen.

“But there’s something trying to stop you?” asked the woman. “That’s just …” and suddenly she began to fade away, like the dream she was. Then the reality set in. She wouldn’t be a baby for long, because all babies grow up. She and Samson would grow up as brother and sister. But remember, only Samson was Selma’s real child, and soon Selma would realize the truth, and she’d be terribly angry at having been fooled into thinking she had a second child. Especially once she learned who that child had been. Jakolb had intruded his fantasy life into the most sacred, intimate bond imaginable, that of a mother and her child, and he should feel awful.

She gasped and woke up. Something was right there outside her crib. Something dark and shadowy, its diseased yellow eyes glowing vilely as it stared at her through the bars with monstrous glee. Jacquelyn did what any baby would do upon seeing a monster; she screamed her tiny head off and cried inconsolably.

Footsteps thumped through the apartment, and the door opened. The creature was gone, but here was someone else – it was Daddy … he reached into the crib and picked up the crying Jacquelyn, saying with his deep voice, “Aww, my poor little girl, it’s all right, Daddy’s here.” He rocked her and cuddled her, covertly checking her diaper. “Don’t worry, don’t cry, we’ll just get a nice dry diaper on you.” Daddy was pretty good at changing diapers, actually, Jacquelyn thought, as he cleaned her right up and got her diapered again, all cozy. She didn’t remember when exactly she stopped crying, but she was comforted by Daddy’s strong hands and soft touch, cooing at him as he hugged her again and tucked her back into bed. “Now, Mommy and Daddy are always near, so don’t worry.”

Jacquelyn wasn’t worried anymore. She quickly fell asleep again, sucking her thumb. She didn’t think about the terrifying monster again all night.

It sat in the darkest shadow it could find. A stone wall was to its back so it was fairly sure nothing could sneak up behind it. It looked across the way at the window with the soft light glowing. It wasn’t sure exactly what had forced it from its nice comfy home, but it was determined to get back. There was a major issue however. His home had been a grown man, but the only human it could find whose soul felt at all similar was not only an infant, but also female.

Another issue it had run headlong into was some sort of force that repelled it and wouldn’t allow it access. In the many eons it had existed, it had never known of one of its chosen to change the way this one had and then some really strange force … Wait … it remembered something. Innocence could not be taken over by one of its ilk. There had always been a solid core of innocence within the one it had inhabited, and it could never quite extinguish it, but it could surround it with shells of guilt, anxiety, and fear, making it difficult for its subject to reach. But now it seemed as if that innocence had completely engulfed its comfy home.


Now it was mad. It had been forcibly evicted from its home, and there was no way back. It would have to find a compatible soul nearby and occupy that until such time as the little girl grew up enough to loose her infantile innocence.

After the creature sat and examined this strange comeuppance, it began to realize that even if the infant outgrew her infantile state, the major energy variances it was looking to feed on were no longer there. It would not only have to find another suitable host, which wasn’t exactly easy … If it wanted its subject from birth when the infant could be tagged for a claim later when he or she outgrew their innocence, it had better get to the nearest maternity ward and take its place in the long queue of others like himself waiting for their opportunities.

It leapt from the building … but was tugged back as if by an elastic cord. Surprised, it didn’t know what to do, and the fact that it subsequently smacked into the brick exterior of the apartment building didn’t help. It made noises of pain and frustration. It couldn’t leave? Was it … could it be … that perhaps it was still bound to its host? It could get a certain distance away, but not terribly far. In all its years of preying on the negative emotions of mortals, it had never been forced out or left willingly, until its host had died. It had never realized that the relationship went both ways. Its host couldn’t escape it … but it couldn’t escape its host either.

Oh well. It would either have to get back in somehow … or kill its host so it could find another.

If only it could get back inside. It hung there on the wall, unable to fall further. It tried to climb with its sharp scraggly claws, but they couldn’t really find purchase in the bricks. It made the equivalent of a deep sigh and just stuck there, grumpily.

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Meanwhile, Jacquelyn had fallen asleep again. She had more lovely dreams of being a baby, joyfully playing, being fed by Mommy, being held by Daddy, being her pure innocent self. And then that figure bathed in golden light appeared again. “It’s you!” said Jacquelyn. “Who are you, anyway? I think you’re pretty and nice. Are you here to help me?”

The woman in white smiled. “Yes, my dear. I’m one of the spirits of innocence and childhood. We are emissaries of Persephone, goddess of babies. But you are living in a world far from her, which is why she sends us to such worlds. It was she who called you, asking about Baby Rules.”

“Oh!” said Jacquelyn. “Her voice was so pretty! But … there was a monser …”

“Yes,” the woman said gravely. “It is both real and not real, for it is born from your fears, worries, doubts, guilt, and shame. But the more you bask in infancy’s innocence, the less power it has over you. Remember this: you will be a baby as long as you need to be, and as long as you are a baby, no harm will come to you or those you love. Persephone and I shall see to it.”

“Oh, thank you, beautiful spirit,” said Jacquelyn. “I’m so happy that I’m a baby girl in real life, just as I always have been in my dreams.”

“It is who you truly are,” the woman said. “Your world has taught you dire lessons about how badly it can hurt those who do not accept what is. But you have suffered long enough. It is time for you to heal. And the creature will come back, but there is no need to fear it. No one else can see it, and it cannot harm you or anyone else. Now, soon it will be time to wake up.”

But there were things that the woman in white didn’t know about the creature. It was not born of Jacquelyn’s negative emotions. And if it managed to get a foothold, it could counteract the power of Persephone’s servants, though it didn’t know this yet.

After sleeping deeply, Jacquelyn awoke in a wet, messy diaper and cried involuntarily. The morning sun was streaming in the windows. In the other crib, Samson woke up too and started crying. In baby-language, Jacquelyn asked him, “Oh! Is your diaper wet and messy too?”

“Yeah!” he replied in the same way, crying all the while, because that was apparently possible for babies. “Almost always is, in the morning! It’s great! I hope I stay in diapers forever!”

“Me too,” giggled Jacquelyn, somehow also still crying, and soon Mommy and Daddy both came into the nursery and started changing their diapers simultaneously. They were getting really efficient at it.

Then it was time for breakfast. Mommy actually tried feeding both Samson and Jacquelyn at once, which was tricky. Daddy made sure that she didn’t drop any babies while she was at it. The joy of being a baby as part of a family just made Jacquelyn so very happy. But did she deserve this? What had she done to contribute to this family? Wasn’t caring for two children rather than one more expensive? Could this family of modest means afford to keep her?

Jacquelyn gradually realized that this train of thought felt familiar, and she looked around. Yes, there was a shadow at the window, peering in but unable to get closer. She remembered the words of the woman in white – she remembered that it couldn’t harm her, and that feeling that childlike innocence was the way to blight the creature’s power.

Surely the woman in white wouldn’t allow anything to happen to the family that had taken her in, all unwittingly.

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The creature had a real problem now as it gazed wistfully through the window and watched Jacquelyn play with her toys. Since this thing had never happened to any of its kind before, it had no idea what to do. The spiritual energies it had to consume for food were effectively cut off.

It could sort of leech enough energy from the passing environment to stay alive and not starve, but it was nowhere near adequate, and the creature was starting to be in a state where it was perpetually hungry.

The thing that was really upsetting was this unbreakable bond with the infant his victim had mysteriously transformed into. The creature had found no way to sever the bond unless it were to kill the infant. As soon as that dark and gruesome thought crossed its peabrain, it realized the futility of it all. Due to the bond problem, it was totally unable to kill the infant, and the depth and strength of the bond made it impossible for it to even ask for help in killing her.

It started to rain, and the temperature dropped. Now the creature had another problem, it was wet and freezing besides being extremely hungry. It was totally disgusted when it realized it couldn’t get away from the infant, nor could it approach her or even enter the apartment to get out of the rain. The creature was majorly miserable as the rain slowly turned to sleet and snow. Now, the creature was cold, hungry, and ice was starting to form on its body … it couldn’t be harmed by being cold, but that didn’t mean it was comfortable. It was really unhappy.

Jacquelyn had almost managed to dispel enough of the infant mind to almost just about begin to achieve … a more grown up mind, one that was maybe about 10 or 11 years old, nothing like her former mindset. Jacquelyn realized it wouldn't be too very much longer she wouldn’t be able to have any mindset but that of a three year old infant.

Jacquelyn sucked her thumb as she looked around the playroom. She saw that the snow was coming down heavily outside the window. As much as she tried and moved all around the playroom, holding onto objects so she wouldn’t fall down go boom, she didn’t see any sign of the creature, although, with hate filled eyes, the creature saw Jacquelyn.

All of a sudden, all her hard work on regaining her adult mind vanished in a flash as she discovered her big toe. Her whole universe revolved around this amazingly fascinating discovery. The creature looked through the window at Jacquelyn as she rolled around on the floor and somehow managed to get her big toe in her mouth. It couldn’t see how adorable Jacquelyn was or how cute it was as she tried to learn about her big toe. All the creature could see was a major burden that looked like wouldn’t go away for a great many years to come.

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Jacquelyn had just had her diaper changed, and Mommy had just set her down in the playpen with Samson, when the news came on the TV. Most of the time she paid no attention to it in her infant mindset, but occasionally there was something. “Blah blah blah the Prime Minister announced the suspension of travel rights today in the face of increasing terrorist attacks on blah blah blah …” Something awoke in Jacquelyn’s mind, and she was able to awaken some vestige of her grown up mind again. That sounded wrong. Things weren’t good. Would her family be OK?

As she worried, there was a flicker, and she saw the creature sitting on top of the TV enclosure, leering at her with its glowing yellow eyes. It was as if it had just materialized. She shrieked and pointed at it, making unintelligible but obviously upset noises.

For the monster’s part, it had sneaked into the apartment long ago, slipping in when the door was open. Nobody could see it, and it couldn’t harm anyone no matter how hard it tried, but it could do little things like leave cabinet doors open or turn the TV on and change the channel. And here it had finally managed to get her quarry to tune in her fears. It leapt off the entertainment center and ran toward the playpen as fast as it could. Just one tiny bite, one tiny snack of adult stress, just anything at all … it was so hungry … if it could only just …

Jacquelyn struggled to get away from the creature, kicking herself backward to the rear of the playpen, moving as far from the TV and the approaching monster as she could get. But it scrabbled up the outside of the playpen and hopped inside quickly, lunging at her and open its yawning, tooth-filled mouth at her face, inhaling … Jacquelyn continued shrieking and struggling. Samson was babbling at her, asking what was wrong; he couldn’t see the thing.

Then she found herself lifted out of the playpen. “Oh, poor little one, what’s wrong?” said Mommy. “Your diaper’s fine. Are you hungry? Is that it? Well, don’t worry, supper will be soon.” She rocked Jacquelyn gently until her cries became sniffles and finally calmed into sighs. Mommy carried her around in one arm as she went about the kitchen making supper for herself and Daddy.

