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[WP] A genie offers you three wishes with a catch. Whatever you wish for will be granted three times over for your worst enemy. | When you come across an artifact straight from a fairy tale, it starts to give credence to everything else that's unseen. Though, sometimes those fairy tales get the real deal wrong.
Aladdin had it wrong. Three rubs and this thing didn't toot, didn't puff smoke, didn't make a noise. You get a little disheartened when your imagination gets the better of-
"Is the internal monologue over?"
Where the hell did this guy come from. Is that the-
"Yes, yes. I'm the genie. I've got a 5 o'clock appointment, do you mind if we get to the details?"
"Uh ... Well, I'm sure you get this often, but you aren't what I expected. You also kinda popped out of thin air, so give me a sec."
"Yeah, take all the time you need *oh, master*."
So a real genie, who is a real douche.
"Fine, so what are the terms?"
"Meh, we don't do contracts and there isn't a box that you have to check off or a dotted line to sign. You make your wish and I might grant it."
"Might?"
"There are limitations, of course. I will strike down anything that is world breaking or that might affect me and mine. My people live here, too, after all."
"Okay, I think I know wha-"
"Oh, and one more thing before you start ... One wish. Not two. Not three. Do not pass go. Do not go straight to jail. No redo's or rerolls. No second chances. Crystal?"
"... Yeah, we're clear."
"Good, one more thing. Another minor clause, which has been instituted after a certain German got ahold of a genie phylactery, is that whatever you wish, your worst enemy will be granted the same by three."
"... That seems ... unusual."
The genie sighs and rubs his bald head.
"Yeeeaaah, well, we like a world in relative balance and equilibrium. The head guy doesn't want too much brimstone, whether divine or manufactured."
"Well. Okay. Give me a sec with this one. I know you got a schedule, this is a game changer."
The genie nods solemnly.
"I've got at least a half hour if you need that much time. Just rub the phylactery again and I'll be back."
"Nah, it's okay. I know what I want."
"Shoot."
"Could I get a card mailed to me by an unknown friend on a random, but fitting holiday?"
The genie raises one eyebrow. I know he's interested.
"That's a first. I could just read your mind ... but why that?"
"Cuz I know he needs it more than I do." | "By rubbing my lamp you get three wishes, I'm sure you're aware of all of this but I am required by law to read the entire thing." the genie said looking up from the card. "Whatever you wish will be granted three times over to your worst enemy. Do you want to know who it is?" I look hysterically at the genie "not at all" I say with a smile knowing exactly who it is. "I want to be disciplined enough to complete my goals without having to fight myself to do so, total control over every process in my body and an infinite number of wishes to go to my worst enemy." As I spoke my words took effect I felt it immediately I could do anything all on my own. I can alter my body chemistry but not ever enough to kill me because of the natural safeguards a body has to prevent injuring itself without outside help, and lastly I have infinite wishes because I am my own worst enemy. (Not entirely awake when I wrote this. I'd love critiques.) | |
[WP] A genie offers you three wishes with a catch. Whatever you wish for will be granted three times over for your worst enemy. | When you come across an artifact straight from a fairy tale, it starts to give credence to everything else that's unseen. Though, sometimes those fairy tales get the real deal wrong.
Aladdin had it wrong. Three rubs and this thing didn't toot, didn't puff smoke, didn't make a noise. You get a little disheartened when your imagination gets the better of-
"Is the internal monologue over?"
Where the hell did this guy come from. Is that the-
"Yes, yes. I'm the genie. I've got a 5 o'clock appointment, do you mind if we get to the details?"
"Uh ... Well, I'm sure you get this often, but you aren't what I expected. You also kinda popped out of thin air, so give me a sec."
"Yeah, take all the time you need *oh, master*."
So a real genie, who is a real douche.
"Fine, so what are the terms?"
"Meh, we don't do contracts and there isn't a box that you have to check off or a dotted line to sign. You make your wish and I might grant it."
"Might?"
"There are limitations, of course. I will strike down anything that is world breaking or that might affect me and mine. My people live here, too, after all."
"Okay, I think I know wha-"
"Oh, and one more thing before you start ... One wish. Not two. Not three. Do not pass go. Do not go straight to jail. No redo's or rerolls. No second chances. Crystal?"
"... Yeah, we're clear."
"Good, one more thing. Another minor clause, which has been instituted after a certain German got ahold of a genie phylactery, is that whatever you wish, your worst enemy will be granted the same by three."
"... That seems ... unusual."
The genie sighs and rubs his bald head.
"Yeeeaaah, well, we like a world in relative balance and equilibrium. The head guy doesn't want too much brimstone, whether divine or manufactured."
"Well. Okay. Give me a sec with this one. I know you got a schedule, this is a game changer."
The genie nods solemnly.
"I've got at least a half hour if you need that much time. Just rub the phylactery again and I'll be back."
"Nah, it's okay. I know what I want."
"Shoot."
"Could I get a card mailed to me by an unknown friend on a random, but fitting holiday?"
The genie raises one eyebrow. I know he's interested.
"That's a first. I could just read your mind ... but why that?"
"Cuz I know he needs it more than I do." | After rubbing the lamp three times, smoke began to form and take shape of a man. Middle aged, kind of balding, baggy clothes. Not what I was expecting of a genie.
“Alright,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “Lemme get them wishes.”
“Ah, ah ah.” He replied, waving a finger in my face. “First, the details. Due to your eagerness, whatever you receive, your worst enemy shall get three fold. Choose wisely.”
What kind of half baked, messed up genie is this. This is seriously fuc- Oh, I’m alright.
I nodded. “Okie doke. That’s cool I guess. I wish to be beaten half to death.”
Next thing I knew I woke up in a hospital, genie standing at the foot of my bed.
"Finally, its been three days... "master", what are the other two wishes."
I thought for moment. "Is Richard dead?"
He raised an eyebrow. "In all my years, your the third person to do that, but the first person to ask for confirmation, and not in the form of a wish. Yes, he perished. You cannot beat a man half to death three times over and have him live. I assure you, his family is quite distraught."
I crackled with laughed. He was finally gone. My life long tormentor, from grade school to now, gone.
"Alright, I don't want to be too greedy, so I'll settle with one hundred million dollars thats legit in my name."
"It is done."
"What, no "I wish" needed?"
"We update the fine print."
I saw that my phone was on my bedside. I quickly reached for it, opening the app and checking my bank account. After confirming, I leaned back and sighed, nothing like knowing you were set for life.
"Okay, Mr. Genie. One last thing. I want all the Iron Man suits from the movies, fully functional, coded to me, from the movies, in a bunker behind my house."
"As you command." And he was gone.
Suddenly my phone rang. It was my mother.
"Hey, Ma."
"Haseoxth, you'll never guess what just happened! You're step father won the lottery!!! Three hundred million dollars!!!! And trucks are here saying that he also won usable Iron Man suits, exactly built like those in the comics! In this crazy?!"
I put down the phone. I thought about my worst enemy. I kept forgetting that Dave was a close second. | |
You can switch the gender of the person if you want. | [WP] A man refuses to go to heaven and demands from god to be sent to hell. | Paul pushed the winged man away from him, his black cloak billowing behind him in the ethereal breeze. He recognized the golden gates atop the fluffy clouds that symbolized heaven: this was exactly what he did not want. The winged man, an angel no doubt, swooped back down to grab the man before he could plummet to hell. The angel's friends soon joined him in bringing the man towards the gates. As more and more angels swarmed poor Paul, a booming voice echoed from far away, with the peacefulness of a delicate flower but additionally the force of a mountain.
"Speak, mortal, as to why you do not wish to enter these gates," the voice stated.
Paul gestured to his black cloak and the pentagram around his neck amidst the white feathers and gilded halos.
"Because screw you God, I'm a Satan kinda' guy! I've worshipped and sacrificed to Satan, why the hell am I up here?!"
The voice let out a loud laugh. "Because heaven is hell for people like you."
Paul screamed as he was dragged into this heavenly hell, cursing God's name and begging for rescue from Lucifer. | The tears were still rolling down his young face by the time the elevator reached the top floor. The clam shell doors opened to a bright, sunny vista teeming with cheerful faces and pleasant sounds. A man in a straw hat was sidling over to the little boy.
"Hello, young man! Welcome to your new home! You can have anything you want here, as long as you don't take it from someone else."
"B-but, my daddy...he's...gone", the little boy mewled helplessly, garnering pity from the man in the hat.
"Why, where did he go?"
"The first floor."
The man's face suddenly grew a noticeable pallor at the revelation of the fate of the boy's father.
"Well, your daddy isn't meant to be here with you. We can all be your daddy now. We'll love you and take care of you, and you'll never be sad again!" He pumped so much reassurance into his words he was sure the boy would not refuse.
"No!" the young man said obstinately, "I want MY daddy! Now!" As his last word trailed off into silence, the man scrambled for a solution. His hands were tied, his boss had decreed that no one ever comes up the elevator, they can only go down.
"I'm sorry, son, we can't bring him here." He bolted a tone of sternness onto his words, hoping to quell any rebellion.
"Y-you said I could have anything I want here, right?", his tears were beginning to dry now.
"Yes."
"Then I want to go to my daddy."
"But you can't! You have to-"
"Take me! It's what I want, and I can have anything I want! You said so!"
The man let out a pained sigh. He went still for a time, communicating wordlessly with his boss. After a few minutes, he turned to the young man. "If that's what you want...."
And the young man turned around, got in the elevator, and pressed the black button. |
You can switch the gender of the person if you want. | [WP] A man refuses to go to heaven and demands from god to be sent to hell. | The man wakes up and looks around the area confused. He looks over and sees a hooded person standing by a panel with 2 buttons on it. Upon further inspection of the panel he determines that one button says "Up" and the other says "Down".
He stands up and asks the person "Where am I?"
"You are currently in an elevator with yours truly."
"But, but I thought I died? Who are you? Why am I here?"
"Well I lets answer those questions one at a time, you have died Mr.Smith, and I am the great person you had hated, despised and ultimately given up on, God. You are here because I am about to take you to the place you belong, Heaven."
Mr.Smith falls back down in disbelief.
"Hah, you must be joking me! You were never there in my life when I needed you, but now you show up? and of all times when I'm dead? I don't need your charity."
Mr.Smith walks over and pushes the hooded person out of the way and hits the down button on the panel. The uniformed person grabs Mr.Smith's hand and represses the down button.
"Now now Mr.Smith let's not be hasty here, you belong in heaven, you have done very little wrong in your life and we have more than enough space to accommodate you."
"I don't want to be with you, you took away my wife from me. You took away her ability to move, to speak, to feel! You caused me to remain unfaithful to my wife! It's all your fault!"
"Mr.Smith you can have a second chance, your wife is up in heaven waiting for you, she can speak and walk normally now."
"How could you let me get in that car accident? Why was she disabled and not me? Why didn't you stop me from cheating on her?"
The hooded person remained silent while Mr.Smith collapsed into the corner of the elevator.
"I don't want her to see me, I can't stand to look at her face again."
Tears began rushing down Mr.Smith's face.
"I was so unfaithful to her, yet every time I went to visit her it would appear as if she was always happy, always smiling. I can't bring myself to it. Just let me go to hell! I have committed adultery, I broke one of your sins!"
"Mr.Smith is this truly what you desire? To remain in hell away from the one that loves you?"
"Yes it is what I desire, now push the god damn button and let me go to hell."
The uniformed person pushes the button and the elevator starts descending.
Mr.Smith remains crying until they reach their destination. The elevator doors slowly begin to open. Mr.Smith looks up and the hooded person stands between Mr.Smith and the elevator entrance. The person turns around slowly taking off her hood.
"M-m-marie? Why are you here?"
Marie walks away from the entrance and a burst of light enters Mr.Smith's eyes. He sees the gates to heaven.
"Welcome to heaven darling."
"I thought I was talking to God? Why am I in heaven?"
"Looks like you were able to convince me of forgiving you James."
| The tears were still rolling down his young face by the time the elevator reached the top floor. The clam shell doors opened to a bright, sunny vista teeming with cheerful faces and pleasant sounds. A man in a straw hat was sidling over to the little boy.
"Hello, young man! Welcome to your new home! You can have anything you want here, as long as you don't take it from someone else."
"B-but, my daddy...he's...gone", the little boy mewled helplessly, garnering pity from the man in the hat.
"Why, where did he go?"
"The first floor."
The man's face suddenly grew a noticeable pallor at the revelation of the fate of the boy's father.
"Well, your daddy isn't meant to be here with you. We can all be your daddy now. We'll love you and take care of you, and you'll never be sad again!" He pumped so much reassurance into his words he was sure the boy would not refuse.
"No!" the young man said obstinately, "I want MY daddy! Now!" As his last word trailed off into silence, the man scrambled for a solution. His hands were tied, his boss had decreed that no one ever comes up the elevator, they can only go down.
"I'm sorry, son, we can't bring him here." He bolted a tone of sternness onto his words, hoping to quell any rebellion.
"Y-you said I could have anything I want here, right?", his tears were beginning to dry now.
"Yes."
"Then I want to go to my daddy."
"But you can't! You have to-"
"Take me! It's what I want, and I can have anything I want! You said so!"
The man let out a pained sigh. He went still for a time, communicating wordlessly with his boss. After a few minutes, he turned to the young man. "If that's what you want...."
And the young man turned around, got in the elevator, and pressed the black button. |
You can switch the gender of the person if you want. | [WP] A man refuses to go to heaven and demands from god to be sent to hell. | "Look god I'm telling you, I can't enjoy heaven if I know there are people in hell"
"Thats not how heaven works, everyone enjoys heaven" the angel says to me
"Oh so you would mind control me to forget about everyone in hell? Or just make me not care any more!?"
"Thats... not how it works." The angel says
"Look I know you said I'm good and I need to go to heaven, but I want to speak to your manger"
"Do... do you think this is a fast food place!? this is the holy gates of heaven, and a lowly mortal can't just..."
"WHATS GOING ON OUT THERE" a booming voice speaks
"Don't worry about it god, I got it taken care of!" the angel replies
"NO, NO, I WANT TO SEE THIS"
"Look, all I'm saying is that I don't want to go to heaven if there are people in hell, If I let my self enjoy heaven when hell exists I wouldn't be worthy of heaven."
"YOU KNOW THAT WON"T REALLY HELP THE PEOPLE IN HELL RIGHT? JUST ADDS ONE MORE TO THE COUNT"
"Furthermore, why does hell last forever anyway. whats good punishing people with out..."
the clouds opened up under under the man. He gets his wish | The tears were still rolling down his young face by the time the elevator reached the top floor. The clam shell doors opened to a bright, sunny vista teeming with cheerful faces and pleasant sounds. A man in a straw hat was sidling over to the little boy.
"Hello, young man! Welcome to your new home! You can have anything you want here, as long as you don't take it from someone else."
"B-but, my daddy...he's...gone", the little boy mewled helplessly, garnering pity from the man in the hat.
"Why, where did he go?"
"The first floor."
The man's face suddenly grew a noticeable pallor at the revelation of the fate of the boy's father.
"Well, your daddy isn't meant to be here with you. We can all be your daddy now. We'll love you and take care of you, and you'll never be sad again!" He pumped so much reassurance into his words he was sure the boy would not refuse.
"No!" the young man said obstinately, "I want MY daddy! Now!" As his last word trailed off into silence, the man scrambled for a solution. His hands were tied, his boss had decreed that no one ever comes up the elevator, they can only go down.
"I'm sorry, son, we can't bring him here." He bolted a tone of sternness onto his words, hoping to quell any rebellion.
"Y-you said I could have anything I want here, right?", his tears were beginning to dry now.
"Yes."
"Then I want to go to my daddy."
"But you can't! You have to-"
"Take me! It's what I want, and I can have anything I want! You said so!"
The man let out a pained sigh. He went still for a time, communicating wordlessly with his boss. After a few minutes, he turned to the young man. "If that's what you want...."
And the young man turned around, got in the elevator, and pressed the black button. |
You can switch the gender of the person if you want. | [WP] A man refuses to go to heaven and demands from god to be sent to hell. | "Welcome to heaven. Here's your plug. Plug in"
"Welcome to heaven. Here's your plug. Plug in"
"Welcome to heaven. Here's your plug. Plug in"
Angel Ramsbottom wasn't pleased he was assigned plug in duty today but someone had to do it so he kept at it.
"Welcome to heaven. Here's your plug. Plug in"
"Plug into what?" James inquired.
"To heaven of course" the angel retorted.
James peered beyond the pearly gates to see infinitely long lines of cubicles inhabited by what he could only assume were people plugged in. They looked serene and blissful. Like in a perpetual orgasm.
"What does it feel like?"
"Well why don't you try it?" The angel prescribed.
"Has anyone ever unplugged?" James wondered.
"No one wants out of heaven buddy. They're all connected and live as Gods in a world that can't be imagined. "
"So it's a hive mind?"
"It's heaven"
"Can you show me what hell looks like?"
"Why would you even want to see that?"
"I'm just curious"
"It's nothing special. Just worldly pleasures. Endless debauchery. Everyone is an individual. No communing like in heaven"
"What? I thought there'll be punishment eternal"
"Compared to heaven that's punishment"
"But if I join a hive I would cease to be who I am"
"Don't call it that. You would commune with the others and become more than yourself"
"Well let me take a quick look at hell"
James is transported to an island. He loses his inhibitions. Everyone is naked. Everyone is extremely horny. There's loud rave music playing. It's one huge orgy.
He notices there are two big booty hoes sucking on his pecker.
....
| The tears were still rolling down his young face by the time the elevator reached the top floor. The clam shell doors opened to a bright, sunny vista teeming with cheerful faces and pleasant sounds. A man in a straw hat was sidling over to the little boy.
"Hello, young man! Welcome to your new home! You can have anything you want here, as long as you don't take it from someone else."
"B-but, my daddy...he's...gone", the little boy mewled helplessly, garnering pity from the man in the hat.
"Why, where did he go?"
"The first floor."
The man's face suddenly grew a noticeable pallor at the revelation of the fate of the boy's father.
"Well, your daddy isn't meant to be here with you. We can all be your daddy now. We'll love you and take care of you, and you'll never be sad again!" He pumped so much reassurance into his words he was sure the boy would not refuse.
"No!" the young man said obstinately, "I want MY daddy! Now!" As his last word trailed off into silence, the man scrambled for a solution. His hands were tied, his boss had decreed that no one ever comes up the elevator, they can only go down.
"I'm sorry, son, we can't bring him here." He bolted a tone of sternness onto his words, hoping to quell any rebellion.
"Y-you said I could have anything I want here, right?", his tears were beginning to dry now.
"Yes."
"Then I want to go to my daddy."
"But you can't! You have to-"
"Take me! It's what I want, and I can have anything I want! You said so!"
The man let out a pained sigh. He went still for a time, communicating wordlessly with his boss. After a few minutes, he turned to the young man. "If that's what you want...."
And the young man turned around, got in the elevator, and pressed the black button. |
You can switch the gender of the person if you want. | [WP] A man refuses to go to heaven and demands from god to be sent to hell. | Paul pushed the winged man away from him, his black cloak billowing behind him in the ethereal breeze. He recognized the golden gates atop the fluffy clouds that symbolized heaven: this was exactly what he did not want. The winged man, an angel no doubt, swooped back down to grab the man before he could plummet to hell. The angel's friends soon joined him in bringing the man towards the gates. As more and more angels swarmed poor Paul, a booming voice echoed from far away, with the peacefulness of a delicate flower but additionally the force of a mountain.
"Speak, mortal, as to why you do not wish to enter these gates," the voice stated.
Paul gestured to his black cloak and the pentagram around his neck amidst the white feathers and gilded halos.
"Because screw you God, I'm a Satan kinda' guy! I've worshipped and sacrificed to Satan, why the hell am I up here?!"
The voice let out a loud laugh. "Because heaven is hell for people like you."
Paul screamed as he was dragged into this heavenly hell, cursing God's name and begging for rescue from Lucifer. | She looked over her book closely, rubbing her temples in frustration. Humans had iPads and Google, but it was insisted she do things according to tradition. They made exceptions for so many things over the years, but this was one they refused to budge on. So here she was, stuck searching through a gigantic tome of names.
“Peter Kleinhardt. Date of birth: January 15, 1981. Date of passing: August 9, 2014. Fatally wounded in a car accident. A couple of brushes with local authorities, but nothing too serious. You’re not even guilty of fornication. Congratulations. That’s pretty rare. You’re free to pass, no time in purgatory necessary.”
“No. I don’t really want to go in. I know where all my friends and family are going, and I know the type of people who are up here. It’s boring, and I don’t want to spend an eternity with people I hate. I’d rather suffer with the people I know and love, whenever they get there. The fact that God would even allow atrocities like…” Peter continued on his unoriginal tirade about how unmerciful God is.
The angel sighed. She’d heard this so many times before, for so many different reasons. My wife is in hell. My son committed suicide. God is evil. Ennui. “Humans are so self-centered,” she thought, “they all think they’re the first person to ever give me this same boring speech.” She finally interrupted Peter. Though time had no real meaning here, its presence was still felt. She was stationed here for a millennium, and dealing with men like Peter made the time pass so much slower.
“Look, Peter, I’ve heard this exact speech a million times. It’s boring. And it’s not a choice. The big man doesn’t make mistakes, and even if he did he would never admit it. He really doesn’t care whether you’re happy here or not, just that you’re here and not there. You can berate me all you like, but you’re going inside whether you walk in or we force you inside.”
“But what if I-“
“What if you make a big scene and start acting like a crazy person. He’ll separate you from everyone else for a century and then give you another chance. If you continue to act out it’ll be two centuries, and so on. He won’t throw you out ever. We made sure that you’re incapable of committing any mortal sins up here, so you can’t do anything that will force his hand.”
“But what about-“
“But what about the fallen one. You’re not him. We’re the adults, you’re the children. You exile adults, you put children in timeout.”
“I’ll find a-“
“You’ll find a way. Great. I’m just going to assume, like all the others who gave me the exact same speech, that you’re not going to walk inside. So…”
She snapped her fingers and Peter re-appeared deep inside the gates. Like all the others, she knew Peter would act out for a few millennia and then settle down. Like other animals, humans eventually learned to behave given enough reinforcement and punishment.
