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The leaves of the trees outside the window were turning in hue; from vibrant fresh green tones, to burnt umber and deep rust. The signs of death and decay that swept across the landscape, preparing for a bitter winter onslaught.

For now, though, this was only the beginning of autumn, and there were a few warmer days left. Not that they went outside. No. Outside was nice. Outside had normal people in it.

They stayed inside. Isolated. Well, almost isolated. There were three of them in this room. It was crowded in here to be honest, but it was far better than the alternative.

"Turn it down, guys, yeah?" he asked, turning from his studies laid out on the desk in front of him. He disturbed the paper that was laid strewn in little piles, and his fountain pen clattered onto the wooden slatted floor as his sleeve knocked it. Bloody robes!

Rap and Rave ignored him, still wheezing at Beavis and Butthead's antics on MTV as they sprawled on the sofa.

"GUYS!"

Rap's head lifted from his lifemate's chest. "Wha?"

"Turn it down, please. Come on," he reasoned, gesturing to his work.

"What you doing that for?" the smaller dinosaur asked, as though he were crazy, "come watch TV. We waited three weeks for our SKY dish to be put up..."

Anar picked up his pen, and rolled back his long sleeves, "as soon as I've done this translation. Infernal's about the only subject I'm actually good at. I'll finish it quicker if you turn the volume down. Some of us have larger ears than others!"

Rave scowled as the volume number descended on the screen. "What's that mammal's problem, now? He's always whinging."

"He's finishing his homework, dear."

"Mental," the bigger, darker scaled dinosaur huffed.

Anar sighed, his shoulders sagging. He rubbed his temples and read the paragraph for the tenth time. Still, only about three recognised words actually popped into his head. He wrote them down, anyway.

Footsteps could be heard outside the door.

His long ears pricked over the noise of cartoons.

There was a bang! And the door shivered. "Demon donkey! Demon donkey!" and laughter could be heard.

"Let me at 'em!" Rave roared, shifting from his seat.

Anar waved his hand, "leave 'em, they're just pratting about. I'm not bothered."

"You heard him, dear. Settle down" Rap soothed.

But Rave was agitated now, "settle down? We're his familiars! I'll eat you!" he roared to the fading quickened footsteps as their antagonists made a hasty exit.

He turned on Anar again, sharp fangs glistening in the light of the screen, "you can't let that monkey prick keep calling you that!"

"Hush!" Rap insisted.

"Well, he can't! I'm the only one calls him names around here."

Rap got up and walked over to his studious friend who was rubbing at his eyes. "You ok, mate?" he asked, softly, claws on his robed shoulder.

"Yeah," Anar sniffed, "I'm alright. Smoke from the candles, you know..."

"Sure, sure. Come on, X Files will be on in a bit. Sit with us. You'll feel better."

"Will I?" he asked, hollowly. He scraped back his chair and nestled into the last free inches of leather lounge seat, admitting defeat.

"At least take those silly clothes off," Rave rumbled, still grumpy.

"Ok, ok," Anar fidgeted and pulled at his garments until he was comfy in only his boxers.

"Better?' Rap patted his grey thigh, chummily.

He nodded, attempting a smile, grateful for the distraction from his unsettling thoughts.

Outside the sky darkened. Inside, radiators came to life with a watery gurgling.

It was another day closer to the one Anar was dreading. He knew he wouldn't be sleeping tonight, another reason for trying to catch up on his long list of due homework. It took his mind off things. Made him feel a tiny bit better.

The other students were champing at the bit. They were looking forward to it. The highlight of the first term: choosing your demonic appearance.

Wings. Horns. Tail. Claws. Teeth.

They could be as crazy or as minimal as you wished, but you had to choose. And you were stuck with them. This would be the body you took with you into the Underworld. Your official form.

Anar wanted to run. To run far away, and never come back. But that wasn't what his father wanted. Peregrin Warlock, Director Demon, Chair on the Board of Governors at the Infernal Holy College, was not an aardvark to be trifled with. He was a mild family man Upstairs here on Earth, spending his days meddling in mortal affairs, but you crossed him in an official capacity and it was Game Over.

Anar knew the only worth he had to that man was following in his evil footseteps. Footsteps that lead through the Abyssal Gate and into the very centre of Pandemonium itself. A future in Hell.

