Prologue

Deland's Quick Stop wasn't anything special on the outside, which wasn't to say it was anything particularly special inside either. In fact, it wasn't even kind of bland, nor unappealing, not even unlikeable. To put it nicely, if Deland's were a street sign, you would miss your turn every time.

It was forgettable.

But that had always been the point. Much like a mafia front, which it wasn't, Deland's was a store, which it was, that housed a most terrible and unusual secret. {Terrible for dramatic effect, and unusual because it was true.} Professor Dorian Deland was an old man at one point in his life, and before that he was young, after it all he was dead, but somewhere in between he had been a smart man, if not a bit peculiar and preoccupied.

He had found her {Sebastian, that is} born from the fault between two worlds. Small, as most children are, with the fire of Hell burning in her eyes and a mouth full of teeth, which any parent could tell you, isn't all that odd either.

He had always known wise men to say, that good things come in threes.
Which in turn must meant that so too should bad things. Dorian Deland wasn't quite sure which thing he had, or which thing his colleague, Professor Broom had, or what third thing may have slipped through the cracks when they weren't looking - what he did know, was that he was good. And so was Broom. And if they were both, very good men, then so too should be these two would-be-demons.

Except Sebastian.
Who would grow up to be a very good woman.

And she did.

{Let the record reflect that Dorian Deland never once specified whether or not she would be nice. And as for the testament of reviews of the late Professor Deland's legacy in store front location, Sebastian Deland has been noted as a "cold and rude individual who lacks integrity" by the multitude of 1-2 star Google reviews. Of which there are a lot.}

To what ever happened to Professor Broom or the other Hell-child, the Delands never knew {sic}. The history of their occurrence was never recorded to the bookshelves of Dorian Deland's homestead, nor did the story of them ever decorate the dreamscapes of bedtime stories told to an unwearied young Sebastian.

She did not know him.
And he did not know her.

So it was only natural that these two, what should never meet - would some day, by some coincidence of fate {or perhaps not, for all beliefs are not the same} be reunited. Which of course, was exactly what was about to happen forty three minutes and twenty two seconds after Crown Alarm Company had called Sebastian in the middle of a new morning's night.