The others near the front of the line were now eerily silent, aghast at her lack of patience with Peter. Humans always assumed angels were beings of infinite patience, that they would handle each individual with velvet gloves. Angels were supposed to be obedient, but certainly not patient. They were quick to bring up the fallen one but couldn’t piece together that he rebelled only because of his impatience. It was silly. Humans were silly, she decided. Silly and predictable.
“Next!” |
You can switch the gender of the person if you want. | [WP] A man refuses to go to heaven and demands from god to be sent to hell. | The man wakes up and looks around the area confused. He looks over and sees a hooded person standing by a panel with 2 buttons on it. Upon further inspection of the panel he determines that one button says "Up" and the other says "Down".
He stands up and asks the person "Where am I?"
"You are currently in an elevator with yours truly."
"But, but I thought I died? Who are you? Why am I here?"
"Well I lets answer those questions one at a time, you have died Mr.Smith, and I am the great person you had hated, despised and ultimately given up on, God. You are here because I am about to take you to the place you belong, Heaven."
Mr.Smith falls back down in disbelief.
"Hah, you must be joking me! You were never there in my life when I needed you, but now you show up? and of all times when I'm dead? I don't need your charity."
Mr.Smith walks over and pushes the hooded person out of the way and hits the down button on the panel. The uniformed person grabs Mr.Smith's hand and represses the down button.
"Now now Mr.Smith let's not be hasty here, you belong in heaven, you have done very little wrong in your life and we have more than enough space to accommodate you."
"I don't want to be with you, you took away my wife from me. You took away her ability to move, to speak, to feel! You caused me to remain unfaithful to my wife! It's all your fault!"
"Mr.Smith you can have a second chance, your wife is up in heaven waiting for you, she can speak and walk normally now."
"How could you let me get in that car accident? Why was she disabled and not me? Why didn't you stop me from cheating on her?"
The hooded person remained silent while Mr.Smith collapsed into the corner of the elevator.
"I don't want her to see me, I can't stand to look at her face again."
Tears began rushing down Mr.Smith's face.
"I was so unfaithful to her, yet every time I went to visit her it would appear as if she was always happy, always smiling. I can't bring myself to it. Just let me go to hell! I have committed adultery, I broke one of your sins!"
"Mr.Smith is this truly what you desire? To remain in hell away from the one that loves you?"
"Yes it is what I desire, now push the god damn button and let me go to hell."
The uniformed person pushes the button and the elevator starts descending.
Mr.Smith remains crying until they reach their destination. The elevator doors slowly begin to open. Mr.Smith looks up and the hooded person stands between Mr.Smith and the elevator entrance. The person turns around slowly taking off her hood.
"M-m-marie? Why are you here?"
Marie walks away from the entrance and a burst of light enters Mr.Smith's eyes. He sees the gates to heaven.
"Welcome to heaven darling."
"I thought I was talking to God? Why am I in heaven?"
"Looks like you were able to convince me of forgiving you James."
| She looked over her book closely, rubbing her temples in frustration. Humans had iPads and Google, but it was insisted she do things according to tradition. They made exceptions for so many things over the years, but this was one they refused to budge on. So here she was, stuck searching through a gigantic tome of names.
“Peter Kleinhardt. Date of birth: January 15, 1981. Date of passing: August 9, 2014. Fatally wounded in a car accident. A couple of brushes with local authorities, but nothing too serious. You’re not even guilty of fornication. Congratulations. That’s pretty rare. You’re free to pass, no time in purgatory necessary.”
“No. I don’t really want to go in. I know where all my friends and family are going, and I know the type of people who are up here. It’s boring, and I don’t want to spend an eternity with people I hate. I’d rather suffer with the people I know and love, whenever they get there. The fact that God would even allow atrocities like…” Peter continued on his unoriginal tirade about how unmerciful God is.
The angel sighed. She’d heard this so many times before, for so many different reasons. My wife is in hell. My son committed suicide. God is evil. Ennui. “Humans are so self-centered,” she thought, “they all think they’re the first person to ever give me this same boring speech.” She finally interrupted Peter. Though time had no real meaning here, its presence was still felt. She was stationed here for a millennium, and dealing with men like Peter made the time pass so much slower.
“Look, Peter, I’ve heard this exact speech a million times. It’s boring. And it’s not a choice. The big man doesn’t make mistakes, and even if he did he would never admit it. He really doesn’t care whether you’re happy here or not, just that you’re here and not there. You can berate me all you like, but you’re going inside whether you walk in or we force you inside.”
“But what if I-“
“What if you make a big scene and start acting like a crazy person. He’ll separate you from everyone else for a century and then give you another chance. If you continue to act out it’ll be two centuries, and so on. He won’t throw you out ever. We made sure that you’re incapable of committing any mortal sins up here, so you can’t do anything that will force his hand.”
“But what about-“
“But what about the fallen one. You’re not him. We’re the adults, you’re the children. You exile adults, you put children in timeout.”
“I’ll find a-“
“You’ll find a way. Great. I’m just going to assume, like all the others who gave me the exact same speech, that you’re not going to walk inside. So…”
She snapped her fingers and Peter re-appeared deep inside the gates. Like all the others, she knew Peter would act out for a few millennia and then settle down. Like other animals, humans eventually learned to behave given enough reinforcement and punishment.
The others near the front of the line were now eerily silent, aghast at her lack of patience with Peter. Humans always assumed angels were beings of infinite patience, that they would handle each individual with velvet gloves. Angels were supposed to be obedient, but certainly not patient. They were quick to bring up the fallen one but couldn’t piece together that he rebelled only because of his impatience. It was silly. Humans were silly, she decided. Silly and predictable.
“Next!” |
You can switch the gender of the person if you want. | [WP] A man refuses to go to heaven and demands from god to be sent to hell. | "Welcome to heaven. Here's your plug. Plug in"
"Welcome to heaven. Here's your plug. Plug in"
"Welcome to heaven. Here's your plug. Plug in"
Angel Ramsbottom wasn't pleased he was assigned plug in duty today but someone had to do it so he kept at it.
"Welcome to heaven. Here's your plug. Plug in"
"Plug into what?" James inquired.
"To heaven of course" the angel retorted.
James peered beyond the pearly gates to see infinitely long lines of cubicles inhabited by what he could only assume were people plugged in. They looked serene and blissful. Like in a perpetual orgasm.
"What does it feel like?"
"Well why don't you try it?" The angel prescribed.
"Has anyone ever unplugged?" James wondered.
"No one wants out of heaven buddy. They're all connected and live as Gods in a world that can't be imagined. "
"So it's a hive mind?"
"It's heaven"
"Can you show me what hell looks like?"
"Why would you even want to see that?"
"I'm just curious"
"It's nothing special. Just worldly pleasures. Endless debauchery. Everyone is an individual. No communing like in heaven"
"What? I thought there'll be punishment eternal"
"Compared to heaven that's punishment"
"But if I join a hive I would cease to be who I am"
"Don't call it that. You would commune with the others and become more than yourself"
"Well let me take a quick look at hell"
James is transported to an island. He loses his inhibitions. Everyone is naked. Everyone is extremely horny. There's loud rave music playing. It's one huge orgy.
He notices there are two big booty hoes sucking on his pecker.
....
| She looked over her book closely, rubbing her temples in frustration. Humans had iPads and Google, but it was insisted she do things according to tradition. They made exceptions for so many things over the years, but this was one they refused to budge on. So here she was, stuck searching through a gigantic tome of names.
“Peter Kleinhardt. Date of birth: January 15, 1981. Date of passing: August 9, 2014. Fatally wounded in a car accident. A couple of brushes with local authorities, but nothing too serious. You’re not even guilty of fornication. Congratulations. That’s pretty rare. You’re free to pass, no time in purgatory necessary.”
“No. I don’t really want to go in. I know where all my friends and family are going, and I know the type of people who are up here. It’s boring, and I don’t want to spend an eternity with people I hate. I’d rather suffer with the people I know and love, whenever they get there. The fact that God would even allow atrocities like…” Peter continued on his unoriginal tirade about how unmerciful God is.
The angel sighed. She’d heard this so many times before, for so many different reasons. My wife is in hell. My son committed suicide. God is evil. Ennui. “Humans are so self-centered,” she thought, “they all think they’re the first person to ever give me this same boring speech.” She finally interrupted Peter. Though time had no real meaning here, its presence was still felt. She was stationed here for a millennium, and dealing with men like Peter made the time pass so much slower.
“Look, Peter, I’ve heard this exact speech a million times. It’s boring. And it’s not a choice. The big man doesn’t make mistakes, and even if he did he would never admit it. He really doesn’t care whether you’re happy here or not, just that you’re here and not there. You can berate me all you like, but you’re going inside whether you walk in or we force you inside.”
“But what if I-“
“What if you make a big scene and start acting like a crazy person. He’ll separate you from everyone else for a century and then give you another chance. If you continue to act out it’ll be two centuries, and so on. He won’t throw you out ever. We made sure that you’re incapable of committing any mortal sins up here, so you can’t do anything that will force his hand.”
“But what about-“
“But what about the fallen one. You’re not him. We’re the adults, you’re the children. You exile adults, you put children in timeout.”
“I’ll find a-“
“You’ll find a way. Great. I’m just going to assume, like all the others who gave me the exact same speech, that you’re not going to walk inside. So…”
She snapped her fingers and Peter re-appeared deep inside the gates. Like all the others, she knew Peter would act out for a few millennia and then settle down. Like other animals, humans eventually learned to behave given enough reinforcement and punishment.
The others near the front of the line were now eerily silent, aghast at her lack of patience with Peter. Humans always assumed angels were beings of infinite patience, that they would handle each individual with velvet gloves. Angels were supposed to be obedient, but certainly not patient. They were quick to bring up the fallen one but couldn’t piece together that he rebelled only because of his impatience. It was silly. Humans were silly, she decided. Silly and predictable.
“Next!” |
You can switch the gender of the person if you want. | [WP] A man refuses to go to heaven and demands from god to be sent to hell. | "Welcome to heaven. Here's your plug. Plug in"
"Welcome to heaven. Here's your plug. Plug in"
"Welcome to heaven. Here's your plug. Plug in"
Angel Ramsbottom wasn't pleased he was assigned plug in duty today but someone had to do it so he kept at it.
"Welcome to heaven. Here's your plug. Plug in"
"Plug into what?" James inquired.
"To heaven of course" the angel retorted.
James peered beyond the pearly gates to see infinitely long lines of cubicles inhabited by what he could only assume were people plugged in. They looked serene and blissful. Like in a perpetual orgasm.
"What does it feel like?"
"Well why don't you try it?" The angel prescribed.
"Has anyone ever unplugged?" James wondered.
"No one wants out of heaven buddy. They're all connected and live as Gods in a world that can't be imagined. "
"So it's a hive mind?"
"It's heaven"
"Can you show me what hell looks like?"
"Why would you even want to see that?"
"I'm just curious"
"It's nothing special. Just worldly pleasures. Endless debauchery. Everyone is an individual. No communing like in heaven"
"What? I thought there'll be punishment eternal"
"Compared to heaven that's punishment"
"But if I join a hive I would cease to be who I am"
"Don't call it that. You would commune with the others and become more than yourself"
"Well let me take a quick look at hell"
James is transported to an island. He loses his inhibitions. Everyone is naked. Everyone is extremely horny. There's loud rave music playing. It's one huge orgy.
He notices there are two big booty hoes sucking on his pecker.
....
| "Look god I'm telling you, I can't enjoy heaven if I know there are people in hell"
"Thats not how heaven works, everyone enjoys heaven" the angel says to me
"Oh so you would mind control me to forget about everyone in hell? Or just make me not care any more!?"
"Thats... not how it works." The angel says
"Look I know you said I'm good and I need to go to heaven, but I want to speak to your manger"
"Do... do you think this is a fast food place!? this is the holy gates of heaven, and a lowly mortal can't just..."
"WHATS GOING ON OUT THERE" a booming voice speaks
"Don't worry about it god, I got it taken care of!" the angel replies
"NO, NO, I WANT TO SEE THIS"
"Look, all I'm saying is that I don't want to go to heaven if there are people in hell, If I let my self enjoy heaven when hell exists I wouldn't be worthy of heaven."
"YOU KNOW THAT WON"T REALLY HELP THE PEOPLE IN HELL RIGHT? JUST ADDS ONE MORE TO THE COUNT"
"Furthermore, why does hell last forever anyway. whats good punishing people with out..."
the clouds opened up under under the man. He gets his wish |
[WP] The cast of Finding Bigfoot actually find Bigfoot. | Christopher called out to the rest of the group, smile wide on his face.
"Just a little bit longer team, we're almost there."
Most of the team gave a small cheer. Rebecca didn't say anything. I can see a scowl on her face. This is *not* how it's supposed to be.
They hiked for another hour before stopping to eat lunch. Rebecca sat by herself.
"Do you think she's going to be okay?"
"I don't know, I'll check on her."
Sarah walked over and sat next to her. Rebecca was hunched over and her arms were crossed. Sarah did not put a hand on Rebecca's shoulder.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I don't know. I'm just a little depressed. Chris is kind of pissing me off with the cheeriness, y'know."
"Do you want me to tell him to turn it down?"
"No, it's fine. I'm the only one who minds it, so it wouldn't really be fair."
They hiked another hour. Chris crouched down and told the team to huddle around. He was pointing to an indentation in the ground.
"Look here gang! I think I might have just found a Big*foot* *foot*print!" he said, enunciating like a Saturday morning cartoon character. There was no footprint. It was just the place where one section of earth met another, and a slight shift in the tectonic plates had caused an imperfect alignment of the two. The cameramen took video, the rest of the team gave some oohs and aahs. Rebecca retreated silently into the woods.
Rebecca came to a clearing, and closed her eyes. I saw that she still believed, and emerged from the shadows. And I spoke, because she needed to hear my voice.
"You feel as if you have been looking for me for some time. Do not despair. All of these trials are part of the unalterable course of history toward enlightenment. Your path through the forest is not an easy one. From time to time you may feel as if you have been deserted by me, by all that I represent. And you will be mocked and misled. At times, you may feel hopelessness. But never lose your sense of wonder at the mysteries of the world. Let that wonder be your guide, your badge, and your warrant. Let it drive you to the ends of the earth. And no matter how flimsy the evidence, there will be nowhere that I cannot be found."
And with that, Rebecca opened her eyes. And as before, the clearing was empty. But a little ways off there was a cavern in the rock, and that was enough.
Sarah was starting to worry. Before Rebecca disappeared, she was looking as sad as Sarah had ever seen her before. Would she be okay?
"Oh there you Sarah, we thought we'd lost you for a minute there!"
"Sorry I wandered off, guys. I thought I heard Bigfoot rustling in the bushes. I didn't find him, but I did find this cool rock formation with a canopy of leaves, and I think it might be a Bigfoot breeding ground!"
And with that, they were off into the forest once more. | "What the hell is it?"
"Calm down, calm down. This is the real shit."
"What do you mean?! There isn't a real bigfoot, you dolt!"
"Well then what the hell is *that*?"
The apeman heard the two speaking, and rose to his feet. They were wrong about his size. His feet were huge, but proportioned to the rest of him. Roughly 8 feet tall, and *built*. The thing could outweigh a gorilla.
James charged him with a knife. Powerful hands lifted him off the ground, only to slam him back into it. Mark rolled to his feet and took off running. It was too late, though. As the monster threw him down and beat him into the grave, Mark suddenly realized why nobody had ever found it. | |
We've all see the tags floating around pants pockets, in product boxes, and sticked to various things we buy. Tell us a story about one of these anonymous "Inspector #7" types. For an added twist, pick either 1914, 2014, or 2114 and be subtle about which one. Let us figure out which century you're from. | [WP] You are "Inspector #7" at a factory in either 1914, 2014, or 2114. Write about a disagreement with co-worker "Inspector #5" without overtly telling us which century you're from. | The conveyor belt drones on. Robotically the inspectors check their items.
Pick up, spin around, Set down, Repeat. A slight smog fills the room. The only sound, besides the mechanical tinkering of the conveyor, is heavy breathing. You've become accustomed to the flickering lights and the constant smell of oil. The silence is welcomed and usual. For any type of chatting is forbidden. But then silence is broken.
"Jesus Christ."
You've sat next to five since you were chosen to be an Inspector. You risk a quick glance in his direction.
"Five, just keep your head down."
Completely neglecting your warning he stands.
"I just can't take this anymore!"
"Five you know what they'll do to you."
At this point he is yelling and flailing about.
"I need to get out!"
He throws his piece to the ground. Keeping your head down, you contemplate the risk of trying to calm five down. Deciding the risk was too great, you ignore his rants. A small red light begins blinking above the door; they've noticed. You understand what you need to do. So you ignore the opening of the double doors, the heavy footsteps and the sudden silence. What gains your attention comes a few minutes later. Another inspector, clad in the same gray jumpsuit as the rest of the inspectors, enters and takes the seat next to you. Without missing a beat, you look up, turning to him.
"Seven."
"Six."
You continue your work. Completely forgetting about five, and returning to your mundane life.
Pick up, spin around, Set down, Repeat. | “Hey Seven, would you take a gander at this?”
“Whatcha got, Five?”
“Well, this press just isn’t stamping the components right. I can’t send these out, they’re completely unacceptable.”
“They’re not that bad, look here.” Seven picked up the gear and wiped it with an oiled rag. “Once they go into finishing, the burrs will clean up and they’ll be right as rain.”
“These burrs won’t clean, I’m telling you. There’re pits in the face, too. Central will reject them, and I can’t have any more rejections. I’m on probation as it is.”
“What are you worried about? There’s enough to go around, isn’t there? With the war on, we all have plenty of work. Look at us, I’m 12. How old are you? 13? 14? Jesus, Five, you’d think you were going to starve to death if you lose this job.”
“I enjoy working. I know I don’t have to, but sometimes people don’t want to exist on general welfare. I want to be more than this.”
“We’re not designed to be more than this, my friend. We were put here to fit into the machine, like cogs in a wheel, like those gears you’re stamping. Put your head down, do your job, and to hell with the consequences. If you start thinking about things, you’ll get overwhelmed. Trust me, I know. Remember when I lost my brother last year? ”
“I know. Sad business, that. But what if I have pits and burrs like this shit my press just produced? What if I don’t fit? What if I’m too flawed to be useful?”
“You can’t worry about that stuff. We work, that’s what we do. Glory to the men whose faces are marred by sweat, and dust, and blood, and all that. Maybe if we succeed, we’ll all have something more to look forward to.”
“Yeah, I know you’re right. I just wish things were different.”
“Me too, buddy. Me too. That’s why we’re here. We can make a difference, but it starts with everyone performing their designated functions, remember? Central says we can’t win this war against the humans without bombing the planet into oblivion. So our only hope is to build these ships, and get the fuck outta here.”
“Roger that. I’ll clean this up as best I can and get the press going again.”
“Good man, Five. See you tomorrow.” |
For clarification:
Blood cells, hormones, platlets, heart rate, bone growth, etc. | [WP] A superhero who's power is that he can control %100 of his body. | "Good evening, and welcome to 'The Superhero Decision', I'm your host Trent Anderson. Joining me tonight is a man you all know well, the multi-talented hero of Detroit, Evo. Evo, welcome to the program."
"Thank you, Trent."
"As you all know, Evo has been member of the Detroit Five for seven years now, but recently announced his intention to pursue offers from other cities. But first, for viewers who might not be aware, Evo can you give us a run-down of your power set."
"Sure, Trent. The one thing I would like to make clear from the start is that my powers are not evolutionary based, like Galapagos Man or Ms. Mendel. The end result is very comparable, but my powers are actually based on having 100% control over every molecule of my body. It grants me a wider array of powers, that at the same time are more powerful as well."
"Can you give us an example?"
"Well...let's take Ms. Mendel's famous saving of 8 school children in Lima last year. As you recall, The Chemist was using nitroglycerin rain to attack the city, and Ms. Mendel used her powers to make her skin diamond hard, while simultaneously growing two large, umbrella-shaped protrusions from her neck, allowing the children to take cover. An incredibly smart and fearless move, to be sure. Ms. Mendel is a credit to the hero community. If I had been in that situation, however, I would have been able to turn my entire body into an umbrella, or perhaps a fully enclosed shelter. Again, similar tactics, but my powers might have been more effective at blocking shrapnel from the surrounding explosions, which could have saved Sally Jefferson's leg."
"So you're saying you would have been able to handle the situation better than Ms. Mendel?"
"Please, don't misunderstand, I'm not saying Ms. Mendel did anything wrong. She's a true hero in every sense of the word. I'm simply using this incident to help highlight how my powers work."
"How do you feel about leaving Detroit? You grew up there, trained there, spent seven years of your career protecting her citizens. Any regrets?"
"It's hard, Trent, it really is. I love Detroit and I always will. I just feel it's time for me to explore my options and take my career to the next level."
"There are rumors that you were not satisfied with the other members of the Detroit Five; angry at the Detroit Hero Commission for not drafting/signing higher quality heroes."
"Absolutely not true. The Human Calculator, Wombat Man, Lily Alabaster, and Captain Blue were all great teammates. My decision has nothing to do with their abilities, and I wish them good luck in their future endeavors. I know the Commission will find new heroes to join them that are up to the challenge."
"So, you've had many offers, and you've narrowed them down to three."
"I have."
"Tokyo. Ancestral Blade is rumored to be close to retirement. They have a real up-and-comer in the Frozen Tornado."
"They do. I've seen Fro-To work, he's fantastic. And Ancestral Blade...well what can you say? I can remember watching him single-handedly defeat The Crimson League on Christmas Day, 1999."
"Tulsa, Oklahoma. Only recently have they begun to field their own team, rather than relying on the Boomer Sooners out of Oklahoma City. Not a single member with more than 3 years field experience."
"They're raw, but they have all kinds of talent. They say that Scarletta moves so fast, even high speed cameras can't track her. I think under my leadership she would be a fantastic hero."
"Do I sense a hint of infatuation there?"