The creature made frustrated sounds to itself. Its target was out of reach again, and … yes, there, she couldn’t see it anymore. It would have to try again later. Still, it had gotten just a bit, just a taste. It would survive. For now.

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“I felt your worry and fear earlier today, little one,” the woman in white cooed to Jacquelyn in her dreams that night. “What happened?”

“It was the monser,” said Jacquelyn. “It was there on toppa the TV … just … poof and it was there … and then … it came runnin’ and jumped into the cwib and it was gonna eats me … but Mommy saved me …”

“Oh, poor dear,” the woman in white began to say, but then her image jerked and tore, like the TV when there was a bad connection. “W-wait … what’s going on? Are you … can you still hear me?”

“Uh huh,” Jacquelyn said. “But you looked all weird for a second.”

“That … should not happen,” the woman in white said. “I am wondering whether I’m wrong about what the creature is. It might not come from your fears. But from what you’ve told me … it’s only when you try to think like a big girl that you can see it and it can attack. If you stay a tiny, innocent baby, it can’t harm you. If you worry about things, or remember things that make you afraid, you’re vulnerable. It doesn’t feed on your innocence … it feeds on your negative emotions. Do you understand?”

Jacquelyn nodded. “Can’t help bein’ worried sometimes …”

“Nobody can, Sweetheart,” said the woman. “But try to focus on your family, and how much your Mommy and Daddy love you, and your brother too.”

“But … what if they aren’t …” Jacquelyn began, and the woman’s image started to break up again.

“They’re your real family now, and that can’t be changed,” she told Jacquelyn. “Nothing it can do can change that. You’ve accepted Baby Rules. Now, try to hold on. I’m going to try to find out what the monster is and how we can make it go away for good. We love you, and your family does too. Sweet dreams, Jacquelyn.” She faded away, and Jacquelyn’s dreams went back to being about pure infancy.

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Jacquelyn and Samson were giggling in the playpen as they stacked blocks into a tower. The creature lifted the top of its head just high enough that it could see the two infants over the back of the chair it was behind. Good, its target was facing this way. It so much wanted another taste.

The creature coiled all its muscles and sprang, only to find that not only did Jacquelyn totally ignore it, but some force slapped it away and knocked it completely out of the playpen.

The creature sat up with spots swirling around its head and the sound of birds twittering. It had no clue what had just happened, and it also noticed that Jacquelyn had completely ignored it as if she hadn’t even seen it.

About that time, between the two infants appeared a small black hole in the floor of the playpen. From out of the hole popped a medium-sized fluffy creature. It looked like a mix of squirrel, cat, and ferret, with perhaps a bit of rabbit in the mix. It sat up on its hind legs and wiggled its nose in a cute manner, then amazed both infants when it spoke so that they could understand. “Hi, I’m Digger,” it said “Imma Floppit. Can we bes fwins?” It looked at the two infants and wiggled its nose once again as it seemed to be waiting for a reply.

Gasping, Jacquelyn said, “You. Are. SO CUTE! Yes, I wanna be your fwiens!”

Samson said, “Wow! You are so fluffy and you make me happy! I’m your fwien awweady!”

“Aw! Yay!” said Digger. “You are both super cute babies! Floppits is fwins wif aww babies!”

The monster had just been recovering from its forcible ejection from the playpen when it saw this newcomer arrive. What was this? It wasn’t human, nor was it any kind of animal it had ever seen before. Where had it come from? It was babbling at the infants in the playpen, and they were babbling back as if they understood one another. It approached cautiously to get a better look.

Digger spotted the monster instantly. “Huh. Is that thing wiffa yellow eyes yours?” He looked at Samson, then Jacquelyn.

“Y-yellow eyes?” Jacquelyn replied. Outside the playpen, the creature flickered in and out of visibility as she worried about it.

Samson said, “Oh, yeah. She gotsa boogeyman thing she scareded of. I no scareded of it though.”

“No likes it!” Jacquelyn said, covering her eyes with her fingers. “No wannit!”

Digger frowned directly at the creature. “You no good for babies,” he said. “Go ‘way. Or I bite you. Even better, I gets Faraway ta bite you.”

Another Floppit crawled up out of the hole in the playpen floor. “You say my name?” she said. “Oh wook! Is babies! I wove babies! Hewwo!”

“Oh wook!” said Digger. “Is Faraway! She my fwiend. This Jacquelyn and Samson. New fwiends!” He looked at the monster, which was beginning to look worried. “That one not fwiend.”

“Ooo hi Faraways!” said Samson. “You all fuzzy n cute too!”

“What wrong wif this one?” Faraway asked, looking at Jacquelyn, who was looking worriedly at the monster.

“H-hi …” said Jacquelyn to Faraway with a tone of worry. “N-no like that thing …”

“Well, no worry ‘bout that guy,” said Faraway. “We make him go away if he bother you. Faraway. Is my name after all!”

The monster did not like this at all. It was outnumbered by these fuzzy creatures from elsewhere that could evidently see it at all times. They were about the same size as it was, and could apparently tunnel through space itself somehow. What else could they do? The baby there, she was worried enough to see it, so maybe it could get a nice bite of her anxiety, but it would have to get within biting range itself … it was so tempting …

Like a flash the monster scurried around to the side of the playpen that Jacquelyn was trying to retreat to, away from her brother and the two Floppits. It leapt over the side and approached her, its mouth wide open …

“Hey! Get outta here, you!” said Faraway, nipping the monster on the behind with her teeth. The monster instantly vanished.

“Noooooooo no let it gets meeee …” wailed Jacquelyn. Then she stopped. “Huh?” She opened her eyes. “It gone?”

“Yeah, it gone,” said Digger. “It go bye-bye. Faraway bited it.”

“Where it go?” asked Jacquelyn.

“Dunno,” shrugged Faraway. “Take it a while to get back, though. Is why am called Faraway.”

“Faraway fun to play wif,” said Digger. “She nip me, send me far away, then I gotsa dig to get back.”

“Oops, there is grown ups comin,” said Faraway.

“We be back later!” said Digger, hopping into the hole, followed quickly by Faraway, and then the hole in the playpen floor vanished as if it had never existed.

“Wow, they fun!” said Samson. “Hope they come back soon! You OK, Sis?”

“I … yeah! OK! Hope they come back too!” Jacquelyn giggled. “Floppits is fun!”

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The monster was falling, and it was in excruciating pain, as if part of itself that was far away was ripping, tearing, shredding its insides. It fell and fell … and it splashed into water, deep water, deeper and deeper. It was being pulled through the cold water by a force that it recognized as the force drawing it toward its quarry, its victim. It had been sent far away somehow, into the air, over deep water, and now it was being dragged back, helplessly, through water, but it knew it wouldn’t be long before it was dragged over rough ground, rocks, concrete, whatever. It wasn’t in for a happy time.

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Finally, after a long and grueling drag through some of the most horribly rough and sharp places, the monster slammed into the brick wall of the apartment once again. It basically lay on the ground and watched all the sparkly spots circling its head and listed to the sound of birds twittering.

While it recovered, it started pulling some of the twigs and small branches that had become entangled in its scaly places. It looked into the playroom window and saw the two infants having a plushie fight. As far as any of the monster’s perceptions could tell, there was some sort of … energy? that was mostly keeping it out. Well, not so much out, but not allowing it to interface properly with this realm while within its influence.

The father came out the door, and the monster slipped in. In its stomach was a growling reminder that it hadn’t fed properly in days. Its mouth watered as it watched the infants tussle playfully. Suddenly, one of what looked like a plushie picked up another plushie and dove right into the plushie fight. The two infants accepted the fluffy critter right in, and it too became the target of a thrown plushie that zeroed in perfectly.

Now, in all the many centuries the creature had fed on human energies, not once had its victim transformed into not only an unusable infant all filled with that horrid innocence, but changed genders as well.

In a large greasy poof of something that might have been smoke, a really disgusting creature appeared. “Hgggllfff Huff Huff” came the noises from it as it waddled around and then sat next to the other creature.

The tangled creature said with disgust in its tone, “Well, darn. About time someone came.”

“Forgives me fer takin’ so long. No one ever heerda what ur sayin’. I hadda come looks. I scoured tha whole archive of ages, an’ not one time did it mention ennythin’ like this.”

The other creature whined, “I’m starvin’ an’ I can’t get away. Sompin’ is holdin’ me here likesa bungie or sompins.”

The larger creature rubbed its chin as it thought this over, “Ken tell theresa prollums. Tha esoteric bond ya gots wiffa female infant is shaped likea adult male. How in this realm didja mange to attach it?”

“Cuz, ya blumberin’ idiot, when I firs attached it that infant wasa 18 year old male teenager. Then he getted older, 25, 30, 35, 40, year old … still a mans. I mean sure, he likeda dress up likea baby girl, so what? Humans can dress up likea doggy ora robot, they no turns into a doggy ora robot.”

“Naw, ain’t no kinna ways a humans can turn inta somethin else.”

“Ok, smart tail, tell me how the impossible bond happened then?”

The large creature sat and continued to rub his chin in deep thought. He couldn’t believe what he saw. An esoteric bond that looked like one for a male but made to a female. Not just that, but an infant at that. The mere fact of its inherent innocence meant the bond couldn’t be forged until the infant outgrew its innocence. And yet, there it was. Such bonds were meant to ensure that the human target would be unable to escape its parasite, but now the trap had somehow been reversed, and the captor was now the captive.

There were only two ways out, the larger, more experienced creature thought to itself. Break the bond, or get rid of the child’s protection. The last one was easier.

“Look, all ya gotsa do is wait,” said the larger creature. “Innocence issa thingie that goes away. Justa few years an’ the kid’ll grow up, an’ you can feed on ‘em again. Just gotsa hold on till then.”

“Am gonna starves!” the monster complained. “Now they gots these critters that looks like alive plushies that can sends me way far aways, an’ then tha bond drags me alla way back here! Like what just happended!”

“Hmm, yea,” said the older creature. “Is gonna be hard ta go hungries for that long. Only other way is ta break tha bond. But mosta tha time the only way to break a bond is when tha human dies … so you say this human gotted hisself turneded into a lil baby girl? …”

“Yea! I dunno how! Never seed it afore.”

“Naw, me neither … but … ya knows … inna way tha man you is bonded to … he not there no more. He no exist. He dead. Maybe … issa way for tha bond to get broked.”

“What I gotsa do to make that happens? ‘Cause then I could go find some other human ta feed offs …”

“Lemme looks it up inna books. I gets back to ya.” The older creature scampered off, leaving the smaller creature there to stare hungrily at what it was beginning to see as its former prey.

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“I have an important question for you,” said the woman in white, the next time she visited Jacquelyn in her dreams. “When was the first time you remember feeling embarrassment, worry, shame, or guilt about being the baby girl that you are?”

“I can’t remember ever not feeling shame about being a baby girl,” said Jacquelyn.