This year had been a sequence of bizarre events for Anarchy Warlock: in the Easter school break, before his final High School exams and 16th birthday, he'd found dinosaurs in the forest behind his family home. It had been rad. Velociraptors! Straight out of Jurassic Park! Ok, sure, one of them had tried to eat him and had received a thump for the trouble, but Rave wasn't so bad, really. Rap was sweet and kind-hearted, if a little ditzy and hippy. Also liked wearing crop tops and skirts a little more than Anar was fully comfortable with, but he was a mate, so what could you do? Anar needed friends desperately. He was alone, and scared, and unwanted.

Then he'd won a plushie at the fair. Sounds innocent enough, right? People win things all the time. Sort of. Everyone knows fair games are rigged, but just occasionally a lucky shot happens. That lucky shot was his! He'd won a big, black panther plushie. He'd never won anything before in his life! It was his prized possession, even more than his pogs. His snotty younger brother had whined all the way home, begging and crying and threatening to tell mom and dad that he wouldn't give it to him.

Anar had been resolute. It was his. Forever.

The plushie had sprung to life and been great fun at home, scaring Edward into wetting himself. Anar had a sidekick like in a TV show, and he'd loved every minute. Guen had even chased Rave around a bit!

But his father had been furious. He'd never seen him turn on him like that before, and the memory terrified him. His full demonic form towering over him, blocking the light, claws like scythes reaching for Anar's Sweater Shop jumper...

So, he'd spent the summer at his uncle's place.

Warlock Court.

That should be his home! It was massive; it had stables, and fields, and old British racing cars parked in a huge shed, and three storeys to explore. It was like a castle! Guen loved it, too, until he ate a sheep and uncle Monty got a bit cross. So Guen had to stay as a plushie for the remainder of the summer holidays.

But! He'd made a new friend!

Destroyer.

The beautiful black stallion had emerged from some trees, nickering and tossing his mane, rubbing his velvet muzzle on Anar's cheek. He'd looked into the horse's deep, chestnut eyes and seen a burning glow that drew him in and filled his head with wonder.

It had been the first time that 'it' had happened, too.

He kept the memory quiet; he refused to try and make it happen again, but happen it did.

His blood had bubbled. It was worrying at first, he was sure he was poorly, but then Destroyer had spoken:

"My General."

He didn't understand, and he still was a little unsure, even now, truth be told, but the magical creature - Nightmare, in fact, was insistent that he was someone else.

That someone else had been in a painting that he'd found on his wanderings in the grand country house. An ancient ancestor who had also been called Anarchy Warlock. A powerful mage. A General who'd commanded an army.

Destroyer's master.

After all that confusion, he'd been welcomed by uncle Mortimer as a family member and not just a temporary pest. He'd been shown an old book kept in a locked, glass case. The Book of Warlock. He couldn't read it, though. No-one could. The story inside was mostly lost in time. Some of the drawings were pretty cool.

Summer was over before he knew it, and now here he was, in the Infernal Holy College, beginning his demonic studies. Preparing for a career working for the Dark Lord.

Yippee.

Tomorrow may be a bad dream become reality, but for today, at least, music videos would save him. He felt Rap's slim arm wrap around his torso and he closed his grey eyes, letting the melodies wash over him as he rested.

Anar woke with a start. He snuffled his snout and batted the inflatable cushion off his head. He'd fallen asleep on the sofa, and rather soundly, too. That meant his bed was occupied by cheeky reptiles! He swept his hair out of his eyes, padding over to his four-poster bed that had the swags drawn across.

"Oi!" he complained.

The two dinosaurs were stretched across the mattress, arms and legs and tails everywhere, snoring loudly.

Familiars were not usually big walking, talking lizards. It was customary for demon students for bring with them a pixie or faerie, a magical animal no larger than a squirrel, maybe. Something small to fetch items, carry stationery, turn your book pages at best. They were pedigree creatures, bred for purpose, loyal to a fault and would be perched upon the shoulders of students during class.

Rap and Rave were both taller than he was. They were also about as useful as a chocolate teapot and had as much magic in them as a Panda pop.

Anar kicked his posh bed, shaking it. The dinosaurs wobbled. They didn't stir.

The black, dribbly candles he'd been burning had extinguished themselves in gloopy puddles. The television had been turned off. The night outside was clouded and inky. It was late. Or early. Snatching his Swatch watch off the small, bedside table, the glow-in-the-dark zigzag hands told him it was 2am.

Rap and Rave were just a tad bit too big to fit in the hanging cage that was reserved for more sensible magical sidekicks, so they normally dozed in a sleeping bag on the floor, atop the knitted Habitat rug.