"Stop it, Trent! You know I'm happily married! Don't you go getting me in trouble!"
"I kid, of course. And finally, the city most are considering the favorite...Los Angeles, California. Comments, Evo?"
"I mean, it's the Mecca, right? All the best and most dangerous villains, the chance to work with two legends like Sonic and Miss Marble. And hey, wouldn't suck to save the life of Tom Cruise, huh?"
"So what's it going to be, Evo. We've reached that time in the program, are you ready to announce your choice?"
"I am. It's been a hard decision, something I've really struggled with, but I feel that I have to take my talents to Long Beach."
"Wait...Long Beach? Do you mean Los Angeles?"
"Yeah...Los Angeles. I mean, Long Beach is part of LA, right?"
"Well, it is I guess, it's definitely part of the metro area."
"I thought that it was like New York, where people talk about Brooklyn, Queens, Manhattan."
"Yeah, I don't think they really do that as much out in LA. People in Long Beach don't say, 'Oh I'm from Long Beach', they say, 'I'm from LA'".
"....oh...."
"Well, anyway, LOS ANGELES! Evo is coming to your town! When you flying out?"
"Soon as I get out of here and build me some wings, I suppose. Might stop by Vegas on the way out, see my man Wolfgang at Spago."
"That's great. Well, thanks for joining us tonight, folks, and thank you to the kids from Orphans of Supervillains behind us there, who will be receiving a donation check tonight for their quiet participation. I'm Trent Anderson, have a heroic night!" | Steve sat on his couch staring out into space. He looked down to his hand watch. It was getting late and Steve had spent the entire day on his couch. "People need food." he mumbled to him self. He got him self up using everything he had in his body. All he had left in his house were a few boxes of cereal. He took his favorite brand down from the cupboard. All the bowls in the house were dirty, so he ate it strait from the box. Once he was satisfied he went back to the couch so he could continue.
Steve was once a hero, using his power to protect the weak. He was strong and people were glad to have him. The city was just a little bit safer with him around.
Three weeks had passed sense he vanished. Nobody knew where their hero has gone. Some believed he had gotten him self killed. He wasn't the strongest one out there. As time went on the people of his city forgot about him. Life went on nearly unchanged when he left. He was missed by few.
There is a reason something are left out of the control on the human mind. People can lose control and end up abusing such an ability. Steve had made a mistake while trying to fine what he had control over. He learned that he had control over the neurotransmitters in his brain. The small amount of dopamine that he released set off a chain reaction. After feeling this small high he decided that he need more.
His power became a drug to him. He would spend all of his time forcing more and more of the hormone out. Heroism couldn't compete with what he felt when he released more dopamine.
Now he spends his time sitting around on his couch. Abusing his power for days on end. The outside world has no meaning to him any more. |
[WP] After the apocalypse, the only remaining survivors are the residents of the Playboy Mansion. Describe civilization 500 years later. | Milly shivered in anticipation as she saw the pink box on her bed. It had finally arrived. The teen closed the door behind her and rubbed the goose bumps from her arms before reverently lifting the lid. She lifted her graduation outfit and held it over her hour-glass figure and turned toward the mirror. The green satin clashed with her perfectly manicured red fingernails, but, other than that, it was perfect.
In a flash, she had pulled off her shorts and t-shirt and pulled on the black stockings, tailored leotard and matching stilettos. She held her breathe and pushed the bunny-ear headband over her head. Honey-colored curls fell over the band, and she grinned.
*Perfect* she whispered. She offered a quick prayer of thanks to the holy bunny, savior of all, then hurried downstairs to show her parents.
“Oh, Milly, you look gorgeous,” her mother said. “By Father Hef, we’re so proud of you. I’m so glad you earned the green. It looks great against your skin.”
“Thanks, Mom,” she said, giving her a quick hug.
Dad put down his weights and pulled his robe over tight around him – keeping all sweat carefully contained – before giving her a hug as well.
“You look great, sweetheart. I still can’t believe my little girl is the class valedictorian and will wear the green bunny suit. But don’t forget you still have your final physical fitness measurements next week, then you only have one month off before starting your internship at the surgical center.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Dad. I remember. I won’t party *too* hard in my free months. Plus, someone’s got to keep you and mom looking good.”
“You better believe it,” Mom said. “I’m counting on you, Milly. You better not let me get old. I can’t run the power plant if I'm sagging all over the place!”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Milly said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll take good care of you.”
Dad turned her toward the stairs and shooed her toward them.
“OK, girls, enough gabbing. Get up stairs and change before you get that suit dirty. I don’t want to see a speck of dirt on it when you walk across the stage.”
“Yes, Dad.”
She looked down the stairs for just a moment to see her dad kiss her mom on the cheek before he headed out to the maintenance crew. After her free month, she’d have to pick a man, someone just as strong as her dad, so he could do all the heavy lifting and give her beautiful children. After all, every kid knew it took a woman’s brains and a man’s strength to build society, but it never hurt to be gorgeous too.
---
-172
Not sure where exactly I was going with this | T
he cabin door opened. Two men walked in, brandishing weapons.
“Who the hell are you?” asked Bill.
Delilah lay behind him.
“We’ve come to rescue you,” said the first man. “We’re taking you to a city outside Los Angeles known as Free City. It’s safe there.”
Another man walked in. They all had on black military attire. The one in the middle had blond hair and a crew cut. The man to his right was bald. The man to his left had dreadlocks.
“Now, wait just a moment,” said Bill. “We don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Let me introduce you to my compadres,” said the blond one. “I’m Max. This is Philip to my left and Carl to my right. Now you can either go easy or go hard. There’s a new ordinance in our city that we pick up survivors like you. We need you to help run the place.”
“Well, we ain’t leaving,” said Bill.
“Looks like they want it the hard way, boys. Grab the girl,” said Max.
The two men grabbed Delilah pushed her against the wall of the cabin. She cried. Carl unzipped his pants and started to unzip her jeans.
“No,” said Delilah.
“Okay already, we’ll go with you peacefully,” said Bill.
“Oh, you mean this?” asked Max. “We were going to do this anyways.”
•
Bill and Delilah sat near the bow of the warship.
“Here’s some bread and water,” said Max. “Think of us as your saviors.”
He walked away. Within a week’s time they reached Free City. The city is laid in ruin. Sheet metal is used to construct watchtowers. Everything is rusted and people wear tattered clothes. The ground is muddy.
“Well, here we are,” said Max.
Delilah and Bill followed Max.
“You’re going to be what some would call slaves,” said Max. “You work for food. That’s it. There’s no sense in trying to bring justice here. A band of mercenaries run this operation and we will shoot you on sight if you start trouble. Right here is where you can get your haircut, if you have money.”
They walked a little further.
“Here is the bar,” said Max. “There’s your slave house down the road. It’s not pretty when it rains but other than that it should be fine. Because I like your woman so much I’ll give you 50 bucks. You can spend it however you like. Here’s your house. Work starts at eight so show up outside in the morning.”
He walked off.
“Let’s go to the bar,” said Bill.
They walked into the pub. It was pretty much empty except for a few military personnel in the corner making a lot of noise. Delilah and Bill took the booth farthest away from them.
“We have to get out of here,” said Delilah.
“I know. I know. But how?” asked Bill.
“We need to leave before they realize we’re slaves. Right now we just look like common folk,” said Delilah.
“Okay,” said Bill. “Let’s go.”
They walked out of the bar and made for the entrance of the city. As they walked past the entrance they expected to hear someone shout at them. That never happened, so they continued walking. They followed the road until it was night. They set up camp in the forest beside the road. A car pulled up and stopped near where they were. A spotlight was attached to the back of the car. The car stopped in front of two men who were walking along the road.
“Hey,” said the man in the car. “We’re looking for some prisoners. They seemed to have escaped. You see anyone walk past you?”
“No,” said the pedestrian. “We haven’t seen anyone.”
“Okay, then,” said the man in the car. He drove up the road and out of sight.
“Shoot, they call it Free City,” said Bill. “What a joke.”
“Where are we heading?” asked Delilah.
“Somewhere away from here. We’ll head up the road and see if a city or refuge is there.”
“That’s a shit idea.”
“You got a better plan?”
“No, but it’s still a shit idea.”
Bill and Delilah eventually reached Los Angeles.
“We need to go somewhere safe.”
“What’s that you got in your hand?”
“It’s a star map. Shows you where the celebrities live.”
“Gimme that. The Playboy Mansion. Ain’t no place safer than that. They probably got security guards and tons of hot women lounging around the pool. Hell, we may even meet Hugh Hefner. What do you think about that?”
“I think it sounds nice if you’re a man.”
“It’s safe. They probably got gates to keep out all the creatures.”
“Demons.”
“That’s what I said. All the demons.”
“Okay, then. If you think it best.”
They walked a few blocks until they reached the front gate. They crawled under the gate and walked up the driveway. There was a hill to the left of them where the grass was brown. They walked up to the front of the house. The fountain at the center of the driveway was turned off. Everything else seemed normal. There were no windows broken or any sign of burglary.
“Why ain’t anyone stole from this place yet?” asked Delilah.
“Nothing to steal but food and water,” said Bill. “People probably took what they could from their own homes and left the city.”
“Where are all them creatures? I haven’t seen too many of them since we arrived.”
“They’re dying off like they were back home. Who knows why.”
“Jesus, Bill. That’s why. Jesus couldn’t let us suffer like this for much longer.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I am right.”
“That’s what I said. You’re right.”
“Let’s go inside and see if we can find some food and water.”
“I was expecting a more friendly atmosphere.”
Delilah slapped the back of his head.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” asked Delilah.
“You know, like naked chicks,” said Bill.
She slapped the back of his head again.
“You know, Bill, sometimes I think you have dung for brains.”
They walked to the front door. It was locked. They walked around the house.
“One of these doors got to open,” said Bill. “How else did everyone leave?”
They went to the side door, where the cooks and butlers watched television on their breaks. They tried the door and it was open.
“See?” said Bill.
“Hush,” said Delilah.
They walked in and turned right. They were in the kitchen. They checked all the cupboards but nothing was there. The kitchen was empty of food. They went into the butlers’ pantry. They checked the refrigerator, but that too was empty.
“Dang it,” said Bill. “Ain’t nothing here to eat or drink.”
“Let’s keep looking, honey,” said Delilah.
They went through the living room and into the great hall. A giant chandelier hung over the white marble floors.
“Maybe in there,” said Delilah.
She pointed to the movie room. They walked in and heard something peculiar. They heard voices but didn’t know from where. Bill put his finger to his mouth. They moved quietly until the voices were louder. They were coming from inside the wall.
There must be a switch, thought Bill. Bill felt around the walls for a lever or something, until he gave up. He sat down against the wall and his head hit the back of a button. A loud buzz was heard and he fell backward as a secret door opened.
“Who’s there?” said a voice.
“It’s just me and my wife,” said Bill. “We’re looking for food and water.”
A man walked up the stairs pointing a gun. He aimed it at Delilah and Bill.
“There’s no need for that. If you want us to leave, we’ll leave,” said Bill.
Another voice called from below.
“Make sure they’re not armed and let them in,” the voice said.
“Yes sir,” said the security guard. He pointed his gun upstairs. “Move.”
Bill and Delilah walked up the stairs. They were searched.
“They’re clear,” said the security guard.
“Bring them down,” said the voice.
They walked down the stairs and saw Hugh Hefner and Crystal Hefner sitting on a mattress. There were two others they did not recognize.
“Hello,” said Hef. “This is my wife, Crystal, my brother, Keith, and his wife, Caya.”
“Nice to meet you all,” said Bill.
“A pleasure to meet you,” said Delilah.
“You’re just in time for backgammon,” said Hef.
| |
[WP] There is a wall, and on that wall every 24 hours it will state 3 words that will happen to one of the many who visit it that day. | For years the wall has been more of a source of entertainment than a massanger of prophecies. The predoctionws were never specific and could mean anything. Inly sometimes you'd get something like "meet the one" or "win the loterry"
But this morning when the guard visited the wall before he opened the gate it said "all will die"
Just three words. As usual. And yet they are so much more than any prophecy before.
The guard stood in terror, it was so obvious what it COULD mean and if it does it would be their blood on his hands. But then again, if it means something else he wiuld make lots of noise about nothing.
He called up his supervisor who told him to open zhe gates. But tell people before hand what the wall sais so they can decide ehether they want to go in.
And so the guard sits all day at the front gate. Telling tourists that the wall predicts death to all who enter. He gives his last day so others may live.
Not one petson enters. All turn away. Some apologize, some offer kind words, others are just concernd about here to go instead
As night draws near the watchman closes the gates and one last time past the wall. When he looks up at the big black letters he sees something that never happened before. Under the three words is one more word. Smaller and rather a dirty white than grey.
All it sais is "someday"
Wrote this on my phone. Ignore typos | Visit this wall.
Mustard stains shirt.
Pills run out.
Free pizza slice.
Flight is delayed.
Too many candles.
Very last seat.
Fired on Tuesday.
Rain, bring umbrella.
Construction on 9th.
Cops show up.
Emily leaves you.
Congratulations, World Champions!
Book on sale.
They don't die. | |
[WP] There is a wall, and on that wall every 24 hours it will state 3 words that will happen to one of the many who visit it that day. | It just *happened*. Giant words in Hebrew just appeared on the Western Wall in Jerusalem. A custodian tried to scrub it off, but it was almost as if the stone itself had changed colors. All it said was "Come, my children." Of course, when the news got out, Jews swarmed towards the Holy Land, believing it to finally herald the coming of the long-awaited Messiah. Plane tickets to Israel were sold out for almost an entire month, with impromptu pilgrimages suddenly being thrown together. As millions of the sons of Abraham streamed into Jerusalem, they packed the city the likes of which were probably not seen since before the Babylonian Exile.
About a week after the words appeared, there were about 2.4 million Jews of assorted races, nationalities, and sects in Jerusalem and the surrounding area - over three times the city's population. It was a Saturday, so of them, especially the Hasidics, were simply sitting around, reading, admiring the view, or praying in a horribly overcrowded synagogue. A little Jewish boy, trying to hold on his yarmulke as he ran, sprinted through the streets, yelling that the writing on the wall had changed. Suddenly, men were streaming out of hotels, tents, temples, scurrying in a frenzy towards the holy site. When they all arrived, the words were there, clear as day. They read, "Elias Isaac Goldberg." Fortunately, there was only one man in the crowd with that name. He was a 45 year old rather overweight stockbroker from Toronto, the wiry blond hair on his head beginning to thin. A pair of glasses (or spectacles, as he preferred to say) were perched on the brim of his nose, and he had on a white business shirt with rather noticeable stains from the 90 degree heat. Most of the time, people remarked that he looked like a combination of Rob Ford and Phillip Seymour Hoffman. The crowd parted for him like the Red Sea, and he nervously walked forward to the wall. Elias put his hand on the block in front of him, as the writing above him disappeared. It reemerged in very small print at his eye level. He leaned closer to take a look at the writing, which simply said "Heaven awaits you." Now, why would it say that? As Elias pondered, he failed to notice that his leaning put pressure on the (load-bearing) block, which caused a crack to radiate upwards. The wall was starting to collapse. When he noticed the startled gasps of the people behind him, Elias looked up to see a rock almost as large as himself falling straight towards him.
The second-to-last thing that went through Elias' mind was that he managed to find out what the words meant. | Visit this wall.
Mustard stains shirt.
Pills run out.
Free pizza slice.
Flight is delayed.
Too many candles.
Very last seat.
Fired on Tuesday.
Rain, bring umbrella.
Construction on 9th.
Cops show up.
Emily leaves you.
Congratulations, World Champions!
Book on sale.
They don't die. | |
[WP] You live in a world where you can see the exact date when everyone is going to die except for yourself, and one day people start being really nice to you. | Bob noticed a change in the way that people were treating him. It was subtle, but obvious. More help was being offered to do mundane tasks. His wife held him a little bit longer as he left for work. His kids talked in whispers in the other room and got suddenly quiet when he would enter. The youngest said, "Are you old, Dad?" She had never said that to him before.
It dawned on Bob what was happening as he entered work. He had an email from HR that he left unopened, subject line ominous. This is it, Bob said to himself. My Dad always said I should live every day of my life as if it were my last, and now it's time.
The first few hours were sullen. Too much to do, Bob thought. Too much to get ready for those who will bear my financial burdens when I'm gone.
The new few hours brought acceptance. He decided to leave work and spend time with his family. There was nothing else on his bucket list that seemed worthwhile. Only his family mattered.
Bob drove home slowly, kids still at school. He paused as he unlocked the front door. His heart ached, he felt a taste of metal in his mouth. He'd hold it together for his family.
"I'm home, sweetie."
No answer. He entered the kitchen. His wife was poised over a birthday cake, frosting dripping off of the kitchen knife.
"Boy, you are home early," she said. "This was supposed to be a surprise." | 'Hmm. October 4th, 2014. Poor sap.' I thought to myself, looking at the said person. My neighbor or his family really didn't looked troubled, however. They must have prepared for it. After all, no one was really alerted by death at all.
I think I read a similar situation in a book. Was it a fantasy-adventure book? I forgot, but I do remember something about talking horses and stuff. Meh. I'll remember some time, anyway. As I finished kicking the shoe for my foot to snugly fit in, my ears picked up a distinct, gruff voice from my back.
"Have a nice day in school." My dad waved at me. Odd. He never was the hello-sort-of-person. I raised my eyebrow at him, only for him to slightly smile back at me.
'Really strange here.' I thought to myself again. I grabbed my car key hanging from a small hook next to the door. "I'm going," I notified my parents.
"Dear, you forgot your bag!" My mom alerted me. Remembering my bag in the porch, I rushed inside the house and reached for the bag. But before I could grab the bag, my mom pulled me in for this motherly hug, the one where it makes you feel all fuzzy and warm and stuff. "Hope you have a nice day."
"Umm..." I grabbed my bag, and headed out for my car. "Sure."
In twenty minutes, I arrived at the school. Parking my car in the student driveway, I briskly left the car and headed straight for my class. I was never the social type of person, and thus I didn't have anyone to talk to before the school started. Yes, I'm depressing. Deal with it.
But for once, I thought I was popular in school. I'm not sure what made me think of that absurd idea, but people were looking at me with this certain gaze. I can't describe it. People would just take one glance at me, then they would have various looks. I didn't take full notice of it, as I just walked straight to my class.
And there's this kindness emanating from the people. Like, for example:
"Hey there bro!" My somewhat-friend approached me with his usual loud greeting. He gave me a hug-and-pat-in-the-back thingy. He doesn't do this kind of things, I know. But I guess that did liven up my mood, as I was still stuck up on the final exam I messed up yesterday.
"I think you deserve this extra credit." My teacher, who was generally known as the tight-ass, was oddly friendly with me. I know I'm not the brightest kid in the class, but I was pretty sure that I messed up that question. And what kind of teacher gives extra credits in the final exam? But I quickly thanked him before he changed his mind. I really was desperate for the grade, I guess.
People smiled at me. 'Strange.' I kept thinking to myself today. Even after the end of school, as students streamed out of the school, people I never even knew waved at me and smiled every now and then.
After receiving a shower of goodbyes and smiles, I reached my car with a brighter mood. "I guess today wasn't so bad." I happily muttered to myself, grabbing the key in my pocket.
'Was something special about today?' I mindlessly drove my car. Today was so great. Not that I didn't have a great day, mind you. But this was beyond. So I drove to my home with this calm, serene mood I never had before.
Until I saw the truck about hundred meters away from me. I swear, I didn't see that truck at all!
"What the fu-" I hastily grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it to the direction I wanted the car to go. Instead, as if the car was possessed, my car drove straight for the truck, albeit faster this time. I tried to take off the seat belt, but after several unsuccessful clicks, I realized the belt was jammed.
"What are the odds?" I angrily questioned myself. Instead of focusing the belt, I went for the steering wheel, hoping for a small curve away from the truck.
But nothing worked. I couldn't escape, car won't work, and this one day where everything seemed to work fine for me, was screwing me up majestically. "What a great, messed up day..." I dejectedly muttered to myself like the usual me.
"It's like my time is near..." I paused. Wait a second. This niceness. All this strange stuff today. Ah. I think I already figured out what was happening to me. 'Finally time, you dense brain.' I inwardly scolded myself.
Well, what do you know. Apparently, my time was over. I released the steering wheel of my car from my grasp. The truck felt so close to my car. Next thing I saw was just white lights.
Well then, goodby- | |
[WP] A man accidentally kills his town's most psychotic supervillian; he then finds his town's superhero, drunk and in tears, at his house a couple of days later. | It never used to be this bad, let me tell ya.
Back in the day, the capes, they all had a code, truth, justice, American way, all of that nonsense. Never thought much of it until it fell by the wayside, but it’s pretty easy to see these days it must’ve meant something. Or hell, maybe this is just where it was always leading and weren’t no one smart enough to turn us right the hell around when it was a thing that could be turned.
Nowadays they’re everywhere, and it’s not just the numbers, either. Used to be, they all kept to themselves, had a satellite station orbiting the planet looking down from on high thinking they were better’n your average Joe. Idiots. Course, maybe if they still had a station, or at least if they just had their one big group, there wouldn’t be teams of EMTs sorting through the heaps that used to be buildings down at one of their latest pissing contests.
I don’t know why the hell I’m even thinking about this shit any more, it’s probably that kid, he couldn’t have been older’n twenty, dumb shit. Comes around a corner with a knife in his hand talking to me-some stupid old man just on his way home from the liquor store with a bottle of cheap vodka-about traditions and earning his legacy, some half-cocked ideas about earning his stripes in blood. Couldn’t even say what came over me when he lunged. Maybe it was cause he was dressed up like The Monster-one of the old big bads, one of the biggest bads-and laughing his head off about respect and dues, or shit maybe it was just reflexes.
Either way he went down really fast, for all the fear of seeing someone dressed like The Monster coming at me-Christ did he ever look just like that son of a bitch-he had the fight sense of an excited poodle. Damn waste of good vodka, all over the ground. mixed with this young fool’s blood. Weren’t no one around, so I just got out of there, but I should have known that it wouldn’t be the end. These things never just end.