“That means … it got into you at a very young age,” the woman said. “These creatures are called Algea. They represent pain, grief, suffering, and other negative emotions. What Persephone and I think is that an Algos crawled into you, sometime when you were very young, and as you grew, it fed upon your suffering, amplifying it so it would have more to feed on.”

“You mean … other people who are really babies at heart don’t always feel guilt and shame about it?” Jacquelyn asked her.

“There are a few who don’t,” she replied, “but many do, even those who aren’t plagued by an Algos. The fact that you were … that just made it much worse for you.”

“Until I was changed,” Jacquelyn mused, “and it was banished. So … the real fantasy that came true was that I was rid of a parasitic monster inside me that I never knew I had. But it still hangs around me. How do I make it go away forever?”

“It forged a mystical bond with you over many years of feeding on your pain,” said the woman in white. “That bond remains. The only good thing about it is that it doesn’t allow the Algos to feed on others. There may be a way to sever it … but if it is cut, the creature will only go on to plague other people …”

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In a large cavern lit by exploding fiery pyroclasts and lava falls, a large and ugly demon sat at a table carved from the blackest ebony. It had called forth the Demonic Eye of Scrying, along with the Mirror of Revelation. It had the Seven Tomes of Therioteuthis before it, and the Amulet of Fiery Wisdom hung around its neck on a chain of dark iron.

As hard as the demon pressed the Mirror to reveal any instance where the esoteric bond between an Algos and its chosen victim had ever been recorded to be in the same impossible state it had just learned of, nothing it revealed was in any way helpful, and the same was true of every other avenue of research the demon had pursued.

No matter what the Mirror attempted to show the demon, in no instance had such a transformation happened. All of the underworld knew that the sort of esoteric bond that an Algos formed with a male could not be formed with a female, or vice versa, just as one could never bind to an infant below the age of corruption.

The demon slapped its huge hand on top of the ebony table as it raged, causing a large spark of fire while he spat angrily from its mouth many curses so vile they would sunder human flesh. It had been given a conundrum that was now seemingly impossible to solve.

In all the many centuries that Algea had been leeching pain and shame from humans, there had never been an instance of the victim changing ages or genders after bonding, and from the best the demon could tell, the only way to break such a bond was to kill either the victim or the Algos parasite.

There was a huge warning in the Tomes about the death of a victim. If the Algos had anything to do with the death of its victim, there would be severe backlashes through the bond guaranteed to render the Algos into elemental particles. Algea couldn’t kill their victims or arrange for them to be killed.

For the first time in its long life, the large demon began to feel fear trickle up and down its spine. It knew it was the keeper of the archives, and it also knew there was no way to record an instance that never happened.

Now, it had to go seek help from the nastiest most vile and evil demon of them all. It was sure some form of punishment would fall on its head, but it also knew this had to be addressed by someone far more powerful than it was.

The demon cleared the Mirror and other items off the ebony table, then placed upon it a bowl of finely carved and glowing iridescent crystal. It began to toss different items into the bowl.

Seemingly from thin air the demon grabbed some type of animal. It quickly cut the beast’s throat, held it over the bowl, and allowed the profuse stream of blood to soak the contents. It tossed the dead animal’s body away with a flick of its wrist, then stood and began the enchantment.

Instantly, the items in the bowl caught fire in a large flash. A dark and vile smelling smoke rose from the bowl and began forming a large round cloud. From the cloud came the most horrid demon one’s worst nightmare could conceive.

The cavern shook and the lava fires dimmed as the huge new demon spoke, “And who is fearless enough to call on me? And why would the Head Archivist actually be the one?”

The Archivist fell to his knees in supplication and described the situation in great fear. “O Wisest of All in Matters Dark and Infernal, I must ask you. For though it is true that it is just one Algos, and frankly a very weak and stupid one at that, this could shake us all to the core. If humans can be changed so as to remain bonded and yet untouchable, might not the flow of dark energy we drain from them be at risk?”

The Wisest frowned, which was barely distinguishable from the expression it had had on its face before this. “It was once known for humans to be able to change form through arts such as sorcery and witchcraft,” it said, “but that was in the Time of Legends, which is long past. No human knows such arts today. They now make toys from metals and lightnings and think themselves masters of their world. No, if a human has changed form, it was done by another, a being of power, one such as us, but not one of us. You said that creatures surrounded the victim, creatures the like of which has never been seen in this world?”

“Yes, O Wise One,” the Archivist said. “You think, then, that this change was wrought by one from a distant world?”

“It must be so,” said the Wisest. “And yet … its goal is not to defeat us and take our place, feeding from the darkest nectar in the souls of humans, for if it were, we would even now be invaded, defending ourselves in total warfare. No, it was not one like us, but one with another goal. The goal to … aid a human.”

“One of the Opposition?” The Archivist looked even more afraid.

“I think not,” said the Wisest. “Though I know not what being aids such humans, I do know that there are those born with a soul whose shape does not match their body. And I know something else: the bond between an Algos and its quarry is not male, or female; this is a false belief that the stupid Algea have chosen to limit their small minds with.”

“Is this so?” asked the Archivist. “I had not thought that even they could so thoroughly delude themselves with their ignorance.”

“It is amusing to watch them scuttle about under such self-imposed burdens,” chuckled the Wisest, “but of true concern here is the victim’s newfound innocence. It has always been known that human innocence can be lost but never regained. And yet today I learn that this is not so. This is greatly disturbing – and yet it is an opportunity to learn.”

“Would it assist you if I were to investigate further, O Great One?” the Archivist asked.

“Yes, and if you did, it would go a long way toward repaying your debt to me for deigning to answer you.”

“Very well. So it shall be done. But what of the matter at hand?”

The Wisest replied, “Yes, this Algos finds itself unable to feed from its victim but also unable to leave her, because of the bond that is the way of Algea. The bond can be broken, with great difficulty; I have only seen it happen a few times in all my millennia of existence, and the Algos is either killed or … worse.”

The Archivist shuddered to think of such a fate.

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Meanwhile, Jacquelyn and Samson were frequently visited during their playtime by various Floppits, creatures of the distant world of Infantus who delighted in meeting babies and playing with them. Floppits each had their own special ability, no two quite the same. Unlike another one called Burrow with a somewhat similar talent, the Floppit named Digger had the ability to cross dimensions, digging tunnels through parallel universes yet always finding his way home. Today they were visited by another one named Tickle, able to tickle babies without even touching them, and Jacquelyn and Samson were in such a constant state of giggles that their diapers were completely soaked.

“My goodness, we have a couple of giggle boxes here, don’t we?” asked Mommy, entering the living room and seeing her babies laughing their little heads off. The Floppits had quickly hidden themselves, vanishing into Digger’s tunnel and pulling it closed. Mommy picked up Jacquelyn. “Goodness, you’re completely soaked, aren’t you, Sweetheart? Let me take care of that, then I’ll bet Samson’s in a similar state.”

As she took Jacquelyn to the changing table in the nursery, more giggles came from the living room – Tickle had peeked through a little crack in dimensions to tickle his feet. And then it was Samson’s turn, and Jacquelyn was again alone in the playpen, though not completely alone. The Algos lurked nearby, unseen by all but the Floppits, who could see it clearly, and as it approached the playpen Tickle used her ability on every single one of its spectral ribs. The creature fell to the floor in a paroxysm of helpless laughter. Jacquelyn thought she heard something but looked behind her but didn’t see anything.

“We gonna hafta do somepin’ ta keeps that silly critter away from tha babies,” said Tickle to the others, hiding in the corridor Digger had dug. “We standin’ guard, but are we gonna do it forever n’ ever?”

“Miss ‘Sephone n’ her helper’s gots a plan,” said Digger. “I knows it. They gonna do somepins. That critter, tho … that one no good, but bigger’n meaner ones could be rounds. Gotsa be careful.”

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Asmodeus, the nastiest and most vile of all demons, sat at a large conjuring table made of the bones of many fallen warriors. He intended to use the most forbidden rituals on his cursed altars of human skulls to enhance his magic and summon several of his favorite powerful undead.

He lit the ritual torches. They flared brightly, gave off what appeared to be an aura of darkness, and smelled horribly of brimstone. He placed upon the altar of bone the skullcap of the mighty warrior Gilga, who had managed to kill two dozen midlevel demons before Asmodeus had arrived and killed him. As a trophy, Asmodeus had taken the warrior’s skull and made a conjuring vessel from it.

Asmodeus carefully cut up many pieces of what appeared to be human body parts and placed a small quantity of each within the bowl. He brought out several large vials filled with glowing viscous liquids that were even more horrible smelling than the candles and poured them into the bowl. Immediately, the darkness of the candles seemed to be swallowed up by the mixture that had begun hard boiling within the conjuring bowl.

He began the intricate motions and vocalized words that would have lain waste to large sections of the earth had they been uttered anywhere but here. The demon hated the fact that he was unable to use that type of magic on the upper world. It was totally forbidden there. But here, there was no such rule.

There were six large puffs of the blackest of what appeared to be smoke, and from it stepped six armored skeletal warriors.

Asmodeus smiled evilly as he pointed to the dead warriors and said in one of those ethereal voices that made everything tremble, “I summoned you six of the most deadly human warriors from the deepest pits of the torment plane of Arralou. As payment for this minor reprieve from your eternal punishment, your task shall be to search out any and all instances of humans spontaneously becoming infants or changing genders. Another task, should you come across this information as you roam the upper world, is to seek out any means by which an Algos’ bond with its victim was able to be formed upon an innocent and any way to break that bond without killing the Algos.”

The six warriors went to their knee and said in unison, “As you have commanded, so shall we seek.” They stood and vanished in that seriously smelly black cloud of smoke.

The demon sat back in his chair and laughed evilly. He knew those six spectral warriors would add to the infernal fire pit before dawn by a large amount. Even if what they sought was not findable, their presence would be well used.

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Each of the six warriors hailed originally from a different age of Earth and had a different specialty, though all shared battle prowess in common. One of them, Keranos, seemingly boiled up from the asphalt in a dark alley of a major city. Turning his skull-like head to watch for his first victim, he stayed in the shadows until he saw him – a lone college student walking unsteadily home from a bar, looking at his phone and not at where he was going.

As the unfortunate student passed the alley entrance, Keranos struck. His blade slashed the student clean in two, then a skeletal hand deftly caught the phone before it hit the pavement. Keranos held the phone in one hand, then raised the other, and tendrils of electricity connected him with the information that the humans of this age used for many purposes. He sought any mention of humans becoming infants or changing genders, by means beyond the ability of mere mortals.

He was deluged by fictional accounts of these things. Witches, wizards, alchemists, gods and goddesses, made-up future science, aliens, alternate realities; such stories abounded in human communication. There were too many of these imaginative accounts to fit into any consistent pattern. Tales of hypnotists mentally turning adults into babies were jumbled with stories of goddesses from the planet Infantus and their Floppit minions.

