The Imp

It sat in a tree staring at the old house on the corner. Its mischievous mind contemplating what its master had instructed. It crossed to a solid branch that was next to a window. Looking around, making sure no one noticed, it opened the window and hopped inside.

The imp had only wanted to be friends, however an evil warlock had tricked him. Now he only served him and his evil ways. If he did not do what the warlock command of him a multiple of bad things would happen to him. His leathery wings could be ripped off, his long tail could be cut off, or his pointed ears could have a hot poker jabbed through them.

The imp crawled around on the floor until he reached the nursery. The baby stood up in the crib, and watched the imp step toward her. He lifted his finger and traced the act of the baby being lifted out of the crib. Like magic the baby floated up and into the hands of the imp. Quickly he left the house.

At the cave the baby laid on an altar surrounded by black candles. The warlock stood to the side waving a knife over her as he chanted special words.
The imp waited in the shadows. When the warlock stepped away from the altar; the imp made him move. He snatched the baby and ran to the opening of the cave. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled something out and through it onto the ground.

The warlock dashed out after the imp only to be greeted with thick smoke.