I swear though, he had that same look in his eyes…
So there I am, couple of days later, thinknig I’m in the clear, another body found in the street, bit of a story n the news, turns out that really was The Monster’s kid. Hard to imagine a willing woman putting herself out there for that jerk, at least one who survived. Just an old fool kidding himself, there’s no way whoever it was was willing. Not enough vodka to blot that one out.
I hear it even though I’m not supposed to, that small click that let’s you know your lock’s just been picked. Doc says my ears are going but he don’t know shit. Before the door opens I’ve got the bottle flipped around-another bottle? Christ I’m getting an MO going-and ready to bring down on the skull of the dumb punk who thinks he’s going to rob the frail old codger at the end of the street.
I almost do it too, but it’s a lot harder to bring yourself to kill a girl… Especially a crying girl. Especially a crying girl dressed up like Madame Justice. Rookie mistake, I had the drop on her and then I let her see me with the bottle still raised and tackle me. I feel that familiar snap that means something is fractured, judging by the searing pain, that’s my arm made useless right there. I just barely manage to roll on my back in time to see her diving on top of me. If it weren’t for muscle memory I’d already be a dead man, the way she brings that Staff of Justice down, but I can smell the booze on her breath, and I manage to roll my head to the side and bring my legs up for a solid hit from behind she probably wasn’t expecting from an old fart like me. This old fart still has some fight in him, though, and this is my damn house.
So there I am rolling around with this girl on my floor, looks like she’s about half past puberty, few weeks back I mighta been writing about this in my dream journal or some pansy shit like that. She fast, and when I try to make another solid kick at her she gets out of the way and jabs at my fucked up arm. Smart, someone taught her well. Come to think of it, she does look a lot like Madame Justice…
“Cassie?”
She stops in her tracks. Hit it on the head, then. Stupid blind old man, of course that’s Cassie. Of course she’d want to take after her mother. If I weren’t so busy trying to duke it out with a kid who shouldn’t even be drinking, I could have put it together in time to stop this silliness before my arm was in dire need of a split.
“How… I mean…”
“Relax girl.” I say, trying to sound like she didn’t knock the crap out of me. Like she wouldn’t have probably had me beat if she didn’t have that brown bottle flu stumble. “How’s your mother doing? I haven’t seen Maggie in years. You neither, for that matter.”
Now she looks proper confused. I used to get off on that kind of shit, making people wonder how in the hell I’d pieced together stuff. Actually, it still feels kinda good. “The last time I saw you you were barely even walking. Why on God’s green earth are you trying to break into my house and crack my skull open, child?”
Oh Christ, there go the tears again. Next thing I know she’s sitting on my couch, bawling her little eyes out about how she was applying to one of those new super societies and they told her she had to deal with this kid calling himself ‘The Son of the Monster’ or she would never get accepted into their elitist ranks. Says she found his body, and made a snap decision to take credit for it, with no one around and all, but these days there’s cameras everywhere, and when people look into it, there’s me with my alcoholic surprise. She even laughs a little bit saying The Brotherhood-that’s what these young punks are calling themselves now-were joking that they should take me in instead of her, told her she’d never get a spot.
It’s making some kind of teenage sense to me now. She goes out, gets a few drinks, can’t tell mommy she didn’t make it into the legion of assholes, has a few more, gets it in her head maybe knocking me off will prove herself to these new cape wannabees. All of it’s stupid, of course, but what do you expect from a kid who doesn’t have any guidance. I do it almost before I know what it is I’m doing and the wall slides back revealing a lot of gear. Never had the cash for a proper lair or nothing, but a slideaway wall was actually pretty reasonable after a few talks with the guy who worked the hardware store at the time.
Stupid things really, haven’t looked at them in more’n a decade. Well mostly, things still need dusting and it’s only proper to make sure things still work, time to time. Now Cassie’s eyes light up and she just looks up at me like she broke the arm of the big man himself. “C…..Captain… Hero?” Christ what a stupid name. If I could go back all those years and slap young me in the face for picking it, I damn well would.
“Yeah, once upon a time. Look kid, not for nothing, but if you want, I can… I don’t know, train you? You’ve got some of your mother’s skill for sure, but if you’re going to be a hero proper, and not, I repeat NOT one of those talentless schmoes wouldn’t even make it past the first stage of testing for The Legion, you’re going to need a bit more polishing… and a bit less booze, you smell like you slept in a bus station.”
‘Shut it old man, you’re no good to anyone.’ ‘You don’t know a god damned thing about me you decrepit sack of shit.’ ‘What is a sad old bastard like you going to teach me, you can’t even put on your shoes with that busted up arm of yours!’ I was expecting one of those, not those big doe eyes going up and down as she nodded enthusiastically, saying she’ll come back tomorrow bright and early and all dried out.
Not how I expected today to turn out, but broken arm and all, I’ve had worse days. I just hope I can see the looks on those clowns’ faces when they see what a real hero looks like for the first time. Hell, maybe this’ll even be fun.
| I stepped out of the taxi into a deep puddle in the gutter outside my townhouse. A brisk spring shower made it the perfect day for a funeral. I tipped the cabbie five dollars and sent him on his way to torment his next fare with strange food smells and troubling political views.
I threw up the beer and whiskey that remained in my stomach into the bushes outside my living room window. Shellie had taken the kids to her sister’s for the week; the press had been following them leading up to my DUI arraignment so I wouldn't have to worry about cleaning it up until morning. As I pulled my teary face up from the perfectly manicured thrush, I saw an ominous blue light emanating from my living room.
“Fuck, left the TV on again.” I thought to myself.
I dropped my keys on the way up the three stairs leading to my front door. As a bent down to retrieve them, I bumped my head on the doorframe and fell forward hard onto my left knee.
“Goddammit.” I said aloud and the door swung open unfettered by any semblance of a locking mechanism. I did not remember leaving that morning and had no idea if I remembered to lock the door.
My dress shoes squeaked as they made their way across the wet tile of my foyer. I remember when Shellie thought she could save on installation by installing them herself. I’m pretty sure that every single one of those tiles were crooked. I smiled to myself as I dropped my dripping trench coat onto the tiles with a cold, wet splat.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see the rebroadcast of the 11 o’clock news. That square jaw mannequin with the third grade vocabulary was attempting inane chatter with his vacant co-anchor.
“You missed the top story.”
I swung around too quickly. My shoes squeaked as they slipped on the tile and I hit them hard with a thud. I looked up into my living room. My television was still blaring in front of my oversized chair that was somehow being dwarfed by the man that had been poured into it. Though his shoulders were crestfallen and slumped, they still crossed the border of both sides of the chair that Shellie and I had used as a love seat on many occasions.
“What?” I managed to blurt out as I became frightfully aware that I did not own a gun.
“The top story.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“It was about the funeral that you went to. Shame on you for that, by the way. You may as well have spit in that poor widow’s face.”
I grabbed the souvenir walking stick from our family trip to Yellowstone the previous summer and quietly stepped forward onto the plush carpet of the living room. The oversized man did not move, I keep a safe distance as I move around the chair to face him, sitting in my chair was the mannequin from the newscast and several empty bottles of Jack Daniels.
“Do you even know his name?” He said, unfazed by the weapon that I wielded.
“Whose?”
“The man you hit with your car.”
“Why the fuck are you in my house?”
“His name. Do you know it.”
“Yes, I fucking know his name.”
“Say it.”
I paused for a moment. Wondering why a second rate newscaster was drunk in my living room, trying to interview me for a camera crew that was not there. He sat forward and shouted:
“Say his fucking name!”
“Simon LaGrousse.”
“No! Say his real name.”
“I-I-I don’t know——“
The massive man leapt forward so fast that I suddenly found myself with his ham of a hand around my throat pushing me again the wall on the other side of the room.
“His real name was The Vicar.”
Even with the haze of booze and the blood collecting in my head, I knew who The Vicar was. Wanted for 47 counts of murder in 1997, leaving manifestos behind, claiming to be the second in command to Christ. Taunting the team of vigilantes that were patrolling the alleyways at night.
“Who?” I spat out through the pressure on my throat.
“He tortured and mutilated 57 people, killed 47 of them. One of whom was my daughter”
Through the tears pooling in my eyes I could see that his tears were rolling down his face and on to his wrinkled suit.
“And you killed him.”
My eyes bulged as he squeezed harder. Suddenly, he let go and I fell into a slump on the floor. He backed away and back into the light of the television displaying the “off air” title card, signifying that the clock had passed two.
“Every night. Every night we looked for him. He knew I was looking for him. He knew who she was and who I was when he took her.”
He stumbled in the blue light of the television. His massive frame draped in the weight gain of middle age and alcoholism.
“You know, when we found her left index finger, it was still warm. He left a new one for us every night for a week and a half, tied with a bow made out of her pyjamas. But her left index finger; that one we were close, it had only been a few minutes. It was that glimmer of hope that lasted me until we found her head behind a dumpster on Lexington.”
I dry heaved into the carpet. Grasping for air, I managed to blurt out:
“So why are you here? Why are you coming after me? Shouldn’t you be glad that the monster is dead?”
“Because it should have been me! He doesn’t deserve a random death. Her death wasn’t random, why should his be? He doesn’t deserve to die like a human being. He should have been slaughtered like the animal that he is. I should have killed him with my bare hands.”
I sniffled and rolled on to my back and stared at the ceiling and massaged my throat, I was starting to breath normally again.
“But no. You let him get away. He got to live a normal life for years and then you came along and killed him, you useless drunk fuck. Find him was my life’s work and you took that away from me.”
“It was an act of God that put him——“
Suddenly I was off the ground and pinned between the wall and the ceiling. The pressure of his armed against my chest made it feel like it was caught in a vice. All of the air instantly left my body once again.
“Don’t you mention God to me. The acts you speak of are of no one’s work but of a sadistic piece of shit that let that monster kill my daughter.”
With the last remaining air in my lungs I manage to push out what I thought would be my last words:
“Then kill me.”
The man stared at me for a moment. Tightened his grip a bit, then dropped me once again. He stumbled back and fell back into the living room chair. He reached around the back of the oversized chair to find another bottle of whiskey. I summon enough strength to crawl back onto the wet tile to leave the broken man to his business. | |
[WP] A man accidentally kills his town's most psychotic supervillian; he then finds his town's superhero, drunk and in tears, at his house a couple of days later. | there was a man at my door, he told me he was selling newspapers, I told him I was already subscribed to the local paper and went to close the door, he didn't move, told me that I might want to have a look at today's headline, it read: "Mass Murder, Thousands Dead In Ensuing Rockslide from... Blast Radius... culprit..." I recognized the man after he lowered the paper. I recognized the culprit. He told me that this was the crown of glory he'd wear to his grave, his greatest work yet, and he laughed. He looked different without the makeup, but he carried that same lifeless grin I saw on the news most nights. He looked different with the knife in his chest. I swear it was only self defense. I'm not the kind of man to kill, I swear it. He fell dead all the same landing grin down on my doorstep. I forgot to close the door.
The police came and went, cleaned up really well, congratulated me. They were jubilant, I was in shock. I didn't come back to earth until after they'd asked me questions, taken the body and left.
I found him sitting at my table that night. He looked different without the mask, he was hunched under the overhead lamp and he wasn't moving. Just sitting.
"How did you get in?"
He just looked at me.
"Did he shake your hand?"
I was confused. "Did who? Yeah they shook my hand, showered me with all sorts of praise and reassurance, told me I'd get some sort of medal for my service, don't be afraid they said, you've done a good thing."
"you probably expect I'm thankful too."
"I don't want your thanks, you know what it's like to kill a man. I can't get his damn laugh out of my head, I'm telling you I didn't ask for this, the way the knife felt when I..."
He pushed the chair back and strode over to me, I felt the weight of his hand, heavy on my shoulder. His breath was rank with booze.
"I'm only here to congratulate you, you've finally got the better of me, killed the only man with the information I need to stop those bombs from going off in the mountains and killing thousands, I should end you. But you're right, I know what it's like to kill a man. I know the pain you'll feel. All that blood's on your head."
On his way out the door he reached into my mailbox and threw a newspaper at my feet.
I was reeling, but I read through each word of that horrific story and noticed the date, it was tomorrow. It was dated for tomorrow.
| I stepped out of the taxi into a deep puddle in the gutter outside my townhouse. A brisk spring shower made it the perfect day for a funeral. I tipped the cabbie five dollars and sent him on his way to torment his next fare with strange food smells and troubling political views.
I threw up the beer and whiskey that remained in my stomach into the bushes outside my living room window. Shellie had taken the kids to her sister’s for the week; the press had been following them leading up to my DUI arraignment so I wouldn't have to worry about cleaning it up until morning. As I pulled my teary face up from the perfectly manicured thrush, I saw an ominous blue light emanating from my living room.
“Fuck, left the TV on again.” I thought to myself.
I dropped my keys on the way up the three stairs leading to my front door. As a bent down to retrieve them, I bumped my head on the doorframe and fell forward hard onto my left knee.
“Goddammit.” I said aloud and the door swung open unfettered by any semblance of a locking mechanism. I did not remember leaving that morning and had no idea if I remembered to lock the door.
My dress shoes squeaked as they made their way across the wet tile of my foyer. I remember when Shellie thought she could save on installation by installing them herself. I’m pretty sure that every single one of those tiles were crooked. I smiled to myself as I dropped my dripping trench coat onto the tiles with a cold, wet splat.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see the rebroadcast of the 11 o’clock news. That square jaw mannequin with the third grade vocabulary was attempting inane chatter with his vacant co-anchor.
“You missed the top story.”
I swung around too quickly. My shoes squeaked as they slipped on the tile and I hit them hard with a thud. I looked up into my living room. My television was still blaring in front of my oversized chair that was somehow being dwarfed by the man that had been poured into it. Though his shoulders were crestfallen and slumped, they still crossed the border of both sides of the chair that Shellie and I had used as a love seat on many occasions.
“What?” I managed to blurt out as I became frightfully aware that I did not own a gun.
“The top story.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“It was about the funeral that you went to. Shame on you for that, by the way. You may as well have spit in that poor widow’s face.”
I grabbed the souvenir walking stick from our family trip to Yellowstone the previous summer and quietly stepped forward onto the plush carpet of the living room. The oversized man did not move, I keep a safe distance as I move around the chair to face him, sitting in my chair was the mannequin from the newscast and several empty bottles of Jack Daniels.
“Do you even know his name?” He said, unfazed by the weapon that I wielded.
“Whose?”
“The man you hit with your car.”
“Why the fuck are you in my house?”
“His name. Do you know it.”
“Yes, I fucking know his name.”
“Say it.”
I paused for a moment. Wondering why a second rate newscaster was drunk in my living room, trying to interview me for a camera crew that was not there. He sat forward and shouted:
“Say his fucking name!”
“Simon LaGrousse.”
“No! Say his real name.”
“I-I-I don’t know——“
The massive man leapt forward so fast that I suddenly found myself with his ham of a hand around my throat pushing me again the wall on the other side of the room.
“His real name was The Vicar.”
Even with the haze of booze and the blood collecting in my head, I knew who The Vicar was. Wanted for 47 counts of murder in 1997, leaving manifestos behind, claiming to be the second in command to Christ. Taunting the team of vigilantes that were patrolling the alleyways at night.
“Who?” I spat out through the pressure on my throat.
“He tortured and mutilated 57 people, killed 47 of them. One of whom was my daughter”
Through the tears pooling in my eyes I could see that his tears were rolling down his face and on to his wrinkled suit.
“And you killed him.”
My eyes bulged as he squeezed harder. Suddenly, he let go and I fell into a slump on the floor. He backed away and back into the light of the television displaying the “off air” title card, signifying that the clock had passed two.
“Every night. Every night we looked for him. He knew I was looking for him. He knew who she was and who I was when he took her.”
He stumbled in the blue light of the television. His massive frame draped in the weight gain of middle age and alcoholism.
“You know, when we found her left index finger, it was still warm. He left a new one for us every night for a week and a half, tied with a bow made out of her pyjamas. But her left index finger; that one we were close, it had only been a few minutes. It was that glimmer of hope that lasted me until we found her head behind a dumpster on Lexington.”
I dry heaved into the carpet. Grasping for air, I managed to blurt out:
“So why are you here? Why are you coming after me? Shouldn’t you be glad that the monster is dead?”
“Because it should have been me! He doesn’t deserve a random death. Her death wasn’t random, why should his be? He doesn’t deserve to die like a human being. He should have been slaughtered like the animal that he is. I should have killed him with my bare hands.”
I sniffled and rolled on to my back and stared at the ceiling and massaged my throat, I was starting to breath normally again.
“But no. You let him get away. He got to live a normal life for years and then you came along and killed him, you useless drunk fuck. Find him was my life’s work and you took that away from me.”
“It was an act of God that put him——“
Suddenly I was off the ground and pinned between the wall and the ceiling. The pressure of his armed against my chest made it feel like it was caught in a vice. All of the air instantly left my body once again.
“Don’t you mention God to me. The acts you speak of are of no one’s work but of a sadistic piece of shit that let that monster kill my daughter.”
With the last remaining air in my lungs I manage to push out what I thought would be my last words:
“Then kill me.”
The man stared at me for a moment. Tightened his grip a bit, then dropped me once again. He stumbled back and fell back into the living room chair. He reached around the back of the oversized chair to find another bottle of whiskey. I summon enough strength to crawl back onto the wet tile to leave the broken man to his business. | |
[WP] A man accidentally kills his town's most psychotic supervillian; he then finds his town's superhero, drunk and in tears, at his house a couple of days later. | “Really? No deductible payments required? No out-of-pocket either?” Derek asked with a sense of disbelief.
“No, sir. I see from your file that the police report lists you as the victim, and for whatever reason management has waived your deductibles. We hope that this’ll get back on the road quickly.” The woman he knew only as “Melissa” responded in a cheery voice, so saccharine that Derek felt she knew more about the situation than she let on. Her smile was evident even through the receiver.
“Oh, um, I see. Well, I guess I’ll take my car into the shop tomorrow and get the ball rolling?”
“Yes, sir. In the meantime, we certainly hope you’ll enjoy the loaner car that we had sent out to you. It should be waiting for you at your house.” Derek could hear the whites of Melissa’s teeth shimmer behind every word she spoke.
“Oh! Well thank you.”
“Thank you, sir, from me and the entire Progressive family. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“N-no, no, that should be it. Thank you, Melissa.”
“Thank *you,* sir,” Melissa repeated, “and thank you again for choosing Progressive. Have good weekend.”
“Thank you, you too. Goodbye.” Derek hung up the phone and slunk back into the faux-leather cushions of the taxi cab. Things had been moving way too fast, and his head and body were killing him. To top it off, just twelve hours ago he thought he’d be in jail for the rest of his life, or executed.
*********************************
His drinking had gotten out of control – much like his car was after trading between whiskey and gin for seven-straight hours that afternoon. On the way home his car began spinning wildly out of control, crossing the center lane of a busy downtown street and through a crosswalk. Suddenly there was a thud, then a sound like a pumpkin being dropped 10 stories, then a chunky and deep maroon caked across his windshield. The car came to a dead stop moments later after it had wrapped itself around a telephone pole, leaving a streak of red, entrails, and body parts in its wake.
Police arrived on the scene moments later and pulled Derek’s drunken heap out of the heap that remained of his Chevy. Two officers grabbed hold of Derek while two other officers entertained themselves by inspecting the remains of the unlucky bastard that were strewed across the street. “Sergeant!” one of the rookie’s inspecting the victim yelled. “You’d better look at this!”
Sergeant Rush strode over to the remains. The victim’s head resembled a watermelon that had been pulverized by Gallagher. Yet even without a face, there was no mistaking who the dead son-of-a-bitch was. *Curly amber-waved hair. A 357 Magnum – “CECILIA” inscribed on the butt of the gun. The psycho's calling card: an original pressing of “Bridge Over Troubled Water.”* Rush trembled as he leaned down, reached for the victim’s right forearm, and rolled up his sleeve, looking for the final sign that the vic was who Rush thought he was. The tattoo, the singular mark of the city’s most notorious villain, was right where it should be.
**Art is Murder. Murder is Art.**
There was no doubt. This drunken fool was able to do what no police officer, no DA, no judge or vigilante could manage over the past decade.
**He had stopped The Garfunkeler.**
*****************************
“No charge, sir! It’s *you* who should be charging *me!*” The cabbie smiled at Derek through his cigarette-stained teeth, pushing back the $40 Derek tried to offer him after dropping him off at his house. The cabbie echoed the praise the police officers gave Derek at the hospital after his stomach was pumped.
Derek unlocked his front door. His head was spinning - it was all unreal. He was racked with guilt for the life he had taken, and yet people were treating him like a vigilante Jesus Christ. But there was bound to be one person who would be upset with him. As it turns out, that person was sitting at Derek’s kitchen table, bottle in hand.
“I was wondering when you’d show,” The Simonizer said. “I hope you don’t mind, I helped myself to your whiskey while I waited.” The maroon leather of his full body suit and mask creaked with every movement of his body like the floorboards of Derek’s fixer-upper. The Simonizer looked Derek up and down, sizing Derek up before he kicked the chair opposite from him away from the table. “It looks like you need a drink as well. Sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
The Simonizer reached into a pocket on his utility belt, and pulled out something shiny that caught the morning sunlight and bounced it about the room. It took Derek’s eyes a moment to adjust before he could make out what it was – Cecilia. The Garfunkeler’s signature gun.
“How the hell-”
“The police are exceedingly generous to us superheroes, giving us access to all levels of the station. Including the evidence locker.” The Simonizer took another shot of whiskey before slamming the bottle on the table. “Besides, not much need for a dead man’s property to sit in an evidence locker when his killer goes free without charge, now is there?” The Simonizer looked Derek deep in the eyes while taking another shot of whiskey. Derek sat down meekly, wondering if the police had released him only to allow The Simonizer to exact revenge on him.
“You’ve had a bad night, Mr. Hoffman. Drunk driving. Car accident. Striking a pedestrian. *Why, it’s a miracle that no one IMPORTANT got hurt, now isn’t it?”* Was this contempt, praise, or just drunken rage coming from The Simonizer’s mouth?