He was unable to separate true accounts from mere tales. If there were any occurrences of such transformations happening in actuality, Keranos was unable to find them this way. He had failed – for now. He dropped the phone, where its screen shattered on the asphalt next to the bleeding, bisected body of his victim. Then he stepped back into the shadows and seemingly boiled away into black smoke once more.

Behind a hospital in another city, another cloud of black smoke boiled up from the pavement, and standing there was another skeletal figure. This was Haimatos, and he waited in the shadows for what he knew would soon happen. Containers of medical waste were being placed in a special locked container, and when it was full a truck would take it to be destroyed.

But Haimatos simply waited until a hapless hospital employee unlocked the container to deposit more vials and tubs of samples and blood-soaked bandages. He held up a skeletal hand, and the blood from every such object escaped and streamed through the air, orbiting his hand until it was surrounded by a sphere of blood. The employee saw the threads of blood floating into the shadows, followed them until she saw Haimatos’ skeletal face, and screamed. He simply raised his other hand and drained her body of blood in the same way. Her shriveled and desiccated body fell to the ground, pale and dead.

Haimatos magically read everything from the blood and other fluids of every patient who had been treated at this hospital, but also every living human who was a blood relative of any of them. He did not find what he sought this time – but he would try again and again until he did.

It took a while for humans to notice the waves of killings, happening as they did across all the cities of the world, but they did notice. “The head was cut cleanly off, police said, and there were apparently no witnesses even though this took place on a well-lighted path in a public park. This marks the third such victim found in a public area in the past 24 hours. Police are advising citizens to avoid open public spaces at night until more is known.” A Floppit with black and gray fur was watching the TV while her companions played with babies Jacquelyn and Samson in the playpen.

“This no good,” she said. “Gotsa keep a eye out for troubles.”

“Is why Miss ‘Sephone sended you, Watcher,” said Digger. “You tells us if we gotsa hides her.”

“Am watchins,” said Watcher. “Sometimes … too much. Am no likin’ dis.”

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It was midnight. In yet another public park, near a bench by a duck pond, another cloud of black smoke arose to transport Mantis, another of the skeletal wraiths. He bent down near the ground, seemingly inhaling dust. The ducks who normally slept on the shores of the pond had long since awakened and flown elsewhere, sensing something was very wrong. Dirt and dust from the ground flew up and into the holes in Mantis’ skull where there would have been a nose, had he still been alive. He could see what had happened in these places recently.

And here … there had been a grown adult one moment … he had picked up a phone … and the next moment he had been gone. Mantis seemingly inhaled dust from around this area. Over here … there had been a mother with a baby in a single stroller … and the next moment there had been two babies in a double stroller. Sorcery had been practiced here. The man had vanished just as the new baby had appeared. The single baby had been a boy, but after the change, there had been a boy and a girl.

There came a shout of terror. Mantis looked up. A human had seen him and was reeling back in shock. In a flash Mantis’ twin swords met at this mortal’s neck, cleaving his head cleanly off. Mantis departed amid another cloud of black smoke, leaving this headless corpse as he had all the others who had seen him.

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“Wake up,” said the woman in golden light to the dreaming Jacquelyn. “It’s time to go.”

“What do you mean?” asked Jacquelyn. “Go where?”

“The Floppits are protecting you,” she said.

Jacquelyn woke as her body was jostled. Three fuzzy Floppits were carrying her into a hole that had appeared in her crib. She made confused sounds, but then the hole closed above her. She was in the dark, but she felt as if she were underground, not under the crib. Then her eyes started to adjust to the dim light. There were sconces on the walls of this underground burrow containing glowing pods of some sort, and as they emerged from the tunnel into a wider area she gasped to see hundreds of Floppits going about their business, scampering and scurrying hither and thither, playing games with one another, or chattering to each other.

“We inna Floppit house?” asked Jacquelyn.

“Yeah,” Digger said. “Watcher think they finded you.”

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“Whoa, what, what?” said the Algos as three clouds of black smoke arose around him and three of the skeletal warriors stood around him. “I no do nothin’, no kills me, I beens nasty ‘n evil …”

“Your victim is a threat to us all,” said an ethereal voice with no humanity or emotion, emanating from the fleshless skull of Mantis. “We sense it within. It must die.”

“Hey, yeah, that be great, only I can’t do it myselfs … them’s the rules, ya knows …”

“We are aware,” said Mantis. “You are uninvolved. And soon freed to choose another.”

The Algos then realized that something had changed. It felt … torn apart, as if its bond had moved far away again, but not in any single direction. It was being pulled in every direction at once. “Aaaaaaa! Hurts hurts hurts! Aaaaaa”

“The victim has … departed,” Mantis said. “We cannot sense it. Where has the mortal gone?”

“Seek it,” said Pseustes, another of the warriors.

“Seek it,” echoed Keranos. They all boiled away into black smoke, leaving the Algos to writhe in agony on the sidewalk, invisible and inaudible to mortals.

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Jacquelyn and her new brother were having the time of their life playing with all the cute and cuddly Floppits, when she sort of kinda came to a place in her mind that wasn’t infant but wasn’t adult either. She looked around and started sucking her thumb.

Jacquelyn took her thumb from her mouth and babbled, “Is fun ta bes wifs alla use ... but we infinks an Mommy an Daddy gonna be so upset is we no there likes we supposesa bes.”

Digger replied, “I knowsat, Snuggies. Just we gotsa real prollum. Firs ... seems some kinda evil thingy or six is affer use … Secunds … that uver thingy is still there, no can gets ridda it. It gotskies some kinna energy bond wif you that makes it impossible for it to leave moren a few yards.”

Jacquelyn replied, “That thingy no can hurts me. Amma baby an’ knows it. Dunno how ta gets ridda it though, never knew a thingy likesat even exsisted till a little bit ago.” She then burst into loud giggles as Tickle did her special thing.

Tickle said, “No can ‘llows you ta getsa growded up mind.” She shook her head. “You gotsa staya baby for a while.” Then she crossed her upper paws and made a frowning expression towards Jacquelyn before she caused her to begin giggling more – not quite so much that Jacquelyn wet her diaper, but was a very near thing.

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Quite far from the Floppit city, Asmodeus sat on his chair of bone before his conjuring table of skulls. The air was thick with hydrogen sulfide, brimstone, cadaverine, with many strange odors mixed in that had no real description. Needless to say, it stunk. But to him, this was the scent of power.

He had the black lamps of demon essence lit and the large red candles of power. The flames on top of all four lamps as well as the candles seemed to be some sort of specter and looked more as if they danced on top of the wicks than a flame burning.

His skeletal minions had found something. They had even traced it to a source that had mysteriously vanished. From the detailed descriptions the warriors had given, the infant in question must have left this dimension, leaving the Algos behind.

Since it would be unable to be dragged into the portal, as the entrance had been sealed, Asmodeus knew that the Algos was in for a really rough and painful time of starvation – not that he cared what happened to one measly Algos. It would live through it – although it would really want to die.

Asmodeus set his mirror of demonic scrying on his conjuring table of skulls. He picked up a medium-sized flask full of dark reddish purple viscous liquid, pulled the stopper, and poured an amount into the small tray made into the base of the ornate mirror.

Asmodeus said in a voice that made the cavern tremble, “Illuminate and edify me of that which I seek.”

From the tray rose a thick mist, which the face of the mirror seemed to become. Images began to appear within the mist. Asmodeus could see the infant’s playpen. He instructed the mirror to reveal anything it could that might be hidden. Within the playpen, several round, dark places appeared.

As best Asmodeus could deduce, whatever they were, they were now sealed. The only way he had found them was by the residual magical energy left behind when they had been closed. He also remembered being told of those creatures … Floppits, yes, that’s what they were called. Now he wondered if they had caused this.

Now Asmodeus commanded his mirror to show him the Floppits’ home. An image of a world appeared in the mists, but the image was weak, as if it were farther away than the farthest star. The many stars surrounding this planet were totally unfamiliar. He knew immediately that someone else with great power was involved in this, if they could extend their reach so far.

He could expend souls to extend his viewing range. He had many in his fiery pits, some of which had been sent there recently by his skeletal minions. But he disliked losing souls on an investment. At this point his only hope to profit from this endeavor would be if extending the search yielded more souls than it would cost. But the mirror informed Asmodeus that it would be almost impossible for him to reach the planet he saw. Not only was it separated by more light years than the current realm he lived in now was old, but by many dimensional crossings.

Asmodeus waved his hand, and the image in the mirror changed. Now it depicted a handsome man and a beautiful woman cuddled on a sofa watching television. He could even see the program on the screen; it was called Awakening, some sort of science fiction tale about a time after an apocalypse and the slow recovery in its aftermath.

Asmodeus smiled evilly. If he couldn’t directly find the infants, he could attack their parents. It was sure to cause some kind of retaliation … and Asmodeus would get them in his hand and crush them. That would free the Algos and allow it to find another victim and feed. Or he could just let the Algos suffer for a while and free itself. There would be suffering either way, so the decision was difficult. But he decided that the first plan would cause more suffering – and it would have the side benefit of demonstrating what happened when someone interfered with the natural order of things.

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“I just gotsa peek n see if it safes to come back out,” said Digger, scurrying back down the tunnel that they’d come through.

“We gotsa go too,” said another Floppit, and a third one joined in. “Core say we gotsa stay in groups for dis one.” They scampered after Digger.

Digger opened his tunnel just a tiny crack, enough to look through. At the very least, it would be dangerous for the babies’ parents to see that they were gone from the playpen.

What Digger saw, though, was a cloud of oily black smoke boiling up from the carpet. One of the skeletal warriors wearing some kind of ancient armor stepped out of it and strode out of the room. “No,” Digger whispered to the other two Floppits who had joined him by this time. “They’re after the babies’ parents!”

“Lemme through lemme through!” said one of the Floppits, whose name was Brisk. “Gotsa save ‘em fast!” So Digger opened the hole enough to let Brisk through. And there was nothing that could be seen of him after that point but a blur. Brisk was the fastest Floppit on Infantus. But Digger worried. What could he do against … whatever those skeleton things were?

“Come on, we’ve gotta save ‘em!” said the other Floppit, who was Faraway. She nudged Digger forward.

“I dunno … what we gonna do?”

“We plays our game!” Faraway said, pushing him through the opening. “The one we plays when we both onna same team!”

“Ohhhhh!” Digger followed after.

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Selma and David Pulinski were watching TV and snuggling. Their children had been giggling in the other room, but they’d quieted down. Like other evenings, they’d probably giggled themselves out and had fallen asleep in the playpen. David put his arm around Selma’s waist as they lay on the couch.

And then a figure out of a nightmare stepped into the room, some kind of armored undead warrior with a double-bladed staff. Selma shrieked in terror as David struggled to climb over her to protect her.

Then something even stranger happened. A brown and gray blur streaked out of the other room, attacking the nightmare warrior from behind, climbing up its armor and … what was it doing? The warrior was taken by complete surprise and tried to grab at the blur with its skeletal hands, then tried to stab at it with its blade. A piece of the warrior’s armor fell off, exposing its bony shoulder. The blur threw the warrior’s helmet to the ground.