Anar crawled under the covers between his two friends, digging his elbows in smooth scales to make space, accompanied by much grunting and nasal whistling from their snoozing, snappy jaws. At least he wouldn't be cold! Rave's sharp teeth loomed into view, and he turned over, covering his head with his pillow, Rap's tail sticking between his thighs, wondering if begging his father to be able to bring his two new pals with him was such a bright idea after all.

They woke with the sun, its rays breaking through in wide beams straight into the gaps in the bed's swags. They groaned as one, rubbing eyes and stretching limbs. They bumped each other and rumbled apologies.

The two dinosaurs paused and looked at Anar, mouths slowly grinning innocently, knowing full well they'd stolen the bed when he'd conked out while watching MTV.

"Watch them flippin' claws, yeah?" the aardvark scowled, not fancying being disembowelled before breakfast. "I apologise my bed's not big enough for all three of us..."

The green pals slipped out and headed to the bathroom. The shower pump hummed into life and cabinets clicked open.

Anar opened his bedside drawer and grabbed his amulet, slinging it around his neck. He shook the can of Coke by his lamp and it sloshed, so he emptied it thirstily, before tossing it to the metal wire bin by the laundry basket. Next was his pack of Marlboros; he lit one, still in bed, still in his boxers, still feeling miserable.

His homework hadn't been finished. His study robe was still crumpled up on the floor by the sofa. Everything was a mess. He was a mess. Life, if he were to sum it up, was a mess.

And it was about to get worse.

He sucked in a lungful of acrid smoke, feeling the nicotine rush, and snorted it from his nostrils in a blue cloud. His stomach rumbled. He didn't have time for food; another Coke and its sugary goodness would have to do. He'd liked the bacon sandwiches that uncle Mortimer had made for him in the summer. After his parents had begun neglecting him, it had been nice to be fed something nutritious. If he was braver, he'd venture outside of the crumbling walls of the College and find a Happy Shopper. For now, he lived off the vending machine. There was a student kitchen he could buy food from, but that meant other students, and he kept away from them as much as was possible outside of class. Didn't want to learn their names, didn't want to know their ambitions, didn't want to know where they came from or what positions in the Underworld their parents held. Demons didn't make friends, they nurtured rivalries instead, and Anar had already fell into one human student's sight.

Rap had assured him it was jealousy: Anar had been given special permission from senior lecturers to have his two dinosaur familiars stay with him, for them to follow him around like bodyguards.

But Anar didn't want to have bodyguards, he wanted to have friends, like normal kids did. He wanted to practise his skateboarding skills down the street, not copy text from forbidden tomes. He wanted to keep his Tamagotchi alive for a whole week, not wrangle with spectres.

"Bathroom's up, mate!" Rap chirruped.

"Great. Busting," he stubbed his cigarette butt into the ashtray and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

"Today's gonna be fun," he heard Rave say, before Anar stood under the shower and vigorously scrubbed.

Magic was the cause of all his woes.

He had a spark of natural magic within him, and this was not good. Wielding tame magic from charms and sceptres was perfectly respectable. Admired, even, in society.

Having it running in your blood made you dirty. Dangerous.

His life had been amazing up until his natural magic had outed itself. He'd rich parents - father a demon on the Board of Directors in Hell, mother an ex-succubus, as dangerous as she was beautiful, both happily living their dream of having a family Upstairs on Earth in the mortal realm. They'd had luxurious holidays. Anar had everything he'd asked for, and more. They'd lived in a four-bed, detached house on the edge of the forest surrounded by leafy suburb, a Mercedes on the drive and an Aga range cooker in the kitchen.

It had all been ripped from him. He was an outcast, he was disgusting, he was not wanted anymore.

He rubbed the tops of his arms, remembering where his father had grabbed him in his anger; his long, scarlet claws piercing and pinching, as he told him just how worthless he was. Tears rolled down his grey cheeks. It wasn't his fault! He just wanted everything to go back to how it was. To be loved again.

As much as Anar did not want to go through with this form choosing ceremony, if he wanted to make his father happy, he would have to. He had no choice.

Rubbing his snout, washing away any trace of his inner suffering, Anar proceeded to wash his hair, turning his self-pity into prideful grooming. He liked his hair. It always swept so nicely. He'd dyed it blonde before, but now it was back to its natural grey. He could go red, or he could go black. Those were among the accepted colours for pupils. He'd decide later. Now, it was time to brush his teeth, and face his darkest hour.