“Look, The Simonizer--”
“Please, there’s no need to stand on ceremony now, not between us. You can call me Al.” No one knew The Simonizer’s true identity, but his martial art skills were legendary; The Simonizer was known to care not whether the people who felt the blunt end of his signature move – The Boxer – wound up in the hospital or the grave.
“Look, I don’t know why you broke into my house at 7:30am, but I--”
“Sssshhhhhh.” The Simonizer lifted a finger, silencing Derek. “Do you hear that? No police sirens. No calls from the mayor’s office, asking me to stop The Garfunkeler again from reigning terror upon the city. The Garfunkeler’s been dead for six hours, and already the sound of the silence is deafening. “No, instead they’re wondering who you are, whose chest they’re going to pin *your fucking medal on!”*
The table between them erupted from The Simonizer’s lightning quick Boxer attack, and exploded into a million shards of cheap balsawood. Before Derek could comprehend it, The Simonizer had him by the scruff of his collar, pressed *into* the wall as The Simonizer held the bottle of whiskey above Derek’s head. *“You son of a bitch! You took him from me! You took him from me!”*
Just as quickly, The Simonizer crumpled into a ball on the floor, sobbing over and over, *“You took him, you took him away, you bastard….”*
*************************************
“Cream or sugar?”
“No thanks, just black. And sorry about the table. Not my finest hour. I’ll pay for the damage.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
The Simonizer took a long sip of the coffee Derek had brewed during the twenty minutes The Simonizer was curled up on his floor and sobbing. He thought about his next words carefully. “Have you read much Dostoyevsky, Mr. Hoffman?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Well I love him. I first read *The Brothers Karamazov* when I was sixteen, and it was the first time that a book really opened my mind to the world. I re-read it every few years, just to see if it still speaks to me the same way that it did all those years ago.” The Simonizer put down his coffee and looked Derek deep in the eyes. “There is a line from the book that has always stuck with me. *‘The mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live for.’*
“Stopping The Garfunkeler was that *something* for me. *That* is what I lived for.” The Simonizer sighed, took a breath and shook his head. “But that’s all gone now. The city is safe, and my job was never fulfilled. The city doesn't need me. What’s worse, because you took out The Garfunkeler, people are going to think that they don’t need superheroes at all. That everyday citizens can take down the worst supervillains known to man. *You, Derek Hoffman,* not only killed The Garfunkeler, but you simultaneously signed my own death warrant. With a city at peace, I have no purpose, nothing to define my life.
“The city at peace was my dream. And now that that dream is real, my reality is no more.” The Simonizer walked to the window. The TV stations were parking their trucks on the street, the reporters setting up shop on Derek’s front lawn. “When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer.”
“Hans Gruber. Die Hard.”
“Too right, Mr. Hoffman, too right. I now have no more worlds to conquer.” He looked back at Derek, a wistful smile traced his lips. The Simonizer looked away and swiftly made for the door. “I’ve kept you too long, Mr. Hoffman. My apologies. If you’ll see from the window, the people want you now. You are their hero, the man who did what I could not. Enjoy your moment while it lasts, Mr. Hoffman, for all glory is fleeting.”
With a quick turn of the knob The Simonizer stepped into the morning. The press dutifully snapped pictures of The Simonizer emerging from Derek’s house before rushing into the entrance way, trying to get an exclusive with the city’s greatest hero, a hero powered on nothing but distilled grains and a totaled Chevy.
The Simonizer walked solitarily into the morning, leaving Derek to his new life.
“Well, I guess I could go hunt down the Neil Diamond Gang out in Capitol City now.” | I stepped out of the taxi into a deep puddle in the gutter outside my townhouse. A brisk spring shower made it the perfect day for a funeral. I tipped the cabbie five dollars and sent him on his way to torment his next fare with strange food smells and troubling political views.
I threw up the beer and whiskey that remained in my stomach into the bushes outside my living room window. Shellie had taken the kids to her sister’s for the week; the press had been following them leading up to my DUI arraignment so I wouldn't have to worry about cleaning it up until morning. As I pulled my teary face up from the perfectly manicured thrush, I saw an ominous blue light emanating from my living room.
“Fuck, left the TV on again.” I thought to myself.
I dropped my keys on the way up the three stairs leading to my front door. As a bent down to retrieve them, I bumped my head on the doorframe and fell forward hard onto my left knee.
“Goddammit.” I said aloud and the door swung open unfettered by any semblance of a locking mechanism. I did not remember leaving that morning and had no idea if I remembered to lock the door.
My dress shoes squeaked as they made their way across the wet tile of my foyer. I remember when Shellie thought she could save on installation by installing them herself. I’m pretty sure that every single one of those tiles were crooked. I smiled to myself as I dropped my dripping trench coat onto the tiles with a cold, wet splat.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see the rebroadcast of the 11 o’clock news. That square jaw mannequin with the third grade vocabulary was attempting inane chatter with his vacant co-anchor.
“You missed the top story.”
I swung around too quickly. My shoes squeaked as they slipped on the tile and I hit them hard with a thud. I looked up into my living room. My television was still blaring in front of my oversized chair that was somehow being dwarfed by the man that had been poured into it. Though his shoulders were crestfallen and slumped, they still crossed the border of both sides of the chair that Shellie and I had used as a love seat on many occasions.
“What?” I managed to blurt out as I became frightfully aware that I did not own a gun.
“The top story.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“It was about the funeral that you went to. Shame on you for that, by the way. You may as well have spit in that poor widow’s face.”
I grabbed the souvenir walking stick from our family trip to Yellowstone the previous summer and quietly stepped forward onto the plush carpet of the living room. The oversized man did not move, I keep a safe distance as I move around the chair to face him, sitting in my chair was the mannequin from the newscast and several empty bottles of Jack Daniels.
“Do you even know his name?” He said, unfazed by the weapon that I wielded.
“Whose?”
“The man you hit with your car.”
“Why the fuck are you in my house?”
“His name. Do you know it.”
“Yes, I fucking know his name.”
“Say it.”
I paused for a moment. Wondering why a second rate newscaster was drunk in my living room, trying to interview me for a camera crew that was not there. He sat forward and shouted:
“Say his fucking name!”
“Simon LaGrousse.”
“No! Say his real name.”
“I-I-I don’t know——“
The massive man leapt forward so fast that I suddenly found myself with his ham of a hand around my throat pushing me again the wall on the other side of the room.
“His real name was The Vicar.”
Even with the haze of booze and the blood collecting in my head, I knew who The Vicar was. Wanted for 47 counts of murder in 1997, leaving manifestos behind, claiming to be the second in command to Christ. Taunting the team of vigilantes that were patrolling the alleyways at night.
“Who?” I spat out through the pressure on my throat.
“He tortured and mutilated 57 people, killed 47 of them. One of whom was my daughter”
Through the tears pooling in my eyes I could see that his tears were rolling down his face and on to his wrinkled suit.
“And you killed him.”
My eyes bulged as he squeezed harder. Suddenly, he let go and I fell into a slump on the floor. He backed away and back into the light of the television displaying the “off air” title card, signifying that the clock had passed two.
“Every night. Every night we looked for him. He knew I was looking for him. He knew who she was and who I was when he took her.”
He stumbled in the blue light of the television. His massive frame draped in the weight gain of middle age and alcoholism.
“You know, when we found her left index finger, it was still warm. He left a new one for us every night for a week and a half, tied with a bow made out of her pyjamas. But her left index finger; that one we were close, it had only been a few minutes. It was that glimmer of hope that lasted me until we found her head behind a dumpster on Lexington.”
I dry heaved into the carpet. Grasping for air, I managed to blurt out:
“So why are you here? Why are you coming after me? Shouldn’t you be glad that the monster is dead?”
“Because it should have been me! He doesn’t deserve a random death. Her death wasn’t random, why should his be? He doesn’t deserve to die like a human being. He should have been slaughtered like the animal that he is. I should have killed him with my bare hands.”
I sniffled and rolled on to my back and stared at the ceiling and massaged my throat, I was starting to breath normally again.
“But no. You let him get away. He got to live a normal life for years and then you came along and killed him, you useless drunk fuck. Find him was my life’s work and you took that away from me.”
“It was an act of God that put him——“
Suddenly I was off the ground and pinned between the wall and the ceiling. The pressure of his armed against my chest made it feel like it was caught in a vice. All of the air instantly left my body once again.
“Don’t you mention God to me. The acts you speak of are of no one’s work but of a sadistic piece of shit that let that monster kill my daughter.”
With the last remaining air in my lungs I manage to push out what I thought would be my last words:
“Then kill me.”
The man stared at me for a moment. Tightened his grip a bit, then dropped me once again. He stumbled back and fell back into the living room chair. He reached around the back of the oversized chair to find another bottle of whiskey. I summon enough strength to crawl back onto the wet tile to leave the broken man to his business. | |
[WP] A man accidentally kills his town's most psychotic supervillian; he then finds his town's superhero, drunk and in tears, at his house a couple of days later. | there was a man at my door, he told me he was selling newspapers, I told him I was already subscribed to the local paper and went to close the door, he didn't move, told me that I might want to have a look at today's headline, it read: "Mass Murder, Thousands Dead In Ensuing Rockslide from... Blast Radius... culprit..." I recognized the man after he lowered the paper. I recognized the culprit. He told me that this was the crown of glory he'd wear to his grave, his greatest work yet, and he laughed. He looked different without the makeup, but he carried that same lifeless grin I saw on the news most nights. He looked different with the knife in his chest. I swear it was only self defense. I'm not the kind of man to kill, I swear it. He fell dead all the same landing grin down on my doorstep. I forgot to close the door.
The police came and went, cleaned up really well, congratulated me. They were jubilant, I was in shock. I didn't come back to earth until after they'd asked me questions, taken the body and left.
I found him sitting at my table that night. He looked different without the mask, he was hunched under the overhead lamp and he wasn't moving. Just sitting.
"How did you get in?"
He just looked at me.
"Did he shake your hand?"
I was confused. "Did who? Yeah they shook my hand, showered me with all sorts of praise and reassurance, told me I'd get some sort of medal for my service, don't be afraid they said, you've done a good thing."
"you probably expect I'm thankful too."
"I don't want your thanks, you know what it's like to kill a man. I can't get his damn laugh out of my head, I'm telling you I didn't ask for this, the way the knife felt when I..."
He pushed the chair back and strode over to me, I felt the weight of his hand, heavy on my shoulder. His breath was rank with booze.
"I'm only here to congratulate you, you've finally got the better of me, killed the only man with the information I need to stop those bombs from going off in the mountains and killing thousands, I should end you. But you're right, I know what it's like to kill a man. I know the pain you'll feel. All that blood's on your head."
On his way out the door he reached into my mailbox and threw a newspaper at my feet.
I was reeling, but I read through each word of that horrific story and noticed the date, it was tomorrow. It was dated for tomorrow.
| Ronald rubbed his eyes sleepily as the squad car dropped him off at home. It'd been a long day, he'd just been driving home when he passed by the National Bank in Elderhelm City. An explosion went off, and he saw him! The Prankster, one of the most sadistic and psychotic villains to even walk the streets running across the street with some of his goons, skipping along like a goddamn school girl. In that moment, a million headlines flashed before his eyes as he recalled all the rampages and threats that beanie hat wearing freak caused, all the violence and death, and next thing Roland Simmons knew, he was gunning the acceleration of his car, and aimed his wheel wells right at the Prankster. His car spun out of control from the sudden impact and meaty crunch as he made paste of the villain and then crashed his car into a wall. When he came too the cops were already there, and it took five hours of incredulous questioning before they were satisfied.
Ready for a well earned nights sleep, he opened his door to hear the faint sound of sobbing. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a can of mace the cop had given him and slowly walked through his empty house, phone ready on speed dial to call the police. After passing through the living room and the kitchen, he found himself looking at the door to his dinning room, a faint sliver of light illuminating the crack under the door. Slowly inching it open, he saw a lone figure slumped over the table, a mostly empty bottle of whiskey in one had, his arm cradling his head on the desk. The sight though made Ronald put his mace away, he recognized that cape and get up anywhere, it was the Nightshade, self proclaimed protector of the city and arch rival of Prankster.
The man whose mere presences emboldened so many to try and stand against the growing tide of violence, crimes and anarchy their city had faced all those years ago, now bent at an almost impossible angle as he shook violently with sobs. After a small pause, he rose slightly, but failed to turn his head.
"You" was all he said. He remained still for what seemed like a small eternity, before he up righted his tumbler and unscrewed his bottle.
As he poured himself another shot and downed it with one gulp, he sent out another ear piercing cry that made Ronald hold his ears as he waited for the grown man dressed as an animal to finish sobbing. Gently, he awkwardly set a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey...hey it'll be okay" he mumbled
"Poor bastard" Ronald thought "Prankster was his rival, he spent so much of his time fighting that guy, and then suddenly to have it end, man that's gotta be some kind of crisis" he though as he tried to consul the hero. For the ordinary person this might seem odd, but for Ronald, he lived in a world where costumed vigilantes and people with mysterious powers were the norm. He and many others long ago quietly accepted that for all the good the heroes of the world did, they operated on a plane of logic far removed from the average Joe.
"You have plenty of other villains to face" He continued in his half-baked attempts "its not like The Prankster was the only one...right?"
"N...No, you...you don't understand" Nightshade whimpered after a minute or two of silence as he stared off into space through an empty window. "I'm not crying be....because he's gone"he said as he slammed the glass down. "These ain't tears of sadness....well I guess they are, but mostly....mostly they're of joy!"
"Joy?" Ronald asked
"Yeah, because you...you did what I couldn't do...what...what **I** lacked the will to do.
"Hmmm" Ronald mused as he humored the inebriated hero "Then whats the sadness for then?"
"They're also sad because...because I can't help but now think...think of how better people's live might've been if I'd gotten that kind of strength sometime in the past" | |
[WP] A man accidentally kills his town's most psychotic supervillian; he then finds his town's superhero, drunk and in tears, at his house a couple of days later. | “Really? No deductible payments required? No out-of-pocket either?” Derek asked with a sense of disbelief.
“No, sir. I see from your file that the police report lists you as the victim, and for whatever reason management has waived your deductibles. We hope that this’ll get back on the road quickly.” The woman he knew only as “Melissa” responded in a cheery voice, so saccharine that Derek felt she knew more about the situation than she let on. Her smile was evident even through the receiver.
“Oh, um, I see. Well, I guess I’ll take my car into the shop tomorrow and get the ball rolling?”
“Yes, sir. In the meantime, we certainly hope you’ll enjoy the loaner car that we had sent out to you. It should be waiting for you at your house.” Derek could hear the whites of Melissa’s teeth shimmer behind every word she spoke.
“Oh! Well thank you.”
“Thank you, sir, from me and the entire Progressive family. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“N-no, no, that should be it. Thank you, Melissa.”
“Thank *you,* sir,” Melissa repeated, “and thank you again for choosing Progressive. Have good weekend.”
“Thank you, you too. Goodbye.” Derek hung up the phone and slunk back into the faux-leather cushions of the taxi cab. Things had been moving way too fast, and his head and body were killing him. To top it off, just twelve hours ago he thought he’d be in jail for the rest of his life, or executed.
*********************************
His drinking had gotten out of control – much like his car was after trading between whiskey and gin for seven-straight hours that afternoon. On the way home his car began spinning wildly out of control, crossing the center lane of a busy downtown street and through a crosswalk. Suddenly there was a thud, then a sound like a pumpkin being dropped 10 stories, then a chunky and deep maroon caked across his windshield. The car came to a dead stop moments later after it had wrapped itself around a telephone pole, leaving a streak of red, entrails, and body parts in its wake.
Police arrived on the scene moments later and pulled Derek’s drunken heap out of the heap that remained of his Chevy. Two officers grabbed hold of Derek while two other officers entertained themselves by inspecting the remains of the unlucky bastard that were strewed across the street. “Sergeant!” one of the rookie’s inspecting the victim yelled. “You’d better look at this!”
Sergeant Rush strode over to the remains. The victim’s head resembled a watermelon that had been pulverized by Gallagher. Yet even without a face, there was no mistaking who the dead son-of-a-bitch was. *Curly amber-waved hair. A 357 Magnum – “CECILIA” inscribed on the butt of the gun. The psycho's calling card: an original pressing of “Bridge Over Troubled Water.”* Rush trembled as he leaned down, reached for the victim’s right forearm, and rolled up his sleeve, looking for the final sign that the vic was who Rush thought he was. The tattoo, the singular mark of the city’s most notorious villain, was right where it should be.
**Art is Murder. Murder is Art.**
There was no doubt. This drunken fool was able to do what no police officer, no DA, no judge or vigilante could manage over the past decade.
**He had stopped The Garfunkeler.**
*****************************
“No charge, sir! It’s *you* who should be charging *me!*” The cabbie smiled at Derek through his cigarette-stained teeth, pushing back the $40 Derek tried to offer him after dropping him off at his house. The cabbie echoed the praise the police officers gave Derek at the hospital after his stomach was pumped.
Derek unlocked his front door. His head was spinning - it was all unreal. He was racked with guilt for the life he had taken, and yet people were treating him like a vigilante Jesus Christ. But there was bound to be one person who would be upset with him. As it turns out, that person was sitting at Derek’s kitchen table, bottle in hand.
“I was wondering when you’d show,” The Simonizer said. “I hope you don’t mind, I helped myself to your whiskey while I waited.” The maroon leather of his full body suit and mask creaked with every movement of his body like the floorboards of Derek’s fixer-upper. The Simonizer looked Derek up and down, sizing Derek up before he kicked the chair opposite from him away from the table. “It looks like you need a drink as well. Sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
The Simonizer reached into a pocket on his utility belt, and pulled out something shiny that caught the morning sunlight and bounced it about the room. It took Derek’s eyes a moment to adjust before he could make out what it was – Cecilia. The Garfunkeler’s signature gun.
“How the hell-”
“The police are exceedingly generous to us superheroes, giving us access to all levels of the station. Including the evidence locker.” The Simonizer took another shot of whiskey before slamming the bottle on the table. “Besides, not much need for a dead man’s property to sit in an evidence locker when his killer goes free without charge, now is there?” The Simonizer looked Derek deep in the eyes while taking another shot of whiskey. Derek sat down meekly, wondering if the police had released him only to allow The Simonizer to exact revenge on him.
“You’ve had a bad night, Mr. Hoffman. Drunk driving. Car accident. Striking a pedestrian. *Why, it’s a miracle that no one IMPORTANT got hurt, now isn’t it?”* Was this contempt, praise, or just drunken rage coming from The Simonizer’s mouth?
“Look, The Simonizer--”
“Please, there’s no need to stand on ceremony now, not between us. You can call me Al.” No one knew The Simonizer’s true identity, but his martial art skills were legendary; The Simonizer was known to care not whether the people who felt the blunt end of his signature move – The Boxer – wound up in the hospital or the grave.
“Look, I don’t know why you broke into my house at 7:30am, but I--”
“Sssshhhhhh.” The Simonizer lifted a finger, silencing Derek. “Do you hear that? No police sirens. No calls from the mayor’s office, asking me to stop The Garfunkeler again from reigning terror upon the city. The Garfunkeler’s been dead for six hours, and already the sound of the silence is deafening. “No, instead they’re wondering who you are, whose chest they’re going to pin *your fucking medal on!”*
The table between them erupted from The Simonizer’s lightning quick Boxer attack, and exploded into a million shards of cheap balsawood. Before Derek could comprehend it, The Simonizer had him by the scruff of his collar, pressed *into* the wall as The Simonizer held the bottle of whiskey above Derek’s head. *“You son of a bitch! You took him from me! You took him from me!”*
Just as quickly, The Simonizer crumpled into a ball on the floor, sobbing over and over, *“You took him, you took him away, you bastard….”*
*************************************
“Cream or sugar?”
“No thanks, just black. And sorry about the table. Not my finest hour. I’ll pay for the damage.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
The Simonizer took a long sip of the coffee Derek had brewed during the twenty minutes The Simonizer was curled up on his floor and sobbing. He thought about his next words carefully. “Have you read much Dostoyevsky, Mr. Hoffman?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Well I love him. I first read *The Brothers Karamazov* when I was sixteen, and it was the first time that a book really opened my mind to the world. I re-read it every few years, just to see if it still speaks to me the same way that it did all those years ago.” The Simonizer put down his coffee and looked Derek deep in the eyes. “There is a line from the book that has always stuck with me. *‘The mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live for.’*
“Stopping The Garfunkeler was that *something* for me. *That* is what I lived for.” The Simonizer sighed, took a breath and shook his head. “But that’s all gone now. The city is safe, and my job was never fulfilled. The city doesn't need me. What’s worse, because you took out The Garfunkeler, people are going to think that they don’t need superheroes at all. That everyday citizens can take down the worst supervillains known to man. *You, Derek Hoffman,* not only killed The Garfunkeler, but you simultaneously signed my own death warrant. With a city at peace, I have no purpose, nothing to define my life.
“The city at peace was my dream. And now that that dream is real, my reality is no more.” The Simonizer walked to the window. The TV stations were parking their trucks on the street, the reporters setting up shop on Derek’s front lawn. “When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer.”
“Hans Gruber. Die Hard.”
“Too right, Mr. Hoffman, too right. I now have no more worlds to conquer.” He looked back at Derek, a wistful smile traced his lips. The Simonizer looked away and swiftly made for the door. “I’ve kept you too long, Mr. Hoffman. My apologies. If you’ll see from the window, the people want you now. You are their hero, the man who did what I could not. Enjoy your moment while it lasts, Mr. Hoffman, for all glory is fleeting.”
With a quick turn of the knob The Simonizer stepped into the morning. The press dutifully snapped pictures of The Simonizer emerging from Derek’s house before rushing into the entrance way, trying to get an exclusive with the city’s greatest hero, a hero powered on nothing but distilled grains and a totaled Chevy.
The Simonizer walked solitarily into the morning, leaving Derek to his new life.