Then two smallish furry creatures appeared from the other room. They were extraordinarily cute but seemed very determined at the moment. Selma and David couldn’t believe what they were seeing. One of them seemed to be digging a hole in their floor, despite the floor being carpet over wood. The other was waiting its turn … until suddenly the warrior fell through the hole, more pieces of its armor clattering to the floor. The blur that had been keeping the warrior occupied hopped to the side and revealed itself to be another of these cute fuzzy animals. And then the third one leapt forward to knock free the one skeletal hand the warrior had been using to hang onto the side of the hole with … and took a good strong bite out of it, falling down the hole with it and disappearing.

Moments later, this third creature climbed back out of the hole. And the one who had dug it seemed to be filling it back in … and now there was no hole anymore, as if it had never been there.

David and Selma blinked at the three cute fuzzy creatures, who blinked back up at them and wiggled their cute noses in a most adorable way. The nightmarish skeleton warrior was gone. These creatures looked far less menacing, but they had gotten rid of a fairly tough-looking character.

“Uh … h-hi?” said Selma.

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Soon everything was explained, with the help of a Floppit named Babble who had the ability to speak every language. “Most of us can only talk to babies,” said Babble. “Sorry if we scared you.” Jacquelyn and Samson were back in their playpen, watching in amazement as the Floppits talked to their parents.

“So … you … who was that skeleton warrior guy, and what happened to him?” asked David.

Babble talked to Brisk, Digger, and Faraway in the Floppit language, then looked back up at David. “We don’t know exactly, but … Faraway says he definitely didn’t come here selling cookies. He was pretty mean. As for where he went, the answer is in Faraway’s name. From the sound of things, Digger opened a hole to another dimension, which he fell into, and then Faraway sent him as far away as she could.”

“How far is that?” Selma asked.

Faraway and Babble talked to each other, then Babble answered, “Faraway says the farthest she could send him, which is about as far away as another star. But also, in another dimension.”

“So we don’t have to worry about him coming back?” David asked.

“Uh, we don’t know what kind of powers he might have,” said Babble. “He might be able to come back. Also, we think there are more than one of those guys. We kind of suggest you might want to get out of here for a while. Fortunately, we’ve got Digger. He can get you to another place really fast.”

“Wait, wait, we’ve got two kids to think of,” said Selma. “Can we pack some …”

A cloud of black smoke began to boil up out of the carpet.

“Uh, we gotta go! Now” said Babble, and the Floppits had all sprung into action. Digger was opening his hole in the floor of the playpen, and Brisk and Faraway were bracing to defend. Jacquelyn and Samson were crawling into the hole already, as if they knew what to do. “Hurry!” urged Babble. “Into the hole!”

David helped Selma over the playpen’s side, where she stepped into the hole and fell in. Another skeletal warrior appeared, this one with different armor and wielding an axe. Faraway bit it immediately on the ankle, and it vanished. But another cloud of black smoke was already appearing. David dropped into the hole too, followed quickly by Babble, and then Faraway, and then Brisk zipped past Digger, who sealed the hole behind him. He didn’t peek to see what was happening.

Jacquelyn babbled to Samson, “Yay, now Mommy and Daddy get to meet tha Floppits! I guess Mommies n Daddies know howta crawl too!”

Samson giggled back. “They like big babies! Wow, but those skellington guys is scawy! Makes me wet my diaper just thinkin’ ‘bouts ‘em!”

Soon they emerged into the larger chamber, where David and Selma were actually able to stand upright. Floppits came out from all the nearby tunnels to stare at them. A large Floppit came forth whose fur was black, streaked with gray. He sat up on his hind legs and looked at the two adult humans with his large, dark eyes. Babble spoke to him.

“This is Core,” said Babble to David and Selma. “He’s the leader of this burrow and the oldest living Floppit. He says that although you are welcome here, there are other places nearby that might be better places for humans like yourself and your children to stay until we figure out how you can go home safely.”

“Do you know who those skeleton guys are and what they want?” asked David. “They’re after us for some reason.”

Core spoke with Babble briefly. “We don’t know much about them, but we know they mean you harm. What we don’t know yet is who sent them and why. But we do know one thing. One of your children has been targeted by a … well, a demon. It’s called an Algos.”

Selma gasped. “No! Not a demon! How do we get rid of it?”

“There are a lot of people, and not just us, trying to figure that out,” said Babble. “This planet … well, it’s called Infantus, and it’s a planet that’s particularly friendly to babies.”

“Planet?” asked David. “We’re … on another planet?”

“Yes, so it’s going to be very hard for those nasty things to find you here,” said Babble. “But you don’t have to worry about being able to take care of your children. They know how to take care of human babies here. Also the babies of a lot of other species – and ages.” When Jacquelyn babbled at him, he replied, “Yes, there are Floppit babies, and yes, we think they are very cute.”

“You – can understand babies when they babble?” asked Selma.

“Well, I can understand any language,” said Babble. “It’s my particular gift. But all Floppits can understand babies. It’s just that most of them can’t talk to adults.”

“What should we do?” asked Selma.

“Just follow Burrow here,” said Babble, gesturing to a white Floppit with black spots. “He’ll show you the way. Don’t worry, I’ll come with you, so I can introduce you.”

Burrow led them to another tunnel, which opened into a huge playroom. Its floor was made of a soft foamlike material decorated in many swirled colors. There were toys all over the room. But one entire wall was a single huge window, and daylight streamed in. They were clearly high up in a tall building overlooking a colorful and futuristic city. In the distance they could see what could only be a starship taking off and flying away into space.

The opening they’d entered through vanished. It was only Jacquelyn, Samson, and their parents, along with Babble the Floppit. “This is a guest room,” said Babble. “You can make yourself at home. There are other rooms through the doors.” And the room did have doors – one wall was the giant window, but the other three had several doorways and closed doors.

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David and Selma were totally mind blown that they were on another planet. They moved a large comfy sofa over to a good viewing spot in front of the large window, picked up the babies, and made themselves comfy as they watched the amazing and strange things amble or float slowly by.

Selma had undone her top and lowered the flap on her bra. She had started breast feeding Jacquelyn while David kept Samson busy with tactically placed tickles.

Way down on the ground, David and Selma saw a group of strange looking pink things floating close to the ground that slowly wandered over to a group of young mothers and their infants. They watched as the young women each placed their babies into the pink cloud looking thing and started walking off. The little cloud followed them like a faithful pet all the while keeping the infant safe within itself.

David said to Selma, “Darn, it appears they have strollers for the children here that are alive … at least they seem like it.”

Selma replied, “We have several of them stored in one of the rooms. I looked in one of the others. I couldn’t believe it, but it was called a Holo-Playpen. Not sure how it all works, but almost anything I could think of, the room could instantly create. It felt ... solid and real too.”

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Many trillions of light years and over a dozen dimensions away, Asmodeus sat on his throne of bone and listened to the many lesser demons and minions as they voiced severe concerns and fears over what had happened to an Algos.

The many voices of the large crowd of lesser demons and their familiars had become an almost hysterical roar. Asmodeus sat and listened until he had had enough.

Asmodeus stood and slammed his fist against the table in front of his throne creating a huge explosion of pyrotechnics and a cavern-trembling boom. “ENOUGH,” his voice boomed in that ethereal way. “I am more than aware of the problem. Something all you smart tails who think they know it all need to understand right now … I’m in charge. I’m the leader. I have some of the very best searching for a solution. Nothing like this has ever happened in all the millennia, nor is there any viable solution. The only way to solve the issue, is kill one or both.”

Or, of course, have incompetent minions who allow the quarry to jump through a portal to another sliver of reality altogether and let the Algos suffer through having its bond pulled out of it, which was supposedly quite unpleasant and protracted. But Asmodeus wasn’t about to talk about that.

Several voices rose above the tumultuous den, “What about the rest of us? We can’t have our prey changing ages and sexes like that … it ... just can’t.”

Asmodeus put his face in his hands as he sighed loudly, “I’m very well aware of that too.” He gestured above his communication bowl. “I suppose it’s too much to assume that you have any good news?”

The face of the Wisest appeared amid the noxious vapors. “Sire! It is indeed an honor.”

“Get on with it,” said Asmodeus. “Or in your great wisdom have you forgotten my most recent orders?”

“Of course not, Sire,” the Wisest said. “I have taken the liberty of collecting the Algos in question for observation. It appears to be suffering in great pain.” The assembled demons overheard this and gasped. They didn’t like pain – that is, they didn’t like being the ones suffering it. They greatly enjoyed inflicting it, naturally, and they weren’t above feeling schadenfreude when watching another suffering, but this hit a bit too close to home. It could all too easily be happening to them.

“The good news is, however,” the Wisest continued, “that it is lessening with time. At this rate I estimate the bond will be broken in only two more months.”

“MONTHS? Aaaagggghghhhh …” Asmodeus could overhear the Algos shrieking in the background.

Asmodeus could tell that the assembled demons had overheard this as well. They didn’t like this idea. Months of suffering wasn’t even a demon’s idea of a good time, unless it was someone else’s suffering. So the options were for their victim to die – which they couldn’t even be peripherally involved in – or for them to die themselves, which was a one-way trip to oblivion, or for them to suffer months of excruciating agony. Their array of choices had expanded to three, and still none of them were good.

“So,” asked Asmodeus, “what happens when the bond is broken? Can they form a new one?”

“That has never been tested, Sire,” said the Wisest. “Perhaps we will find out. Meanwhile, the Archivist has found a very old text, inscribed in Ancient Abyssian on the bones of prehistoric humans, mentioning a demon forming a new bond – nothing unusual there, if the first victim dies, but this text then mentions things that its first victim does afterwards, suggesting that the first one was still alive. The Archivist is now looking for more records that date back to the same time period, but they are notoriously difficult to find. Sire, weren’t you around in those times?”

“Of course I was,” snapped Asmodeus, “but those were the times of the Reunification of the Hegemony of Thuldrax. You know that. I was busy.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” said the Wisest.

“There wouldn’t happen to be a … fourth option?” asked one of the demons listening. She was a Succubus, and her name was Malevia.

“Shut up!” said Asmodeus and the Wisest in unison.

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The door to the hallway opened, and a woman in white entered. Selma and David turned to greet her. By now both babies had had their milk and were napping in a very soft crib. “Oh – hello,” said Selma.

“Ah, welcome to Infantus!” she said. Jacquelyn gently woke up and saw her from the crib. “Ah, there’s Jacquelyn,” she said. “She knows me already. I’ve been trying to help her, but you’re from so far away that I’ve only been able to talk to her in dreams.”

“Help her?” Selma asked. “Do you know anything about those terrible creatures who attacked us? Or these adorable creatures who saved us – I guess they’re called Floppits?” A few Floppits were around, some sleeping, some calmly lounging about, trying not to wake the babies.