“Well, I guess I could go hunt down the Neil Diamond Gang out in Capitol City now.” | Ronald rubbed his eyes sleepily as the squad car dropped him off at home. It'd been a long day, he'd just been driving home when he passed by the National Bank in Elderhelm City. An explosion went off, and he saw him! The Prankster, one of the most sadistic and psychotic villains to even walk the streets running across the street with some of his goons, skipping along like a goddamn school girl. In that moment, a million headlines flashed before his eyes as he recalled all the rampages and threats that beanie hat wearing freak caused, all the violence and death, and next thing Roland Simmons knew, he was gunning the acceleration of his car, and aimed his wheel wells right at the Prankster. His car spun out of control from the sudden impact and meaty crunch as he made paste of the villain and then crashed his car into a wall. When he came too the cops were already there, and it took five hours of incredulous questioning before they were satisfied.
Ready for a well earned nights sleep, he opened his door to hear the faint sound of sobbing. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a can of mace the cop had given him and slowly walked through his empty house, phone ready on speed dial to call the police. After passing through the living room and the kitchen, he found himself looking at the door to his dinning room, a faint sliver of light illuminating the crack under the door. Slowly inching it open, he saw a lone figure slumped over the table, a mostly empty bottle of whiskey in one had, his arm cradling his head on the desk. The sight though made Ronald put his mace away, he recognized that cape and get up anywhere, it was the Nightshade, self proclaimed protector of the city and arch rival of Prankster.
The man whose mere presences emboldened so many to try and stand against the growing tide of violence, crimes and anarchy their city had faced all those years ago, now bent at an almost impossible angle as he shook violently with sobs. After a small pause, he rose slightly, but failed to turn his head.
"You" was all he said. He remained still for what seemed like a small eternity, before he up righted his tumbler and unscrewed his bottle.
As he poured himself another shot and downed it with one gulp, he sent out another ear piercing cry that made Ronald hold his ears as he waited for the grown man dressed as an animal to finish sobbing. Gently, he awkwardly set a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey...hey it'll be okay" he mumbled
"Poor bastard" Ronald thought "Prankster was his rival, he spent so much of his time fighting that guy, and then suddenly to have it end, man that's gotta be some kind of crisis" he though as he tried to consul the hero. For the ordinary person this might seem odd, but for Ronald, he lived in a world where costumed vigilantes and people with mysterious powers were the norm. He and many others long ago quietly accepted that for all the good the heroes of the world did, they operated on a plane of logic far removed from the average Joe.
"You have plenty of other villains to face" He continued in his half-baked attempts "its not like The Prankster was the only one...right?"
"N...No, you...you don't understand" Nightshade whimpered after a minute or two of silence as he stared off into space through an empty window. "I'm not crying be....because he's gone"he said as he slammed the glass down. "These ain't tears of sadness....well I guess they are, but mostly....mostly they're of joy!"
"Joy?" Ronald asked
"Yeah, because you...you did what I couldn't do...what...what **I** lacked the will to do.
"Hmmm" Ronald mused as he humored the inebriated hero "Then whats the sadness for then?"
"They're also sad because...because I can't help but now think...think of how better people's live might've been if I'd gotten that kind of strength sometime in the past" | |
[WP] A man accidentally kills his town's most psychotic supervillian; he then finds his town's superhero, drunk and in tears, at his house a couple of days later. | there was a man at my door, he told me he was selling newspapers, I told him I was already subscribed to the local paper and went to close the door, he didn't move, told me that I might want to have a look at today's headline, it read: "Mass Murder, Thousands Dead In Ensuing Rockslide from... Blast Radius... culprit..." I recognized the man after he lowered the paper. I recognized the culprit. He told me that this was the crown of glory he'd wear to his grave, his greatest work yet, and he laughed. He looked different without the makeup, but he carried that same lifeless grin I saw on the news most nights. He looked different with the knife in his chest. I swear it was only self defense. I'm not the kind of man to kill, I swear it. He fell dead all the same landing grin down on my doorstep. I forgot to close the door.
The police came and went, cleaned up really well, congratulated me. They were jubilant, I was in shock. I didn't come back to earth until after they'd asked me questions, taken the body and left.
I found him sitting at my table that night. He looked different without the mask, he was hunched under the overhead lamp and he wasn't moving. Just sitting.
"How did you get in?"
He just looked at me.
"Did he shake your hand?"
I was confused. "Did who? Yeah they shook my hand, showered me with all sorts of praise and reassurance, told me I'd get some sort of medal for my service, don't be afraid they said, you've done a good thing."
"you probably expect I'm thankful too."
"I don't want your thanks, you know what it's like to kill a man. I can't get his damn laugh out of my head, I'm telling you I didn't ask for this, the way the knife felt when I..."
He pushed the chair back and strode over to me, I felt the weight of his hand, heavy on my shoulder. His breath was rank with booze.
"I'm only here to congratulate you, you've finally got the better of me, killed the only man with the information I need to stop those bombs from going off in the mountains and killing thousands, I should end you. But you're right, I know what it's like to kill a man. I know the pain you'll feel. All that blood's on your head."
On his way out the door he reached into my mailbox and threw a newspaper at my feet.
I was reeling, but I read through each word of that horrific story and noticed the date, it was tomorrow. It was dated for tomorrow.
| When I walked through my front door, I knew he was around. There was an unfamiliar smell. Sure enough when I crossed the threshold into the living room, Patrick was sitting on my sofa, hiccuping and clutching a bottle of a pungent clear liquor in his hand. I tried my best to lighten the mood.
"Hey Patty-boy! Whatcha drinking there?"
"Grain liquor...It's..*hic*..Polish"
I paused meaningfully, looking as regretful as I could. I sighed and sat down next to Patrick. He glared at me and then began to shout, waving his arms haphazardly.
"You're a fucking dick, man. I *called* dibs...*hic*...I called it." He flung his arm in my direction, presumably meaning to hit me. His open palm harmlessly flopped back on his own knee. It looked like an ineffectual fish, and I felt sorrier for him than I had before.
Patrick grew angrier, frustrated even more at the fact that his motor skills were completely on the fritz. He slouched back, dribbling spittle as he spoke.
"Let me tell you a story, Steve...*hic*" He paused to take another swig from his bottle. "Remember back in the day, when our town had a chicken wing eating contest? You remember that?"
A melancholy look glossed over his eyeballs. I groaned, knowing what was coming next. I had heard this story before. It was one of Patrick's favorites. The point of the story was that unrealized dreams are a perpetual and painful burden--Patrick's own adolescent dream of being a chicken wing eating champion having been crushed in 1997, when the town council decided the public display of gluttony was tarnishing our sleepy little community's otherwise graceful image. It was a good story when told right, but Patrick tended to belabor the moral at every turn.
"OK Patrick, let's stop right here. I don't want to hear your fucking chicken wing story again." My voice came out firm but not callous. This was good; I was putting my foot down. Stern but fair. Patrick blubbered in protest, angrily zapping one of my vases with a laser beam from his index finger. The vase cracked slightly, but did not shatter. Patrick was far too drunk and his superpowers were utterly abortive. He looked peeved. I suppressed a chuckle.
"Fuck you Steve. I'm going to come back tomorrow and put a giant dent in your car," said Patrick angrily. "Good friend you are. Fuck me over and then laugh at me?"
I paused for a moment, deep in thought. I had an idea that might placate Patrick.
"OK Patrick. I'm sorry I killed Dr. Snubblemuff. It was an accident. But if it would make you feel better, we can go dig up his body and throw firecrackers at it and stuff tomorrow. I'll buy us some steaks after and we can grill them in my backyard."
Patrick considered this proposal with strained concentration, blinking his eyes furiously in his stupor. I knew it would work, because Patrick was a child--quick to anger, and quick to be talked right out of it.
"Fine. But only I get to throw firecrackers." He shot back. He heaved himself up, teetered on his feet slightly before flying out the open window.
| |
[WP] A man accidentally kills his town's most psychotic supervillian; he then finds his town's superhero, drunk and in tears, at his house a couple of days later. | “Really? No deductible payments required? No out-of-pocket either?” Derek asked with a sense of disbelief.
“No, sir. I see from your file that the police report lists you as the victim, and for whatever reason management has waived your deductibles. We hope that this’ll get back on the road quickly.” The woman he knew only as “Melissa” responded in a cheery voice, so saccharine that Derek felt she knew more about the situation than she let on. Her smile was evident even through the receiver.
“Oh, um, I see. Well, I guess I’ll take my car into the shop tomorrow and get the ball rolling?”
“Yes, sir. In the meantime, we certainly hope you’ll enjoy the loaner car that we had sent out to you. It should be waiting for you at your house.” Derek could hear the whites of Melissa’s teeth shimmer behind every word she spoke.
“Oh! Well thank you.”
“Thank you, sir, from me and the entire Progressive family. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“N-no, no, that should be it. Thank you, Melissa.”
“Thank *you,* sir,” Melissa repeated, “and thank you again for choosing Progressive. Have good weekend.”
“Thank you, you too. Goodbye.” Derek hung up the phone and slunk back into the faux-leather cushions of the taxi cab. Things had been moving way too fast, and his head and body were killing him. To top it off, just twelve hours ago he thought he’d be in jail for the rest of his life, or executed.
*********************************
His drinking had gotten out of control – much like his car was after trading between whiskey and gin for seven-straight hours that afternoon. On the way home his car began spinning wildly out of control, crossing the center lane of a busy downtown street and through a crosswalk. Suddenly there was a thud, then a sound like a pumpkin being dropped 10 stories, then a chunky and deep maroon caked across his windshield. The car came to a dead stop moments later after it had wrapped itself around a telephone pole, leaving a streak of red, entrails, and body parts in its wake.
Police arrived on the scene moments later and pulled Derek’s drunken heap out of the heap that remained of his Chevy. Two officers grabbed hold of Derek while two other officers entertained themselves by inspecting the remains of the unlucky bastard that were strewed across the street. “Sergeant!” one of the rookie’s inspecting the victim yelled. “You’d better look at this!”
Sergeant Rush strode over to the remains. The victim’s head resembled a watermelon that had been pulverized by Gallagher. Yet even without a face, there was no mistaking who the dead son-of-a-bitch was. *Curly amber-waved hair. A 357 Magnum – “CECILIA” inscribed on the butt of the gun. The psycho's calling card: an original pressing of “Bridge Over Troubled Water.”* Rush trembled as he leaned down, reached for the victim’s right forearm, and rolled up his sleeve, looking for the final sign that the vic was who Rush thought he was. The tattoo, the singular mark of the city’s most notorious villain, was right where it should be.
**Art is Murder. Murder is Art.**
There was no doubt. This drunken fool was able to do what no police officer, no DA, no judge or vigilante could manage over the past decade.
**He had stopped The Garfunkeler.**
*****************************
“No charge, sir! It’s *you* who should be charging *me!*” The cabbie smiled at Derek through his cigarette-stained teeth, pushing back the $40 Derek tried to offer him after dropping him off at his house. The cabbie echoed the praise the police officers gave Derek at the hospital after his stomach was pumped.
Derek unlocked his front door. His head was spinning - it was all unreal. He was racked with guilt for the life he had taken, and yet people were treating him like a vigilante Jesus Christ. But there was bound to be one person who would be upset with him. As it turns out, that person was sitting at Derek’s kitchen table, bottle in hand.
“I was wondering when you’d show,” The Simonizer said. “I hope you don’t mind, I helped myself to your whiskey while I waited.” The maroon leather of his full body suit and mask creaked with every movement of his body like the floorboards of Derek’s fixer-upper. The Simonizer looked Derek up and down, sizing Derek up before he kicked the chair opposite from him away from the table. “It looks like you need a drink as well. Sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
The Simonizer reached into a pocket on his utility belt, and pulled out something shiny that caught the morning sunlight and bounced it about the room. It took Derek’s eyes a moment to adjust before he could make out what it was – Cecilia. The Garfunkeler’s signature gun.
“How the hell-”
“The police are exceedingly generous to us superheroes, giving us access to all levels of the station. Including the evidence locker.” The Simonizer took another shot of whiskey before slamming the bottle on the table. “Besides, not much need for a dead man’s property to sit in an evidence locker when his killer goes free without charge, now is there?” The Simonizer looked Derek deep in the eyes while taking another shot of whiskey. Derek sat down meekly, wondering if the police had released him only to allow The Simonizer to exact revenge on him.
“You’ve had a bad night, Mr. Hoffman. Drunk driving. Car accident. Striking a pedestrian. *Why, it’s a miracle that no one IMPORTANT got hurt, now isn’t it?”* Was this contempt, praise, or just drunken rage coming from The Simonizer’s mouth?
“Look, The Simonizer--”
“Please, there’s no need to stand on ceremony now, not between us. You can call me Al.” No one knew The Simonizer’s true identity, but his martial art skills were legendary; The Simonizer was known to care not whether the people who felt the blunt end of his signature move – The Boxer – wound up in the hospital or the grave.
“Look, I don’t know why you broke into my house at 7:30am, but I--”
“Sssshhhhhh.” The Simonizer lifted a finger, silencing Derek. “Do you hear that? No police sirens. No calls from the mayor’s office, asking me to stop The Garfunkeler again from reigning terror upon the city. The Garfunkeler’s been dead for six hours, and already the sound of the silence is deafening. “No, instead they’re wondering who you are, whose chest they’re going to pin *your fucking medal on!”*
The table between them erupted from The Simonizer’s lightning quick Boxer attack, and exploded into a million shards of cheap balsawood. Before Derek could comprehend it, The Simonizer had him by the scruff of his collar, pressed *into* the wall as The Simonizer held the bottle of whiskey above Derek’s head. *“You son of a bitch! You took him from me! You took him from me!”*
Just as quickly, The Simonizer crumpled into a ball on the floor, sobbing over and over, *“You took him, you took him away, you bastard….”*
*************************************
“Cream or sugar?”
“No thanks, just black. And sorry about the table. Not my finest hour. I’ll pay for the damage.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
The Simonizer took a long sip of the coffee Derek had brewed during the twenty minutes The Simonizer was curled up on his floor and sobbing. He thought about his next words carefully. “Have you read much Dostoyevsky, Mr. Hoffman?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Well I love him. I first read *The Brothers Karamazov* when I was sixteen, and it was the first time that a book really opened my mind to the world. I re-read it every few years, just to see if it still speaks to me the same way that it did all those years ago.” The Simonizer put down his coffee and looked Derek deep in the eyes. “There is a line from the book that has always stuck with me. *‘The mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live for.’*
“Stopping The Garfunkeler was that *something* for me. *That* is what I lived for.” The Simonizer sighed, took a breath and shook his head. “But that’s all gone now. The city is safe, and my job was never fulfilled. The city doesn't need me. What’s worse, because you took out The Garfunkeler, people are going to think that they don’t need superheroes at all. That everyday citizens can take down the worst supervillains known to man. *You, Derek Hoffman,* not only killed The Garfunkeler, but you simultaneously signed my own death warrant. With a city at peace, I have no purpose, nothing to define my life.
“The city at peace was my dream. And now that that dream is real, my reality is no more.” The Simonizer walked to the window. The TV stations were parking their trucks on the street, the reporters setting up shop on Derek’s front lawn. “When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer.”
“Hans Gruber. Die Hard.”
“Too right, Mr. Hoffman, too right. I now have no more worlds to conquer.” He looked back at Derek, a wistful smile traced his lips. The Simonizer looked away and swiftly made for the door. “I’ve kept you too long, Mr. Hoffman. My apologies. If you’ll see from the window, the people want you now. You are their hero, the man who did what I could not. Enjoy your moment while it lasts, Mr. Hoffman, for all glory is fleeting.”
With a quick turn of the knob The Simonizer stepped into the morning. The press dutifully snapped pictures of The Simonizer emerging from Derek’s house before rushing into the entrance way, trying to get an exclusive with the city’s greatest hero, a hero powered on nothing but distilled grains and a totaled Chevy.
The Simonizer walked solitarily into the morning, leaving Derek to his new life.
“Well, I guess I could go hunt down the Neil Diamond Gang out in Capitol City now.” | The phone buzzed in my pocket as I unlocked the door and I ignored it. Probably another TV show who wanted an interview. There had been a couple already. They all wanted to interview me for just doing my job. Just for getting in a few lucky shoot and take down the bastard and take a gang of crazies. Villains where not a word I would use on those people. I remember when it happened I first though I had shot some stupid cosplayers. Then we discovered it was the real deal.
They had attacked me and fuck me if I was going to hide and wait for the Hero to show up. I didn’t become a police officer to hide from bad guys. Yeah I know the instruction. If we encounter these guys we are supposed to report in and wait. Let the big guy take care of them. I’m not dying for him to look great in the news. Beside I was not even supposed to be there. I was covering for Johnson shift and why would these guys stand in an abandoned warehouse and argue loudly about how to kill the big guy?
I switched on the light and nothing happened. I tried a few more time and cursed as I used the light of my cell to find the next switch.
‘Don’t bother turning on the light. I removed the fuse’
I turned towards sound. And there was the big guy sitting in my couch with a bottle of my vodka. I just stared. This was the last thing I expected. ‘What the hell? Why are you hear?’
‘Was it an accident? Or did you kill them? I got to know. ‘
‘ ehh I was a mixup. I was checking out a break in. I wasn’t even supposed to be on duty. And they saw me. It was me or them I just did what my training told me to. Duck for cover and stay alive.’
‘But you killed them.. and you killed Him!!’ His seemed to get angry at that. His voice was getting agitated and I think I finally understood why the criminals fear him.
‘Sir! I didn’t.. you know how it is these guys don’t let that stop them they will come back. Maybe it was a stand in?’ I tried to be cheerful but why the hell. I felt my self getting angry. ‘Yeah I killed that psycho. And he deserved it, you should have killed him long time ago. Maybe I would not have to go to so many damn funerals of my colleges! I did by accident what you could not get yourself to do. Make the city safer for everybody.
He just drank. ‘ Was it quick? Did he die quickly?’
‘yeah I’m trained to shoot for the head. They all went down quickly, he didn’t even have time to laugh.’ At that he tossed the bottle at wall and started crying. ‘ what now.. what now?’
I looked at him surprised and then sighted ‘ Now you go home and sleep. I’m sure there will be other bad guys for you to beat up then.. wait your driving right? ‘
He nodded between his sobs and I sighted. ‘ Okey you sleep here tonight. Make yourself conferrable on the couch . ‘ I went to get him a blanket damn I hate Bats.
| |
[WP] A man accidentally kills his town's most psychotic supervillian; he then finds his town's superhero, drunk and in tears, at his house a couple of days later. | "He loved me, did you knew that?" - Charlie Roberts, most commonlly known as Ice Savior told me between sobs and tequila shots. -"We where in this together. Alejandro, umm... Tarantulaman knew how I always craved the attention, and how my super powers lasted for the small and unfair of amount of time that they did. "
I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and Mr. Roberts, with a high stench of tequila coming out of his mouth, kept shouting at me.
"My powers only lasted from summer of '98 to 2006. I was a legend. I met Alejandro at Hero Camp, when he was still trying to control his muscular hands from all of the web exploding everywhere but the target. It was love at first sight. And as quick as our love grew, my powers disappeared. I blamed this all on him, on my poor, sweet Alejandro. I knew the coldness from my heart had melted, and I wasn't able to do the things I did before, not on the same intensity. So we came up with a plan..."
He stopped talking as another round of shots came for him, he shared none with me, of course. He grabbed the two shots and the glass quickly became tarnished with cold. "Fuck."- he whispered as the cheap tequila passed through his throat. His eyes became more red by the second. My silent indicated he could continue talking, not that a man like him needed my permission.
"We would set up all these spider web traps created by him. There where zero deaths in our city, and you all thought they where thanks to me, when all of this time, a possibility of death never existed. Alejandro did all of this because he loved me. He ended with his reputation, friends and family, just to make me taste my glory days again. But you knew nothing of this, didn't you...you spoiled little brat."
I wanted to smile, but knew it would become too dangerous to get Ice Savior more mad in a moment like this. Somehow my silence always managed to get more words out of his mouth.
"He wasn't capable of killing, but I am. But I'm not going to kill you kid, because I know better than no one how it feels to linger with all of your soul that feeling of glory, to be recognized, to do the right thing; And your fate is worse than death, because your going to have to live with yourself, and the thought of knowing you killed someone who simply loved too much."
A 167 dollar tab, followed by a shot of tequila came my way. The waitress had over heard everything, and knew I needed a drink that night too. As Ice Savior shut the door, all of the floor including the door became frozen.
I finally smiled. I had frozen his heart again; I had returned Ice Savior, my favorite hero, back to life. | The phone buzzed in my pocket as I unlocked the door and I ignored it. Probably another TV show who wanted an interview. There had been a couple already. They all wanted to interview me for just doing my job. Just for getting in a few lucky shoot and take down the bastard and take a gang of crazies. Villains where not a word I would use on those people. I remember when it happened I first though I had shot some stupid cosplayers. Then we discovered it was the real deal.
They had attacked me and fuck me if I was going to hide and wait for the Hero to show up. I didn’t become a police officer to hide from bad guys. Yeah I know the instruction. If we encounter these guys we are supposed to report in and wait. Let the big guy take care of them. I’m not dying for him to look great in the news. Beside I was not even supposed to be there. I was covering for Johnson shift and why would these guys stand in an abandoned warehouse and argue loudly about how to kill the big guy?
I switched on the light and nothing happened. I tried a few more time and cursed as I used the light of my cell to find the next switch.
‘Don’t bother turning on the light. I removed the fuse’
I turned towards sound. And there was the big guy sitting in my couch with a bottle of my vodka. I just stared. This was the last thing I expected. ‘What the hell? Why are you hear?’
‘Was it an accident? Or did you kill them? I got to know. ‘
‘ ehh I was a mixup. I was checking out a break in. I wasn’t even supposed to be on duty. And they saw me. It was me or them I just did what my training told me to. Duck for cover and stay alive.’
‘But you killed them.. and you killed Him!!’ His seemed to get angry at that. His voice was getting agitated and I think I finally understood why the criminals fear him.
‘Sir! I didn’t.. you know how it is these guys don’t let that stop them they will come back. Maybe it was a stand in?’ I tried to be cheerful but why the hell. I felt my self getting angry. ‘Yeah I killed that psycho. And he deserved it, you should have killed him long time ago. Maybe I would not have to go to so many damn funerals of my colleges! I did by accident what you could not get yourself to do. Make the city safer for everybody.
He just drank. ‘ Was it quick? Did he die quickly?’
‘yeah I’m trained to shoot for the head. They all went down quickly, he didn’t even have time to laugh.’ At that he tossed the bottle at wall and started crying. ‘ what now.. what now?’
I looked at him surprised and then sighted ‘ Now you go home and sleep. I’m sure there will be other bad guys for you to beat up then.. wait your driving right? ‘
He nodded between his sobs and I sighted. ‘ Okey you sleep here tonight. Make yourself conferrable on the couch . ‘ I went to get him a blanket damn I hate Bats.
| |
[WP] A man accidentally kills his town's most psychotic supervillian; he then finds his town's superhero, drunk and in tears, at his house a couple of days later. | After the medal ceremony, there was the reception. Then there was the receiving of the key to the city. Then there was the handshakes, and the baby-forehead-kissing, and the speeches. And then I went home, 72 hours after accidentally feeding The Destructonaut peanut butter French toast instead of chocolate at the Denny's where I work.
As I open the door to my apartment, I'm met with a scene that would make even a frat boy want to pick up a Swiffer. I can only describe the smell as the combination of months-old Chinese takeout, stripper piss, and desperation. And booze. A lot of booze.
"Y-y-you stupid bastard." I recognized the voice -- I had heard it deliver a speech a few hours after The Destructonaut's demise. Though, honestly, that voice sounded a hell of a lot more heroic than this one.
"Captain Construction? Sir, what's going on?" I tiptoe over the dozens of broken bottles to get a closer look at the pride and joy of Middleville.
He’s flopped on the couch, with his fluorescent cape crumpled up on the carpet and his arms and legs splayed out around him like a starfish. A drunk, muscular, starfish with impeccable bone structure and the BAC of Aunt Helen after a particularly crazy night at her book club. His bright yellow Lycra costume is stained with things I don't want to know about.
"Y-y-you dumb stupid p-p-prick." He flops his hand in a half-hearted gesture, and the bottles by the couch construct themselves into a remarkably unstable wall in front of me.
“What are you talking about? I don’t understand. Is this about The Destructonaut?” The bottles crash to the floor.
“Of course it’s about the Gestaponot you, you, you fuckin’ idiot. You killed him. You killed him!” He reaches for the extra-large bottle of Everclear I keep around for cleaning and takes a swig.
“What the hell do I do now? I don’t have nothing to do here anymore.” He’s started to sob again. I start to back away, but he lunges for my arm and pulls me onto the couch with him.
“Lemme… lemme tell you a s-s-story.” He hiccups. “Me and the, the Destuforgot went way back. Waaaaay. Back.” He flings his arm through the air as he talks. I duck.
“And even though the Erectoflop was, like, you know, a baaad baaad dude, you know? He and I were buddies! We knew how it was, you know?” I nod my head, more out of fear than compassion. He starts to pet my head.
“And now that he's dead, I ain’t got nothing to do around here! I don’t have a fuckin’ day job, you know. I’m a *hic* superhero!" He angrily brandishes the bottle in his hand as he talks.
"A-a-and then you had to go and fuck up the gig the Seductobot and I had!” He’s crushed the now-empty bottle of Everclear and is looking at at me with eyes that would have been more at home on a jaguar. I start to back away as he gains on me -- while I’m tripping on the glass on the floor he stomps on it like nothing can hurt him. Which, I guess, is true. It’s hard to believe a guy’s invincible when he’s on the verge of vomiting.
“Hey, hey, hey, man. Calm down! We’ll figure something out. It’s gonna be okay.” Suddenly, his gaze softens and he stops advancing.
“R-r-really?” He puts down the bottle. “Are you sure?” More hiccups and crying.
“Yeah, buddy. Now why don’t you get some rest and I’ll start cleaning this up, okay?”
“Okay.” he whimpers. I lead him back to the couch, dust off the pizza crusts from the cushions, and throw his dirty cape into the hamper on the way to my bed.
It’s been a long day. | The phone buzzed in my pocket as I unlocked the door and I ignored it. Probably another TV show who wanted an interview. There had been a couple already. They all wanted to interview me for just doing my job. Just for getting in a few lucky shoot and take down the bastard and take a gang of crazies. Villains where not a word I would use on those people. I remember when it happened I first though I had shot some stupid cosplayers. Then we discovered it was the real deal.
They had attacked me and fuck me if I was going to hide and wait for the Hero to show up. I didn’t become a police officer to hide from bad guys. Yeah I know the instruction. If we encounter these guys we are supposed to report in and wait. Let the big guy take care of them. I’m not dying for him to look great in the news. Beside I was not even supposed to be there. I was covering for Johnson shift and why would these guys stand in an abandoned warehouse and argue loudly about how to kill the big guy?
I switched on the light and nothing happened. I tried a few more time and cursed as I used the light of my cell to find the next switch.
‘Don’t bother turning on the light. I removed the fuse’
I turned towards sound. And there was the big guy sitting in my couch with a bottle of my vodka. I just stared. This was the last thing I expected. ‘What the hell? Why are you hear?’
‘Was it an accident? Or did you kill them? I got to know. ‘
‘ ehh I was a mixup. I was checking out a break in. I wasn’t even supposed to be on duty. And they saw me. It was me or them I just did what my training told me to. Duck for cover and stay alive.’
‘But you killed them.. and you killed Him!!’ His seemed to get angry at that. His voice was getting agitated and I think I finally understood why the criminals fear him.
‘Sir! I didn’t.. you know how it is these guys don’t let that stop them they will come back. Maybe it was a stand in?’ I tried to be cheerful but why the hell. I felt my self getting angry. ‘Yeah I killed that psycho. And he deserved it, you should have killed him long time ago. Maybe I would not have to go to so many damn funerals of my colleges! I did by accident what you could not get yourself to do. Make the city safer for everybody.
He just drank. ‘ Was it quick? Did he die quickly?’
‘yeah I’m trained to shoot for the head. They all went down quickly, he didn’t even have time to laugh.’ At that he tossed the bottle at wall and started crying. ‘ what now.. what now?’
I looked at him surprised and then sighted ‘ Now you go home and sleep. I’m sure there will be other bad guys for you to beat up then.. wait your driving right? ‘
He nodded between his sobs and I sighted. ‘ Okey you sleep here tonight. Make yourself conferrable on the couch . ‘ I went to get him a blanket damn I hate Bats.
| |
[WP] A man accidentally kills his town's most psychotic supervillian; he then finds his town's superhero, drunk and in tears, at his house a couple of days later. | “Really? No deductible payments required? No out-of-pocket either?” Derek asked with a sense of disbelief.
“No, sir. I see from your file that the police report lists you as the victim, and for whatever reason management has waived your deductibles. We hope that this’ll get back on the road quickly.” The woman he knew only as “Melissa” responded in a cheery voice, so saccharine that Derek felt she knew more about the situation than she let on. Her smile was evident even through the receiver.
“Oh, um, I see. Well, I guess I’ll take my car into the shop tomorrow and get the ball rolling?”
“Yes, sir. In the meantime, we certainly hope you’ll enjoy the loaner car that we had sent out to you. It should be waiting for you at your house.” Derek could hear the whites of Melissa’s teeth shimmer behind every word she spoke.
“Oh! Well thank you.”
“Thank you, sir, from me and the entire Progressive family. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“N-no, no, that should be it. Thank you, Melissa.”
“Thank *you,* sir,” Melissa repeated, “and thank you again for choosing Progressive. Have good weekend.”
“Thank you, you too. Goodbye.” Derek hung up the phone and slunk back into the faux-leather cushions of the taxi cab. Things had been moving way too fast, and his head and body were killing him. To top it off, just twelve hours ago he thought he’d be in jail for the rest of his life, or executed.
*********************************
His drinking had gotten out of control – much like his car was after trading between whiskey and gin for seven-straight hours that afternoon. On the way home his car began spinning wildly out of control, crossing the center lane of a busy downtown street and through a crosswalk. Suddenly there was a thud, then a sound like a pumpkin being dropped 10 stories, then a chunky and deep maroon caked across his windshield. The car came to a dead stop moments later after it had wrapped itself around a telephone pole, leaving a streak of red, entrails, and body parts in its wake.
Police arrived on the scene moments later and pulled Derek’s drunken heap out of the heap that remained of his Chevy. Two officers grabbed hold of Derek while two other officers entertained themselves by inspecting the remains of the unlucky bastard that were strewed across the street. “Sergeant!” one of the rookie’s inspecting the victim yelled. “You’d better look at this!”
Sergeant Rush strode over to the remains. The victim’s head resembled a watermelon that had been pulverized by Gallagher. Yet even without a face, there was no mistaking who the dead son-of-a-bitch was. *Curly amber-waved hair. A 357 Magnum – “CECILIA” inscribed on the butt of the gun. The psycho's calling card: an original pressing of “Bridge Over Troubled Water.”* Rush trembled as he leaned down, reached for the victim’s right forearm, and rolled up his sleeve, looking for the final sign that the vic was who Rush thought he was. The tattoo, the singular mark of the city’s most notorious villain, was right where it should be.
**Art is Murder. Murder is Art.**
There was no doubt. This drunken fool was able to do what no police officer, no DA, no judge or vigilante could manage over the past decade.
**He had stopped The Garfunkeler.**
*****************************
“No charge, sir! It’s *you* who should be charging *me!*” The cabbie smiled at Derek through his cigarette-stained teeth, pushing back the $40 Derek tried to offer him after dropping him off at his house. The cabbie echoed the praise the police officers gave Derek at the hospital after his stomach was pumped.
Derek unlocked his front door. His head was spinning - it was all unreal. He was racked with guilt for the life he had taken, and yet people were treating him like a vigilante Jesus Christ. But there was bound to be one person who would be upset with him. As it turns out, that person was sitting at Derek’s kitchen table, bottle in hand.
“I was wondering when you’d show,” The Simonizer said. “I hope you don’t mind, I helped myself to your whiskey while I waited.” The maroon leather of his full body suit and mask creaked with every movement of his body like the floorboards of Derek’s fixer-upper. The Simonizer looked Derek up and down, sizing Derek up before he kicked the chair opposite from him away from the table. “It looks like you need a drink as well. Sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
The Simonizer reached into a pocket on his utility belt, and pulled out something shiny that caught the morning sunlight and bounced it about the room. It took Derek’s eyes a moment to adjust before he could make out what it was – Cecilia. The Garfunkeler’s signature gun.
“How the hell-”
“The police are exceedingly generous to us superheroes, giving us access to all levels of the station. Including the evidence locker.” The Simonizer took another shot of whiskey before slamming the bottle on the table. “Besides, not much need for a dead man’s property to sit in an evidence locker when his killer goes free without charge, now is there?” The Simonizer looked Derek deep in the eyes while taking another shot of whiskey. Derek sat down meekly, wondering if the police had released him only to allow The Simonizer to exact revenge on him.
“You’ve had a bad night, Mr. Hoffman. Drunk driving. Car accident. Striking a pedestrian. *Why, it’s a miracle that no one IMPORTANT got hurt, now isn’t it?”* Was this contempt, praise, or just drunken rage coming from The Simonizer’s mouth?
“Look, The Simonizer--”
“Please, there’s no need to stand on ceremony now, not between us. You can call me Al.” No one knew The Simonizer’s true identity, but his martial art skills were legendary; The Simonizer was known to care not whether the people who felt the blunt end of his signature move – The Boxer – wound up in the hospital or the grave.
“Look, I don’t know why you broke into my house at 7:30am, but I--”
“Sssshhhhhh.” The Simonizer lifted a finger, silencing Derek. “Do you hear that? No police sirens. No calls from the mayor’s office, asking me to stop The Garfunkeler again from reigning terror upon the city. The Garfunkeler’s been dead for six hours, and already the sound of the silence is deafening. “No, instead they’re wondering who you are, whose chest they’re going to pin *your fucking medal on!”*
The table between them erupted from The Simonizer’s lightning quick Boxer attack, and exploded into a million shards of cheap balsawood. Before Derek could comprehend it, The Simonizer had him by the scruff of his collar, pressed *into* the wall as The Simonizer held the bottle of whiskey above Derek’s head. *“You son of a bitch! You took him from me! You took him from me!”*
Just as quickly, The Simonizer crumpled into a ball on the floor, sobbing over and over, *“You took him, you took him away, you bastard….”*
*************************************
“Cream or sugar?”
“No thanks, just black. And sorry about the table. Not my finest hour. I’ll pay for the damage.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
The Simonizer took a long sip of the coffee Derek had brewed during the twenty minutes The Simonizer was curled up on his floor and sobbing. He thought about his next words carefully. “Have you read much Dostoyevsky, Mr. Hoffman?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Well I love him. I first read *The Brothers Karamazov* when I was sixteen, and it was the first time that a book really opened my mind to the world. I re-read it every few years, just to see if it still speaks to me the same way that it did all those years ago.” The Simonizer put down his coffee and looked Derek deep in the eyes. “There is a line from the book that has always stuck with me. *‘The mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live for.’*
“Stopping The Garfunkeler was that *something* for me. *That* is what I lived for.” The Simonizer sighed, took a breath and shook his head. “But that’s all gone now. The city is safe, and my job was never fulfilled. The city doesn't need me. What’s worse, because you took out The Garfunkeler, people are going to think that they don’t need superheroes at all. That everyday citizens can take down the worst supervillains known to man. *You, Derek Hoffman,* not only killed The Garfunkeler, but you simultaneously signed my own death warrant. With a city at peace, I have no purpose, nothing to define my life.
“The city at peace was my dream. And now that that dream is real, my reality is no more.” The Simonizer walked to the window. The TV stations were parking their trucks on the street, the reporters setting up shop on Derek’s front lawn. “When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer.”
“Hans Gruber. Die Hard.”
“Too right, Mr. Hoffman, too right. I now have no more worlds to conquer.” He looked back at Derek, a wistful smile traced his lips. The Simonizer looked away and swiftly made for the door. “I’ve kept you too long, Mr. Hoffman. My apologies. If you’ll see from the window, the people want you now. You are their hero, the man who did what I could not. Enjoy your moment while it lasts, Mr. Hoffman, for all glory is fleeting.”
With a quick turn of the knob The Simonizer stepped into the morning. The press dutifully snapped pictures of The Simonizer emerging from Derek’s house before rushing into the entrance way, trying to get an exclusive with the city’s greatest hero, a hero powered on nothing but distilled grains and a totaled Chevy.
The Simonizer walked solitarily into the morning, leaving Derek to his new life.
“Well, I guess I could go hunt down the Neil Diamond Gang out in Capitol City now.” | It never used to be this bad, let me tell ya.
Back in the day, the capes, they all had a code, truth, justice, American way, all of that nonsense. Never thought much of it until it fell by the wayside, but it’s pretty easy to see these days it must’ve meant something. Or hell, maybe this is just where it was always leading and weren’t no one smart enough to turn us right the hell around when it was a thing that could be turned.
Nowadays they’re everywhere, and it’s not just the numbers, either. Used to be, they all kept to themselves, had a satellite station orbiting the planet looking down from on high thinking they were better’n your average Joe. Idiots. Course, maybe if they still had a station, or at least if they just had their one big group, there wouldn’t be teams of EMTs sorting through the heaps that used to be buildings down at one of their latest pissing contests.
I don’t know why the hell I’m even thinking about this shit any more, it’s probably that kid, he couldn’t have been older’n twenty, dumb shit. Comes around a corner with a knife in his hand talking to me-some stupid old man just on his way home from the liquor store with a bottle of cheap vodka-about traditions and earning his legacy, some half-cocked ideas about earning his stripes in blood. Couldn’t even say what came over me when he lunged. Maybe it was cause he was dressed up like The Monster-one of the old big bads, one of the biggest bads-and laughing his head off about respect and dues, or shit maybe it was just reflexes.
Either way he went down really fast, for all the fear of seeing someone dressed like The Monster coming at me-Christ did he ever look just like that son of a bitch-he had the fight sense of an excited poodle. Damn waste of good vodka, all over the ground. mixed with this young fool’s blood. Weren’t no one around, so I just got out of there, but I should have known that it wouldn’t be the end. These things never just end.
I swear though, he had that same look in his eyes…
So there I am, couple of days later, thinknig I’m in the clear, another body found in the street, bit of a story n the news, turns out that really was The Monster’s kid. Hard to imagine a willing woman putting herself out there for that jerk, at least one who survived. Just an old fool kidding himself, there’s no way whoever it was was willing. Not enough vodka to blot that one out.
I hear it even though I’m not supposed to, that small click that let’s you know your lock’s just been picked. Doc says my ears are going but he don’t know shit. Before the door opens I’ve got the bottle flipped around-another bottle? Christ I’m getting an MO going-and ready to bring down on the skull of the dumb punk who thinks he’s going to rob the frail old codger at the end of the street.
I almost do it too, but it’s a lot harder to bring yourself to kill a girl… Especially a crying girl. Especially a crying girl dressed up like Madame Justice. Rookie mistake, I had the drop on her and then I let her see me with the bottle still raised and tackle me. I feel that familiar snap that means something is fractured, judging by the searing pain, that’s my arm made useless right there. I just barely manage to roll on my back in time to see her diving on top of me. If it weren’t for muscle memory I’d already be a dead man, the way she brings that Staff of Justice down, but I can smell the booze on her breath, and I manage to roll my head to the side and bring my legs up for a solid hit from behind she probably wasn’t expecting from an old fart like me. This old fart still has some fight in him, though, and this is my damn house.
So there I am rolling around with this girl on my floor, looks like she’s about half past puberty, few weeks back I mighta been writing about this in my dream journal or some pansy shit like that. She fast, and when I try to make another solid kick at her she gets out of the way and jabs at my fucked up arm. Smart, someone taught her well. Come to think of it, she does look a lot like Madame Justice…
“Cassie?”
She stops in her tracks. Hit it on the head, then. Stupid blind old man, of course that’s Cassie. Of course she’d want to take after her mother. If I weren’t so busy trying to duke it out with a kid who shouldn’t even be drinking, I could have put it together in time to stop this silliness before my arm was in dire need of a split.
“How… I mean…”
“Relax girl.” I say, trying to sound like she didn’t knock the crap out of me. Like she wouldn’t have probably had me beat if she didn’t have that brown bottle flu stumble. “How’s your mother doing? I haven’t seen Maggie in years. You neither, for that matter.”
Now she looks proper confused. I used to get off on that kind of shit, making people wonder how in the hell I’d pieced together stuff. Actually, it still feels kinda good. “The last time I saw you you were barely even walking. Why on God’s green earth are you trying to break into my house and crack my skull open, child?”
Oh Christ, there go the tears again. Next thing I know she’s sitting on my couch, bawling her little eyes out about how she was applying to one of those new super societies and they told her she had to deal with this kid calling himself ‘The Son of the Monster’ or she would never get accepted into their elitist ranks. Says she found his body, and made a snap decision to take credit for it, with no one around and all, but these days there’s cameras everywhere, and when people look into it, there’s me with my alcoholic surprise. She even laughs a little bit saying The Brotherhood-that’s what these young punks are calling themselves now-were joking that they should take me in instead of her, told her she’d never get a spot.
It’s making some kind of teenage sense to me now. She goes out, gets a few drinks, can’t tell mommy she didn’t make it into the legion of assholes, has a few more, gets it in her head maybe knocking me off will prove herself to these new cape wannabees. All of it’s stupid, of course, but what do you expect from a kid who doesn’t have any guidance. I do it almost before I know what it is I’m doing and the wall slides back revealing a lot of gear. Never had the cash for a proper lair or nothing, but a slideaway wall was actually pretty reasonable after a few talks with the guy who worked the hardware store at the time.
Stupid things really, haven’t looked at them in more’n a decade. Well mostly, things still need dusting and it’s only proper to make sure things still work, time to time. Now Cassie’s eyes light up and she just looks up at me like she broke the arm of the big man himself. “C…..Captain… Hero?” Christ what a stupid name. If I could go back all those years and slap young me in the face for picking it, I damn well would.
“Yeah, once upon a time. Look kid, not for nothing, but if you want, I can… I don’t know, train you? You’ve got some of your mother’s skill for sure, but if you’re going to be a hero proper, and not, I repeat NOT one of those talentless schmoes wouldn’t even make it past the first stage of testing for The Legion, you’re going to need a bit more polishing… and a bit less booze, you smell like you slept in a bus station.”
‘Shut it old man, you’re no good to anyone.’ ‘You don’t know a god damned thing about me you decrepit sack of shit.’ ‘What is a sad old bastard like you going to teach me, you can’t even put on your shoes with that busted up arm of yours!’ I was expecting one of those, not those big doe eyes going up and down as she nodded enthusiastically, saying she’ll come back tomorrow bright and early and all dried out.
Not how I expected today to turn out, but broken arm and all, I’ve had worse days. I just hope I can see the looks on those clowns’ faces when they see what a real hero looks like for the first time. Hell, maybe this’ll even be fun.
| |
[WP] You are trying to play chess, but the pieces keep telling you which moves they think are better. | "Yeah, we talk, so what? Shouldn't this make your life easier to have experience from the field?"
Well, fuck. I don't know, you're the black king, maybe? As a piece? Plastic isn't normally sentient? This is what I was confronted with upon sitting down to play my second round of my local open for 2014. I was destroyed in the first one by a kid with a USCF rating 800 points higher than mine (desperado is fucking stupid when not fully calculated, just saying) and had moved on to play a much more comfortable 400-point deficit against a man who I had lost against last year. I tended to be a passive player, but I hardcore studied this time and was ready to go in for the attack.
Well, was.
I was black in the opening, so I decided to try standard opening and wait for a poorly timed tempo-waster to go in for the attack.
1.d4
Standard Queen Pawn, I suppose. Births both aggressive lines and standard lines - a sharp rod.
"Dare you to play the Old Benoni - sharp as all hell, man." said my c2 pawn.
"Come on, I haven't even studied the theory for that yet! Let me stick with the basics." I mentally responded, before realizing I'd become too comfortable with the concept. Oh well, being insane isn't TOO bad.