“Yes,” she said. “My name is Adrasteia, and I’m here to help – helping Persephone, and helping babies who are in danger. And yes, those creatures were, according to what I gather, undead summoned by demons.”

“Demons?” asked David. “What would demons want with our kids?”

“It’s very complicated,” said Adrasteia, “but let me put it as simply as I can. Jacquelyn was a victim of a demon in a past life. It formed a bond with her soul, and that bond remains, even now. It wants her to feel negative emotions – shame, grief, fear, suffering – because that’s how it feeds.”

“That’s terrible!” said Selma, going to the crib and picking Jacquelyn up, holding her protectively.

“Demons are basically the definition of terrible,” said Adrasteia. “Now, she’s a strong girl, and she has all of you. Even Samson helps her.”

David asked, “This bond – is there a way to break it? Maybe some kind of exorcism?”

“If there are rituals, they would have to be rituals from your world,” replied Adrasteia. “The demons are of your world, and they have probably done everything they can to make sure those rituals are forgotten, since they’re part of your world’s mystical heritage. It’s possible that keeping her here will eventually sever the bond, but I’m not sure how long it will take. But it’s clearly not safe for you there, so you’re all welcome to stay here for as long as you need to.”

Jacquelyn babbled, “It is soooo nice here! So many toys, and it’s bright and shiny, and there are Floppits, and they don’t have to hide from Mommy and Daddy!” But of course the only people who could understand her were Samson, who was asleep, the Floppits, and …

“That’s right, Sweetheart, this is a place that is especially nice for babies,” Adrasteia replied. To the parents she explained, “Yes, I can understand babies too.”

“Sometimes I remember … a pink phone, and a pretty voice, asking me about Baby Rules,” said Jacquelyn.

“Oh, yes, that is one of the only ways Persephone can reach your world, since it’s so far away,” explained Adrasteia. “She can send her helpers in dreams, like me, some of the Floppits have abilities that can get them there, and she can send long-distance ways to speak, but mostly only to ask her question.”

“Too bad she didn’t ask the monster,” Jacquelyn said.

“The … demon?” asked Adrasteia, never having thought of this before. “But … demons are the never-born, the never-young … innocence is a foreign land to them … I will have to talk to Persephone about that idea.”

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In a place beyond the fantasies of mortal minds, several young women in skimpy bikini bathing suits were tussling over a ball in a crystal clear pool. The pool seemed to be made of polished white marble and was surrounded by several gazebos and a scattering of lounges.

Growing nearby, a beautiful apple tree filled with glowing golden apples provided shade and the perfect roost for several Doves of Paradise to sit and sing their mystical magical songs.

Persephone, Diahanna, Aphrodite, and Ishtar splashed and tossed the ball all around. After a bit, Persephone got out of the pool and went to one of the lounges beneath the Apple Tree and sat. She poured a large flagon of Ambrosia and started daintily sipping it when a hole in front of her opened and out popped a Floppit.

Persephone smiled as she said softly, “Digger, welcome to Etherium.” She reached over and picked up the snuggly critter and brought him to her lap as she began scratching him behind his ears. “And what brings you here on this beautiful day?”

Digger had a hard time answering due to the many tickles in his ribs Persephone was giving him. Amid the many giggles he replied, “We gotsa prollums wiffa parasite demon. Is calleda … Algos? It gots stuck toa infink when tha infink accepted Baby Rules.”

Persephone replied, “So? It made the mistake of attaching itself to one of mine, a mortal with the soul of an infant. It knew that core of indelible innocence was there, rendering the mortal immune to ultimate corruption. And then she accepted Baby Rules, which any Algos should have known was a possibility for such a mortal, leaving my darling baby immune to its feeding, unless the creature were to awaken glimmerings of negative adult emotions to feed from … was it frightening her? Because if it was …”

“No,” said Digger, “it pwetty much stuckeded to walls an’ stuffs.”

“Well, then. The only issue would be to the parasite, since it would be unable to break the bond, and the fact an infant is innocent would render it unable to feed until the infant grew up again, which, in this case, happens only when she is ready …”

Digger interrupted, “Yesm is so .. but … they sended other demonic critters. Was gonna hurtem an’ their family. So we brung tha whole family here for protection. This lefta parasite bound and mostly bein’ ripped apart inside out cuz tha bond cannot bring it through a sealed tunnel.”

Persephone replied, “I see, so it is more than likely in mortal agony with no relief, at least until the bond finally snaps.”

Digger sat up, wiggled his nose, and replied, “Yuppers, an’ if it offereded tha question … would tha bond at that point get brokteded?”

Persephone looked thoughtful as a flash of golden light left her completely changed into her white sheer dress outlined in gold and cinched at her shapely waist by a golden belt. “Interesting,” she said. “I technically am under no obligation to rescue a creature of darkness. However, one of mine and her family have been threatened – a message must be sent. And I’ve never attempted to make an infant of something that was never an infant before. If it works, I have a new weapon to use against the forces of darkness. But how to contact a creature in the infernal realm of a world across the universes?”

“I dunno …” said Digger.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, my dear,” she said, scratching Digger behind the ears again. “I’ll have my staff look into it.”

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The Algos lay on a stone slab in one of the infernal laboratories of the Wisest, writhing in agony. As was the nature of pain, there was no way to ignore it or move beyond it. Occasionally some demonic minions would come and poke it with one testing instrument or another, but it barely noticed. At the moment, there was no one in the lab. The Algos wasn’t restrained or confined – where would it go? The pain would follow it everywhere.

That was when what looked like a demonic missive appeared. These black-edged scrolls, sealed with blood-red wax, were how demons sent mail, when they did so at all. Usually they were bad news – it meant you’d displeased someone in authority. Usually it wasn’t from Asmodeus himself, because he could just vaporize you from long distance, but those of lesser power sent a missive when they wanted to summon you before them, so they could chew you out for whatever you did.

Except this one was edged in strawberry pink and had a pastel pink seal, with an emblem the Algos didn’t recognize. But there it was, floating in the air, waiting. They did that until you opened them. It really didn’t pay to ignore the things. Maybe it was from a Succubus, with all the pink – maybe even Malevia. She was a hot one. But she wouldn’t stoop to notice a lowly Algos. Would she? …

It must be noted that these thoughts were going on at a low level while the Algos continued to writhe in pain. Barely able to control its grubby, clawed fingers, it reached up toward the levitating missive and cracked the wax seal open.

The letters were inscribed in strawberry pink ink, and there was no need for the Algos to read them, because it heard a voice in its mind reading them. “Greetings,” said the voice, which had an ethereal beauty that no demon’s voice could match. “It has come to my attention that you are in great distress. I offer you a way out of it. But since your victim was one of mine, you must also become one of mine in a way. Your problem is that you cannot feed from an infant and that you did not heed the warning that the adult you attached your bond to was an infant at heart, so this was bound to happen eventually. You can wait until the bond snaps, and who knows how long that will take … or you can take this offer. Do you accept Baby Rules? If you do, make your mark below. Signed, Persephone, Goddess of Infants, Bringer of Innocence, Protector of Babies, etc., etc.”

There was a quill pen rolled up in the scroll. The Algos continued to squirm and writhe in truly indescribable agony as it considered. It didn’t know what was going to happen, but whatever it was, could it be worse than this?

It didn’t take long for the Algos to decide. It reached for the pen, which hovered in the air next to the open scroll. It maneuvered the pen over the scroll with a terribly wavering hand, and scrawled something illegible in the same strawberry pink ink. And the scroll and pen vanished – along with the pain.

At the same moment, a mysterious transformation occurred. The Algos shrank dramatically in size, changing form all the while. Its gnarled brown claws grew blunter, chubbier, and became little reddish-beige baby fingers. Its angular face grew rounder and became a baby moon face. Instead of a mouthful of fangs, it had just one pointed tooth that stuck out over its lower lip. From somewhere it acquired a diaper. And as it tried to complain, a string of unintelligible babble came out in a tiny little voice. It slapped its hands over its mouth. It had become a little reddish-tan demon baby.

“Time to observe your misfortune yet again, Algos,” said the voice of the Wisest, entering the laboratory with a number of assistants. “Randus, get your scraper ready – wait, what is this?” He saw the baby Algos and approached cautiously. “What are you?”

The Algos replied in the same unintelligible babble.

“Oh, this will not do at all,” said the Wisest, crossing the laboratory to the cloud of evil-smelling smoke, where he addressed his boss. “Asmodeus, there has been a truly revolting development.”

The face of the Father of Lies filled the smoke ring. “What is it?”

“The Algos has undergone an unexpected … transformation,” the Wisest said. “Argyros, bring it here. Do not touch it directly. Use the cart. As you can see, Lord, it has changed into a … small and round version of its former self. I do not know what this means. It appears to be infected with … innocence.”

“Ugh,” said Asmodeus. “But … is it still bound to the mortal?”

Some of the minions had been testing for that, and they nodded when the Wisest looked at them. “It seems so, but the bond has increased greatly in its elasticity …”

“Do you mean that it can collect evil from … anywhere now?” asked the Lord of Demons.

“No way to know yet, Sire,” replied the Wisest. “We will simply have to wait until something happens.”

“Well, we cannot have an infant demon plagued with innocence wandering about,” said Asmodeus. “What if it infected others? Set aside Hall 436-M for it. Put it there. Set a Succubus to look after it. I believe Malevia is free. She was certainly free enough to come to me and air her grievances earlier.”

“As you wish, Milord,” said the Wisest. He turned to his minions. “Well, you heard His Vileness, make it happen!” They scurried to obey their orders, wheeling the baby Algos on a black metal cart with spiky wheels out of the lab and down the cavernous hallway outside. “I will attempt to discover how this happened,” he told Asmodeus.

“Do not rest until you do,” said Asmodeus, the image of his face vanishing amid the vile vapors.

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On Infantus, Digger had returned to tell the others what had happened. Babble said, “It seems Digger told Miss Persephone about your predicament. She’s apparently taken steps. This has never happened before, but we all trust her. If she can’t clear up the situation so you can go home, you are welcome to stay here.”

“I do miss home,” said Selma. “It’s beautiful here, but …”

“I understand,” said Digger. “Home is best.”

Just then Jacquelyn started to cry. She was unhappy. Her tummy felt funny, then she felt very weird but also good, but now … there was something in her diaper, and she didn’t like it. She was wailing away. It felt very natural to cry like this, now that she was a baby. At least she was letting her feelings out.

“Oh dear,” said David. “I think it’s her diaper.” He picked her up. “I’ll get her to the changing room.”

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“What’s this?” said the Wisest, examining the instruments outside Hall 436-M. The arrows were moving on the dials, and the rotating number wheels were turning over. “The Algos is … collecting evil. But it can’t be. It’s nowhere near its prey. Unless its prey has returned to this world?” He looked at one of his minions.

“No such thing has been reported, Sir,” said the terrified-looking lesser demon.

“Can it be that it now has the ability to collect on its bond … from anywhere?” mused the Wisest. “But what sort of evil can it be collecting?” It examined the readings. “Helplessness … unfairness … discomfort … low-level evils to be sure, but there they are.”

It heard a noise coming from inside the cavern. “Malevia, what is going on in there?” shouted the Wisest. “I can’t think with all this racket.”

“Shhh, shhh, shut up or I’ll spank you good,” said Malevia, picking up the infant Algos as if she couldn’t tell which end was up. “I think it’s its diaper.”

“Well, change it or whatever, anything to make it shut up,” called the Wisest from outside the cavern.

“Ugh, fine, just be sure to keep sending more diapers and carting the used ones away,” Malevia said. “So disgusting.”

“We’ll keep sending in supplies as long as you keep doing your job,” said the Wisest.

A messenger imp fluttered up. “Message for Wisest,” it said, handing him a scroll.

“Ah, from the Archivist,” he said, opening it up and reading it. “Hmm, hmm. Interesting.”

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The scroll went into detail about the wedding of Aries, the god of war, and Aphrodite, goddess of love and their 2 children, Eros, and Persephone. The Wisest’s eyebrows rose as he read that Persephone was known as the goddess of infants and babies.

He read on about the planet she had chosen and taken possession of and how she had defended it from an aggressive species ignorance. The more he read, the more he began to realize this had to be the anomaly. The thing that truly amazed the Wisest was how great the distance in space was, not to mention an even greater interdimensional separation, and yet this individual still had the ability to affect this realm.

As far as any really helpful data went, the scroll basically appeared to tell mostly of peripheral details and left great gaps in other places. The one item that the Wisest did manage to glean from the scroll was Persephone’s unique power.

A shiver of fear ran down his back. She had the ability to return an individual to a state of infantile innocence – although it was easier with those who already had a spark of innocence left within them, especially if they consented, she could supposedly do this to anyone. He looked through the opening into what they had made into a makeshift nursery. It amazed him to see an infant Algos.

This woman was dangerous, he thought to himself. She had the ability to bring ruin to all of the dark realms. He had no real information on what type of bond or connection existed now that the Algos had become an infant, since there had never been an infant Algos before. But there was still evil coming through. There was still a bond of some kind.

The Wisest went to the Archivist’s portal and requested any information that might pertain to Persephone. What he got were many scrolls telling of a wondrous world known as Infantus. He had already heard of the encounters with the Floppits. It concerned him greatly that each of those critters had a unique power and was well able to use it. Another thing the Wisest discovered was that Floppits could talk to infants in their own language.

The Wisest was becoming more and more agitated. It was extremely hard for him to be this close to innocence. It almost hurt. He could feel something like icy hot/cold waves as they washed through the evil domain. Innocence and evil corruption were obviously not compatible.

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In another reality an unbelievably great distance away, Samson and his sister Jacquelyn sat in the playpen and gleefully played patty cakes with the Floppits, not to mention all the cuddles and tickles. It made David’s heart sing as he watched his children having the time of their life playing with what looked more like a living plushie doll than a living creature.

David was still slightly mind blown to actually be on another planet among creatures not from Earth. He shrugged as he also remembered all the times he had wished on falling stars that he could go to another world and explore. Now, here he was, doing exactly that. But he also missed his home, his friends, and his own family. He knew his wife felt the same.

There was a crying from the nursery – “Uh-oh,” said David. “I’ll bet Jacquelyn needs a new diaper.”

“I’ll get her this time,” said Selma. “Your turn next time.” She got up to take care of her daughter.

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As uncomfortable as the Wisest was coming so close to innocence, the Succubus named Malevia was having to come even closer. She had to change the Algos brat’s disgusting diapers. What was it even eating? The Algea fed on fear, despair, grief, and other negative human emotions.

She heard voices outside the nursery cavern and looked out. She ducked back inside to look more discreetly when she saw that Asmodeus himself had come. He was speaking quietly to the Wisest. “... Not sure there is anything we can do, Sire,” she heard the Wisest say.

“... likely to happen again, and there seems no way to …” Asmodeus told him. Malevia couldn’t hear it all. This didn’t sound good. Was she going to have to take care of this thing forever? Were there going to be more of them?

They came closer, and Malevia stepped further inside so it didn’t look as if she’d been eavesdropping. Then Asmodeus entered the cavern.

He made a face. “Ugh. The innocence. It reeks,” he said. But he turned toward the Succubus. “Ah, Malevia. You are doing well. There is still a fell energy coming to us through this strange infant Algos. I have a proposition for you.”

“For … for me, Your Vileness?” asked Malevia.

“On the one hand, I propose that you be stationed here to care for this Algos, and the others who will doubtless be afflicted with this as time goes by,” said Asmodeus.

Malevia’s heart, such as it was, sunk. “I … see.”

“But on the other, I offer to empower you,” he told her. “You will no longer be a Succubus. You will be another type of demon, one that has never existed before. A Nurse Demon. You will be the first to care for the Infernal Infants.”

“You … really think there will be more of them, Sire?” Malevia asked.

Asmodeus nodded gravely, his horns looking heavy upon his head. “The Wisest believes that if one can come to be, then sooner or later, more will as well. I tend to agree with this. We will attempt to avoid the powers of this distant goddess of infants. But one cannot avoid one so powerful forever, especially one so dim-witted as an Algos. There will certainly be further … incidents from time to time, no matter how much we caution them to stay clear of the warning signs. And therefore we will need … Nurse Demons.”

“There will be more, Sire?”

“There will one day have to be,” he said. “And as the first of them, you will be their leader. You would have seniority, of course.”

“I see,” said Malevia. She understood. As distasteful as it was … she would be in charge of a new division. “Then I agree,” she said, “on the condition that the empowerment you offer will be such as to make me better suited for this new duty. A Succubus is really not cut out for this.”

“It is settled, then!” said Asmodeus with a booming but ethereal voice. He pointed his great gnarled staff of office at her, with the horned skull at its top. The eye sockets of the skull burned with a radiant fire, and that fire reached out and surrounded her.

Malevia was engulfed in the flames of power, but it did not burn her. It instead inflamed her very inner being and became part of her. The body of a demon was changeable, an expression of their inner essence, and since Malevia’s essence was now changing, her appearance changed with it …

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When the flames finally flickered out, Malevia felt different. She held out her arms and looked down. Her outfit had changed to an almost transparent sheer black gown that showed off her new shape leaving nothing to the imagination.

She knew she was a different kind of creature, all the almost maddening urge to leech a soul had passed and transformed into something different. She heard a small noise and turned towards it. There in front of her was a real live infant. Instantly something within her melted as an emotion she had never felt surged through her.

Malevia dashed over and lovingly picked up the infant Algos and checked its diaper before she twirled around “Wheeeeee !!!”

Of course the infant Algos reacted like any infant under those conditions and screeched for sheer joy.

Asmodeus had backed off a short distance so the infantile innocence wasn't such a stink, and observed the new Demon-Nana as she took charge of her new ward and assumed those duties. He was satisfied at what Malevia had transformed into, but in no wise was he happy in any way about this new thing. No one had ever heard of an infant Algos in all the many centuries.

A small tingle of something Asmodeus was unfamiliar with crept up his spine. In all the unfolding eternity he had ruled thus far, never had the dark realms ever discovered an ability to return to innocence once it had been lost.

Now, he knew of one such being that could do it, a being whom he knew beyond any doubt was far and away more powerful than he. Asmodeus’ thoughts turned dark as he contemplated war. He knew his minions would jump at the chance; they lived to hack and rend flesh.

A big issue were the totally unknowns: what forms and aspects did the return to innocence take? Once it had happened, could the effect be reversed and the affected returned to their original state of being? He now began to contemplate the impact of that many infants coming into the dark realm. The propagating waves of pure innocence would surely wreak hell on all the items constructed from corruption and evil. Those items were important too.

A small annoyingly sweet voice whispered to Asmodeus in a way he had no choice but to hear, “You need to also contemplate how you would feel going helplessly in your diaper. Think not lightly on war against this foe. You know not who she is, nor her lineage.”

Asmodeus felt it as the small demon sprite left to search out other wisdom to share. He hoped upon hope the small demon sprite could find a cure. It well knew, as did all the other demons who knew of the infant Algos, that this could undo all they had worked for since the dawn of all time.

“Wisest,” he said, seeking out his advisor, “what do you think of this? Does this mean war?”

The Wisest had been watching the scene from a distance. “Maybe, Sire. But, on the other hand, how did this begin? One foolish Algos latched onto a mortal who still had a grain of childish innocence in his soul despite having grown up. That Algos should have noticed, and should have picked another victim. But it didn’t, and now we have this.”

Asmodeus replied, “So this is all a reaction to what the Algos did. You think there won’t be more repercussions?”

“I haven’t seen any sign of more, Sire,” said the Wisest. “But I have minions checking on every Algos on the surface world, with an eye toward whether their hosts have that telltale spark.”

“And what do we do with the ones who did pick a target who might be claimed by this … force for innocence?” Asmodeus asked.

“Three possibilities, really,” the Wisest said. “Kill the mortal – and the one responsible for this would probably take offense at that. Or kill the Algos – pretty easy, really, and another Algos would just reform eventually anyway. Or … this happens again, and we get another infant Algos in our nursery.”

“I don’t like any of those choices,” said Asmodeus.

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Meanwhile, on the surface of the world, a strawberry pink phone appeared next to a sleeping mortal … and a tiny demonic sprite seized it and vanished.

“Nghhhhh” said the sprite, struggling with the phone, which was the size of a large and heavy suitcase to the tiny demon. “Urnngggh … Sire … I have … brought you this …”

Asmodeus saw the tiny demon sprite carrying the overly large object. “And what is this that you have brought me?” he asked, holding out his hand.

“One moment it was not there, the next it was,” said the sprite. “It comes from somewhere else!”

“Hmm,” Asmodeus said, opening it up.

“Do you accept Baby Rules, Sweet – wait, who is this?” said a beautiful and decidedly non-infernal voice.

“I most certainly do not,” Asmodeus said. “Whom, exactly, might I be addressing?”

“You are the one troubling me and mine,” said the voice. “I did not start this, but I will protect them.”

“Oh, very well,” Asmodeus said tiredly. “What do you want?”

“Every one of your little minions who latches onto one of mine will join the first in your nursery,” said the voice. “I suggest you prevent that from happening. Although they still deliver power to you, you may not like the flavor.”

“It is not to my liking, no,” Asmodeus replied. “But we were already taking steps to prevent Algea from victimizing those with the spark of innocence remaining in their hearts. What do you want?”

The voice replied, “Simply do not take what does not belong to you, and do not trouble me and mine, and we will get along fine. There need not be conflict.”

Asmodeus frowned. “This means retraining – or in some cases … simply training. These are Algea we’re talking about.”

“Let me speak plainly,” said the voice. “There is one whose family you have already sent forces of the undead to menace. They are under my protection, but they wish to return home. Do not trouble them further.”

“And those are your terms?” Asmodeus asked. “Those mortals whom you consider yours, and their families, will not be touched, by Algea or any of my other minions?”

“They are mine,” the voice said. “Touch them and there will be trouble. Do not, and I will not interfere with you.”

“Then so let it be,” Asmodeus said, with a bored tone in his voice. “I tire of this entire matter. If there are Algea already feeding from yours, do as you wish, make them infant Algea; we will have more in the nursery. We will instruct each Algos to avoid mortals you claim. If they do not … let it be on their heads. Or behinds.”

“You see?” asked the voice. “We are already working together.”

“Ugh,” said Asmodeus. “I wish and hope never to speak with you again.”

The phone suddenly vanished in a puff of strawberry pink sparkles. Asmodeus recoiled in revulsion.

“Sire,” said the Wisest, “I believe we may be dealing with the daughter of Ares.” He showed Asmodeus an ancient text, handwritten on yellowed parchment and unearthed by the Archivist.

“God of War?” Asmodeus asked with concern. “We do not wish to go to war against one such as she. Have the Algea instructed. Show them the infant. Inform them of the consequences. Make this stop.”

“I will inform the others, Sire,” said the Wisest and departed.

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Asmodeus was not happy to have been forced to take a proposition he couldn’t refuse. To add double insult to his severely injured pride, he had to make a deal with what appeared to be a major force of light, concede ground, and it had to happen in front of his minions. He shook his head slowly; now there would be a century or so of challenges.

He sat back on his throne of bone and rubbed his chin slowly in thought. An evil grin came to his fanged mouth as a thought occurred to him. Several of the Trials of Succession could be used to rid him of the upstarts who thought they might be contenders. Since the transformation of Malevia from a succubus into a brand new creature, a Nana Demon, Asmodeus was sure she would be overjoyed if there were more infants for her to care for.

A devious plan formed in his mind as he took out the magic parchment he had just made the agreement on, and began to read over it slowly. He knew there were loopholes, he remembered. Now he was going to use this very agreement to further his own plans.

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The Archivist couldn't believe what it was he held in his hand. An actual signed and sealed magically binding pact between his infernal Highness and the actual daughter of Ares, the god of war. This document not only was one of a kind in the entire almost infinite library of evil, it was also the first time such a pact had been written between a denizen of light – if indeed she was a being of light – and a denizen of darkness.

The Archivist knew who the other party was as well, it was none other than Persephone, the daughter of Ares. A small shudder of fear ran up and down his spine as he thought of the stupidity of Asmodeus even suggesting going to war. He had to admit, however, the next orders he had gotten might even be fun.

It was easy for the Archivist to locate humans who had grown up, but still had a place within them that was an infant. Most intelligent demons could tell the difference between such mortals and humans who were not this way. He grinned. Algea were so stupid. Of the millions of them that existed, he could tell that many hundreds of them had made bonds with these types of mortals. This new agreement gave Persephone carte blanche on how to deal with it, too.

Now the Archivist understood why Asmodeus had made the addendum to the rules of the Trials of Succession, the process whereby low-level demons could challenge others to rise in rank. What it basically accomplished was the creation of many new demon infants, but the other side of that coin was that whoever the challenger was, Persephone would be the one personally dealing with them, leaving Asmodeus out of it and seeming innocent. Damn … he was smart. It removed anyone stupid enough to be a contender, but also made it appear that Asmodeus had no part in any of it.

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“I have good news for you!” said Babble the Floppit, talking to Jacquelyn and Samson first, because they were babies, and Floppits liked babies best. He was talking in baby babbles, though, so their parents couldn’t understand. He’d have to tell them separately.

“Oooo issa new flavor of ice cweam?” Jacquelyn asked, bouncing up and down.

Samson giggled. “Maby issa new cartoon we can look at!”

“No, but those are good things!” Babble said. “You can go home!”

“No more monsers there?” Jacquelyn asked.

“They won’t bother you anymore,” said Babble. “Miss Persephone made some kind of deal with the head demon. It means the monster that’s bound to you has turned into a baby demon now and has to stay in the demon nursery. Instead of powering the infernals with bad grown-up emotions like shame, worry, and grief, instead it’s sending them simpler bad emotions like fear of the unknown, or the discomfort of a messy diaper.”

“Ooo,” said Jacquelyn, “like when baby ‘fraida tha potty monser.”

“Exactly,” Babble said. “I’m not sure how it really all works for demons, but I think there’s never been a baby demon before.”

Jacquelyn asked, “There only onna them?”

“It sounds like there will be more,” said Babble. “There are other people who are adults in body but babies in spirit. There are silly demons who connected themselves to those people. And Miss Persephone gets to turn those demons into babies too.”

“Oooo, more baby monsers,” said Jacquelyn. “Somebody gotsa change their dipees.” She giggled.

“I guess so,” said Babble. “But because of this you get to go home.”

“Yay!” said Jacquelyn. “I like tha soft clouds we can ride in … but I miss walks inna park back home. But … this mean we no play wif Floppits no mores?”

“Oh, I think Digger will still come visit you,” said Babble. “He likes you. And that means others will too.”

Jacquelyn giggled. “Yay! I wanna play wifs Tickle more. She silly.”

“I’ll go tell your parents now,” Babble said. “It’ll probably be harder to explain it to them.”

Samson nodded. “Yeah. Babies is smarter.”

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Ballachior, Baron of the Brimstone Reaches, stood cloaked in his infernal darkness as his newest victim slowly approached, totally oblivious to the critical danger he was in. The rules of succession were clear, and Ballachior intended to rule. This victim had that special spark the succession protocol required. He stepped from the shadows into the path of the young man.

He said in one of those ethereal voices, “Good evening, young man.”

The youth looked up from his cell indifferently until his eyes landed on the demon. Instantly his expression changed to one of severe dread and massive fear. The youth turned and began to run surprisingly fast.

The demon disappeared from where he had been standing in a cloud of inky black smoke, then appeared directly in front of the frantic youth. This happened so fast the young man ran into Ballachior’s open arms.

Ballachior held the struggling youth and laughed one of those laughs, “Life as you knew it is …”

Without warning, something impossible happened. Ballachior’s mind was invaded by some sort of thought-impeding haze and became confused as everything grew larger around him. His armor and other items fell into a huge heap swallowing him. He could hear the youth’s dimming screams of terror as they rapidly vanished off in the distance. Try as he could, he was having serious difficulty getting his body to do anything like he wanted it to do.

What looked like a very beautiful young woman appeared in a small cloud of what smelled like baby powder, dressed in a black sheer outfit that left nothing to the imagination. She cooed softly, “Aww, diddums needa dipee? No worries, Nana here, an’ will take good care of you …”

Beyond that point, what she was saying began to make no sense to Ballachior. Try as he did, all the noises came from him sounded like babble and total gibberish.

Ballachior found himself helplessly in this young woman’s arms – no, she was a demon; he could still tell that. He had another severely startling realization; he wasn’t what mortals would consider a he anymore. “Nana” diapered and dressed him as cute as any babydoll in pink plastic lined rumba panties over the super thick crawly diaper. Ballachior felt really strange as he discovered the poofy sleeves on the adorable fairy princess babydoll dress she had dressed him in.

Next thing Ballachior knew, he was in a playpen with … he totally couldn’t believe it; there were actually demon babies.

Something made a squeaky noise. The now infant she-demon’s mind instantly forgot all other thoughts before turning to find the source of the sound ... that became the most important thing in the universe as several of the other adorable demon infants in the large playpen converged on an amazing squeaking toy.

At this point, Baron Ballachior, erstwhile contender for rank, was magically dropped from the contender calendar as his mind became her infant body and she fit right in with the rest of the screeching and tumultuous infant demons.

The small number of infants slowly began to grow in number over time. Malevia, in her new role, couldn't have been more willing to do a job in all the millenia she had been a Succubus, which had already become an almost forgotten memory.

If not for the fact that she was an actual demon, all the others around her were sure she would be radiating light more than the dim darkeness she radiated now. Malevia was oblivious to this or any other comments as she went about her wonderful business, caring for the growing infant population that had never existed before.

None of the almost infinitely large number of denizens of darkness could remember or had even fantasized about a demon baby; now they had almost a dozen. That number was slowly increasing as time passed, much to the greatest pleasure Malevia’s had ever known and to the large dismay of the realm of darkness.

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Deep beneath the surface of the planet Infantus, the Floppit named Core, oldest and wisest of them, tended the very heart of Infantus. Until another was born with the same talent he had, he was the only one who could stand the heat and pressure, and the only one who could ensure the intense temporal strains … but other than Persephone herself, Core was the only one who could read the vibrations of the planet’s center.

All seemed well. The molten minerals churned and mixed as they had for eons. There was a new vein, though, mixing in from far away. Core considered the possibility that this vein represented the very distant planet from which they had recently had those visitors. There was a thread of darkness running through the otherwise rosy golden color of the molten alloys. Core looked carefully at it. Demonic infants permanently attached to Miss Persephone’s chosen? But otherwise the bond didn’t harm anyone. Very well, no harm there. A demonic Nana? How strange, thought Core, but fitting to care for demonic babies.

But there was more, because there was only a thread of darkness. The rest of this vein mixing in with the minerals around it was bright. The world had thousands of Persephone’s chosen, perhaps even millions, that weren’t tainted with contact by the forces of evil. And thus the core of Infantus grew stronger. But that thread of darkness … should it be allowed to mix with the heart of Infantus itself? Would it not corrupt its essence? But then he looked closer. It was not bringing its darkness into the center. It was being purified. Demonic infants? They would become like any other infants. Demonic Nana? She would grow in skill and wisdom. Perhaps one day she could be welcomed into the sisterhood of other Nanas. Infantus would only be the richer.

Core singled out one fateful strand. The young Jacquelyn. Her soul bound to a demon, she was supplying the infernal regions of her planetary mythology only with the purest and most innocent of negative emotions. They could probably still get something out of them. And Jacquelyn herself wouldn’t be harmed by this. In fact, her parents would be well compensated for taking care of what would seem like an extra baby … assuming they could remember that Jacquelyn hadn’t originally been a member of their family. She would remain a baby for as long as she needed to be, and thanks to Miss Persephone’s influence, nobody would see anything wrong with that.

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Jacquelyn awoke in her crib. Her Mommy was there to pick her up and feed her. Her big brother Samson was already on solid foods, but not Jacquelyn. She suckled happily at her Mommy’s breast until she was satisfied, then Mommy lovingly changed her diaper. Jacquelyn was such a happy baby that the infernal realms never got very much energy from her. She played happily in her playpen and Samson helped his little sister build blocks, laughing when she knocked them over on purpose. She was the happiest she’d ever been, even considering her former life before accepting Baby Rules. Her fantasies had taken a few detours, but in the end, they really had come true.

================== The End ==================