"Get fucking wasted with the Englund Gambit, mate! It'll confuse the fuck out of your opponent!"
"No, fuck you, e2 pawn. I'll stick with Queen Pawn as usual."
1...d5
"Ten bucks he's going with Queen's Gambit - play the Slav, I fucking dare you!"
"Nah, dude, Levitsky is tricky! He'll fuck you up with that, won't he?"
"VERESOV FTW!"
"For fuck's sake, can I just play my fucking game the way I want to?"
After saying that, I paused and covered my mouth in horror. I'd made two fatal mistakes - one, I'd said it out loud as loud as fucking possible, and two, I was playing a backgammon tournament.
Fuck, not again. | "Alright," I murmur to myself, getting into the zone. "Let's go for a Scholar's Mate. Quick, painless. This kid won't see it coming..."
The little kid across the table from me strained to hear what I was mumbling- but even if he did he wouldn't know what I was saying, would he? How would this scrub know what a scholar's mate was? He'd soon learn, eh. I chuckled to myself. Say what you want about me, but I know how to choose an opponent I can beat.
As my hand reached for the first pawn I could have sworn I heard a strained whisper in the room- "Stop! You're making a big mistake!"
I scowled at the kid who looked scared and nodded as he concentrated on his turn.
The room began to spin as I found my eyes focus on the Bishop. "You are making a missttttaaaakkkkeee!" Came the eerie voice again, this time deeper. It sounded like the kind of old man you might find as a Bishop... and certainly not like the little shit opposite me.
"How are you doing that, kid?" I snarled.
"I-I didn't do anything, I-I just t-took my turn..." he snivelled.
"Can't you hear it?"
"Hear what?"
That was when I took my turn and realized- the voice had been right! The kid's knight burst out of the ranks and captured my bishop. I heard screams come from outside the board as my bishop was taken away, and the other pieces began to moan... the other Bishop cried manly tears, and I started to go mad. | |
[WP] You can't die until your name is spoken for the last time. | I never should have spoken to the damn gypsy.
That’s really where the problems started. That’s the reason for why I’m stuck here now, naked and wandering somewhere between the Andromeda Galaxy and the Triangulum Galaxy. At least I didn’t wander into a star or a black hole yet, so I can enjoy the visuals. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time, though.
Time. Time. I have all of that to spare. I’m so old at this point I don’t think most calculators could display my age (as if there is anything that can be called a calculator anymore). I’m fairly certain that my perception of time has sped up, too, but it's hard to tell in the inky blackness that surrounds me.
Everyone thinks that immortality is so great. “You get to live forever! Who wouldn’t want that?” I remember my wife saying that, however many billions of years ago. I thought I was smarter than her. “Immortality would get boring pretty quick,” I said. “You’d only want to live for as long as there were people around to talk about you.”
And so you can imagine I thought I was the most brilliant man alive when I rescued that man from a mugger on the street. And it wasn’t even with good intentions. That I realize now. I thought I’d end up in the papers; thought I’d at least be a minor celebrity for a bit. People would think me so heroic. Damn young fool I was!
Oh yes, I said that I thought I was brilliant. As it turns out, the hobo claimed himself to be some sort of “gypsy warlock” or something. Said that he could use magic, and could make any dream I wanted to come true. And this is where we come to the immortality bit, and my supposed “brilliance.” I didn’t want immortality. I just wanted to be famous for as long as possible. And that’s where my wish came from. “I wish that I couldn’t die until my name was spoken for the last time.” That’s how I phrased it, thinking that it would be flawless. I thought it was logical; I’d be around for as long as anyone cared. And then when I was finally a nobody again I could pass.
Well, I definitely can’t pass. That much he had delivered on. But the specifics, it seemed, were ignored. I haven’t met another soul for billions and billions and billions of years. I can’t possibly know how long it’s been. And yet here I am, floating along endlessly, waiting for the end of the universe to finally come. Whenever that will be. But then, I don’t even know if that will finally end this misery.
It was pleasant enough at first. I, of course, did become a sensation. Quite easily the most famous person in history. Because I couldn’t die. It wouldn’t happen. Even if I sustained an injury, somehow it’d heal up. I was like goddamn Deadpool. I’d like to say that I did good things with this power, but that would be a lie. I just rolled in money and fame. But after a few thousand years I got… bored. I didn’t have any meaning beyond just being. People even stopped caring about me, and my wife had died millennia ago. I realized how much I wanted death. But I couldn’t have it. However much I was no longer in the public eye people still remembered me occasionally. I was someone’s school report, or mentioned every few months on that website that took over half the Internet… Reading It or something. I don’t even remember. And then thousands of years became millions. People had been changing. Humanity wasn’t humanity anymore. They were something different. But I was the same. And with that I became famous again, an oddity, and after repeating over the eons I had no idea how long it would take before I’d finally, truly, become forgotten.
I thought I’d finally see my death when the Sun turned red and the seas cooked and the Earth became a barren rock. But I was still alive. I was the only thing still alive when the Sun exploded. I was still alive as I was hurtled into space amidst the debris of my home planet. And I was still alive as I flew through space, even now.
Why?
How?
It shouldn’t have been this way. I shouldn’t be alive anymore. There’s no one left! Everyone is dead. No one knows my name anymore. Billions and billions of years and I have never even met an extraterrestrial. Could there be some other species that picked up our radio signals and screams my name to some alien moon every night as a cruel joke? No one else knows my name! No one else knows who I am! No one else…
No one else…
No one *else.*
I need to find a planet with an atmosphere. | "Today, we will remember the death of a loved one. Timothy wouldn't want us to mourn his death, but to remember his acts and life. Every one of us sitting in this room today have been affected, and have affected this great man." The man paused to wipe a tear.
"Sadly, we have to say goodbye to him, last week."
Timothy stared at the church. On one side, he wishes he could greet them again. On the other, he can't wait to truly 'die', so he can visit the much better life awaiting him. | |
[WP] You can't die until your name is spoken for the last time. | Thooduno Thooduno Thooduno. Uuduno Uuduno Uuduno. Vuduno Vuduno Vuduno. Oh hello. Sorry don't mind me. Listen, its a bit of a story to explain what I'm doing so maybe... okay sure, I've got time. Some time ago, I crossed my village's oracle. I stole a little idol from her hut. She had like 80, I didn't think she'd notice. Well, she did. And she cursed me.
It sounds like such a minor thing now, but back then her curses were legendary. Every single one came true in the most horrific way possible. And to me she said "You will hear your name 3 times. Upon the 3'rd you will die." I could feel it. She was right. Somehow that dirty witch wove those words into my very being. So I did the only thing I could think of. I ran.
I went from village to village, giving a fake name. I'd never stay anywhere more than a few years, always treated as an outsider. Communities used to be very insular, very distrustful of outsiders. So I'd stay until the murmurs of a mob forming would start, then on to the next town. But soon I started to realize how many times I had done this. So many town. I couldn't even remember them all. How long had I been wandering? I never have been able to figure it out.
As time went on, I've been attacked, I've been drowned, I even got sealed inside a friggin iron maiden for what I assume to be the better part of a generation. It all hurts, I feel every bit of gnawing hunger pang or sharp screaming pain from an injury, but I'm never hurt. I don't die. I CAN'T die. Not until I hear my name three times. I think that witch KNEW what she was doing. She knew what would happen. All I would want is to finally end this wandering existence... but I've forgotten. I've forgotten my name. So now I spend my eternity trying every combination of syllables. My entire life is such a blur that I forget most of my mother-tongue, but I figure every guttural combination of syllables possible with a human mouth should cover it.
From my figuring, I'm about 1/5000'th of the way through all possible combinations, going up through 6 syllables. But hey... I've got time. If you'll excuse me.
Wooduno Wooduno Wooduno. Xuduno Xuduno Xuduno. Yooduno Yooduno Yooduno.....
---
As always, constructive criticisms to help me improve are welcome. I will also accept glowing praise or childish name calling. | "Today, we will remember the death of a loved one. Timothy wouldn't want us to mourn his death, but to remember his acts and life. Every one of us sitting in this room today have been affected, and have affected this great man." The man paused to wipe a tear.
"Sadly, we have to say goodbye to him, last week."
Timothy stared at the church. On one side, he wishes he could greet them again. On the other, he can't wait to truly 'die', so he can visit the much better life awaiting him. | |
[WP] A prepper and his family evacuated to a remote bug out location. 12 months later and supplies running low he risks venturing into the outside world only to discover he has made the biggest mistake of his life. | Kate warily opened the vault door, steeling herself for anything that might await her on the other side. They had all heard the screams, the rumbling, the deafening crashes for months on end. Who knew what would still be out there, one year after the apocalypse?
Still, they no longer had a choice. Food was running out and her family wouldn't survive another week. They had to go out and forage for something, anything, that could help them last just a little bit longer.
As light poured in from the outside, Kate signaled for her husband to stay back. She took a step forward, then two, then three; her handheld Geiger counter kept mercifully quiet. Suddenly, she gasped. There was something on the ground ahead of her, right at the mouth of the small cave their fallout shelter had been built into.
Kate took one more step, eyeing the form carefully. She stood there for long moments as her husband and their children cowered in the darkness of the vault. Minutes later, after the figure had showed no sign of movement, she gently prodded it with her shoe. Its head rolled off, then crumbled half to dust.
She froze. It was a corpse. Burnt to a crisp and battered by the elements, but it was recognizable as human. Her heart wrenched in her chest. It was far too small to be an adult. But thankfully, it couldn't hurt her family, and that's what counted--
Her blood ran cold.
Kate quickly turned around. Her husband was there, along with her nephews, nieces, daughters and sons. 9 in total. There had always been 9. Her safety number. But now something was different, as if she'd just remembered something she should have known all along. In her initial panic, she had counted her husband. But Peter didn't count. He wasn't part of the 9. They had been missing one child all along.
Kate turned back to the desiccated corpse in front of her. In horrific realization, she clasped her cheeks and screamed.
"KEVIN!" | What's a prepper | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | - Agh, it's been ages since I've actually talked to anyone, and I don't really think anyone likes me... What can I do..?
- OH! I know! I found a tutorial online on how to make friends! This surely should help me out!
- So here it says "light 6 candles, 5 in a circle, and one in the center", and there we g-
*suddenly a giant flash of heat and flames appears before him*
> **It is I, the Dark Lord! King of the underworld and the second hand of the Universe! Are you aware of what you have done, mere human!?**
- Sorta, I read this tutorial about making friends, and followed the first step...
*turns computer screen towards the Dark Lord*
> **So, by following this *tutorial* on the Internet, you somehow summoned me, the Dark Lord!?**
- A friend's a friend, I guess. It reminds me, I completed the Binding of Isaac earl-
> **THE WHAT!?**
- The Binding of Isaac, it's a fun little game about a child whose mother wants to sacrifice him to god.
> **The Dark Lord has no interest in silly video games!**
- You're in it
> **I... Am?**
- Yeah, you're the final boss!
> **Hmm, to think such a silly thing would honor me, wait. Does that mean I get killed?**
- Sorta, but it's damn difficult to do.
> **THE DARK LORD CANNOT BE KILLED! WHAT MORTAL WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO THINK THAT!?**
- Game creators can do whatever they want, you know. They make the games, not you. It's only a representation anyway, you'd kill a baby in seconds if it wanted to go against you, wouldn't you?
> **Hell no! What kind of-? I may be the Dark Lord, but even *I* have morals!**
- I guess that explains why you haven't killed me yet.
> **I'll only kill you if you're a good person, from which I can see, isn't the case**
- Shall I continue the game? I'll replay the Dark Lord battle, to show you what I meant earlier.
> **Oh, alright. I'm taking you to Hell afterwards, though. It does get a bit lonely there, and your nonsense intrigues me. You said you had no friends, so it doesn't matter, does it?**
- Guess not, being the prince of Hell would be quite fun
> **Whoa, I never said you're becoming the Prince! You've gotta earn that!**
- Don't worry. Here it is
*Final boss battle begins*
> **Wha-? That doesn't look anything *like* me! Do these people even know what I look like!? I don't have ugly goat legs like that!**
____________
That was my first go, and I'm not too sure how I feel about that. I hope you like it! |
I know you don't want to be picked last again, so what do ya say, maybe Ryan over there will get into an accident." Laraxes spoke gently.
"NO!" Caleb hissed. Indeed when it came to picking teams, it always came down to him and Ryan.
"Leave him be Laraxes. Do you have to come with me to school? On my spelling test?
"Oh, weren't you the one, begging for a friend, and then wished I could be real."
Laraxes had the truth of it. Caleb was a quiet child, with few talents, or friends. When Larry the lion mentioned there was a way to make a friend. Caleb couldn't wait to draw a rune, that mirrored a red river
"You're right, I did bring you here. And don't forget that I can unbring you too."
"But I'm your Satan soul Caleb, Laraxes purred. "What are you going to do without me.
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Luna took out the homemade Ouija board she had been crafting for the past week. *Not the most conventional method of making friends...* she thought. She didn't have much choice, though. Her parents had divorced, her dad moving up into the reclusive mountains. This is where she was to spend her summer.
She was only sixteen, but had researched countless hours on the internet about Ouija boards, black magic, demons, etc. she was finally ready to begin.
Setting up the candles in the attic, she placed the makeshift board down and put the planchette above the G as the online guides suggest. After a few seconds of nothing, she moves it in a round motion. Finally, it starts to move.
*H-E-L-L-O*
"Hello. My name is Luna. What is yours?" She spoke excitedly, shocked it was working.
*Y-O-U-S-H-O-U-L-D-N-T-B-E-D-O-I-N-G-T-H-I-S-A-L-O-N-E-L-U-N-A*
"Why not?" She asked the board.
*Y-O-U-D-O-N-T-K-N-O-W-W-H-O-C-O-U-L-D-B-E-O-N-T-H-E-O-T-H-E-R-S-I-D-E*
Luna looked at the printouts she had brought with her. *Users may not get more than yes or no answers; this depends on the strength of the spirit. If the spirit seems very strong, it's best to move the planchette to GOODBYE as they could be dangerous.*
She started to move the planchette, but a force that took her by surprise refused to allow her to do it.
*W-A-I-T*
She hesitated... "W-what do you want?"
*T-O-T-A-L-K-T-O-Y-O-U*
She took her fingers off the board and sat there thinking, weighing the pros and cons of the situation, when the board shook. The planchette moved by itself, first in a figure eight pattern, and then it counted down from 9-0.
Everything was silent as Luna grabbed the papers, trying to find...*here it is*... She realized her mistake.
*Hello Luna.* A deep voice hisses.
"Who a-are you?" She shudders at the sudden cold in the attic. It must have dropped twenty degrees.
*Hush, child. I don't wish to frighten you. Like I said, I just want to talk.*
Luna looked around but could see nothing, "What do you want to talk about?"
A chuckle. *You. Me. Us.*
"..us?"
*Sweet Luna. I have been observing you. What do you think has been pulling you towards the occult? Who do you think had your parents name you Luna, the name of the Moon and representative of the night? I have been with you since your birth, and at the ripe age of sixteen, it is your chance to come join me.*
"W-what do you mean? I'm not going anywhere with you!" She growled, still looking around the room. *How old even is this demon creep,* she thought.
*I am only 19 in the body, Luna, and I would appreciate if you would stop with the name calling.* Suddenly the booming voice sounded tired and impatient.
"I'm sorry," she said, unsure why. "What do you want from me? Why me?"
*You're beautiful, and your pure spirit brings me joy. I would love to corrupt it.* Unbeknownst to her, Lucifer was walking around her, running his long fingers through her hair disguised as a whoosh of cold wind, feeding off the fear. She stayed silent. *All of the years of hardship you've endured, dear girl. You should never had had to go through that. Your uncle touching you... Your mom taking his side... Your dad leaving without his little princess. Why were you born into such a... Hell?*
"Don't talk about my uncle! I hate him! I hate him! And my mother too! What kind of mother would do that?!" She yelled to the nothingness. Then, quietly, "What kind of mother would do that?" She collapsed to the ground.
Lucifer held her in his lap, running his fingers through the soft black hair on her head and whispering in her ear, *You can get revenge on them all. We can, together. What do you have left in this world?*
She sat there, starting to feel the big arms around her, as silent and still as stone.
*You have an alcoholic mother-- a father who can't even look at you. You have nothing left here. Join me.*
"I can't," she spoke quietly.
*You can,* the voice spoke softly, placing something in her hand.
She looked down to see a box cutter.
*We can be together forever. I won't ever leave you like they all did.*
She sat for five minutes contemplating... She stood up finally, her limbs heavy. "This.." She spoke in a hushed tone, then screamed as loud as she could, "**This is for what you did to me!**" She cut the inside of her arm vertically, just like she had tried to do once before. Before, she stopped because of the pain. But this time, it was replaced with happiness. Lucifer was helping her. She cut herself all over, again and again and again and again, again, again, again, again, again, again, againagainagainagainagainagainagai- Until she couldn't lift her hand.
*You're ready to come home, Luna. Close your eyes. I've got you.* Lucifer carried her through the portal and into her eternal home.
Edit: wording & spelling
|
I know you don't want to be picked last again, so what do ya say, maybe Ryan over there will get into an accident." Laraxes spoke gently.
"NO!" Caleb hissed. Indeed when it came to picking teams, it always came down to him and Ryan.
"Leave him be Laraxes. Do you have to come with me to school? On my spelling test?
"Oh, weren't you the one, begging for a friend, and then wished I could be real."
Laraxes had the truth of it. Caleb was a quiet child, with few talents, or friends. When Larry the lion mentioned there was a way to make a friend. Caleb couldn't wait to draw a rune, that mirrored a red river
"You're right, I did bring you here. And don't forget that I can unbring you too."
"But I'm your Satan soul Caleb, Laraxes purred. "What are you going to do without me.
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The man felt a shiver run down his spine as he walked down the road, forcing him to stop midstep. He turned around to see a being in the darkness. In the dim light he could only make out the silhouette, but if the hair was anything to go by then it was female. He glanced at it fearfully, looking around for any onlookers, something about the situation making him hope that someone was there.
But no one was.
"Hi, uh... is there... anything I can help you with?"
The form shuffled slowly towards him, and he wanted to run away, but his feet felt heavy and bound. He couldn't bring himself to move, and his heart beat began to accelerate as his fear grew.
Sharp teeth peaked out into the light, like a shark's mouth, but there was no wide grin. Instead, it seemed not at all intimidating. "Why did you summon me from my plane?"
"Wh-what? I didn't-"
It lunged closer, and this time the man took several hasty steps backwards, almost falling to the ground, but managing to catch himself with his hand before he did. And then, instead of beating a hasty retreat, he stayed. More out of curiosity then some binding fear.
"Do not lie to me, Mortal." The voice shuffled like heavy curtains. "The demands of your heart pulled me from the realm of nightmares. Tell me why you have summoned me."
"I-" He looked at the monster, his fears giving way to the despair that he harbored in his soul. "I lost my pet bird the other day."
"That's all?" Anger grew in the voice. "You feel so horrible because you lost a bird?!"
"No, it's... My family doesn't talk to me any more, my wife divorced me, My job is nothing but a time sink with no chance for upward promotion. I just... I can't even take care of a bird. I'm so... stupid. I just want it to end."
The form slithered forward through the darkness. It looked at him with unreadable orbs of red, and lifted a claw away from it's body. The claw moved until it rested on his chest above his heart. "I see. Broken-hearted."
"Yea. Broken-hearted."
"Would you enjoy it if I stayed? I am in no hurry to return home."
"Heh, I don't think I have anything we could do."
"Do you have John Wayne?"
"Like, his movies?"
"Yes, I haven't seen one in a long time."
"Yea." The man smiled, looking into the red orbs that seemed so comforting at that moment. "Yea, I do." |
I know you don't want to be picked last again, so what do ya say, maybe Ryan over there will get into an accident." Laraxes spoke gently.
"NO!" Caleb hissed. Indeed when it came to picking teams, it always came down to him and Ryan.
"Leave him be Laraxes. Do you have to come with me to school? On my spelling test?
"Oh, weren't you the one, begging for a friend, and then wished I could be real."
Laraxes had the truth of it. Caleb was a quiet child, with few talents, or friends. When Larry the lion mentioned there was a way to make a friend. Caleb couldn't wait to draw a rune, that mirrored a red river
"You're right, I did bring you here. And don't forget that I can unbring you too."
"But I'm your Satan soul Caleb, Laraxes purred. "What are you going to do without me.
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Marcus tightened his grip on the steering wheel and felt the rubber flex under his palms. A bead of sweat found its way down its nose and he spat the salty foam over the windshield. "Oh, come on!" he screamed, stomping at the interior of the car. He watched the traffic lights like a hawk and as soon as they changed, the car accelerated forward in a mist of burnt rubber.
He punched the number into his phone again and it rang. "Pick it up, please God pick it up" he said through clenched teeth. But still the phone rang. He couldn't believe what was happening. He had kept up this charade for so long that any traces of guilt, shame or paranoia had almost vanished from his mind.
How could he have forgotten the maid was coming today? He had always been so careful, so precise with his secret. And it was quite the secret. It had driven him to the edge of sanity and back again. He had lost his job, his wife became more estranged than she was already, and both of his friends stopped returning his calls.
It had been a bad night. He felt lonely. And drunk. Someone, or something, had slipped that little scroll with the pentagram into his pocket. He always found himself much more vulnerable to the excesses of melodrama and fantasy when he was hammered, but even he would never had let himself believe anything so unnatural. He was a man of evidence and reason. How irrelevant those words seemed now. His world wasn't one of theory and science anymore, but one of eternal prophecy, divine authority and evil, ancient fury.
He wished that he had never turned the scroll over to see a note scribbled incongruously in biro. "6th June. 6am. Sunrise and blood." He laughed and turned over the scroll again to look in more detail at the pentagram on the front but found nothing on it. He turned it over again and again in his hands but could find no trace of the marks. His head swam with confusion and gin. He was a man of evidence and reason.
The 6th of June at 6am. A meadow under a new sky. A knife and a rat from the pet store. The sun rises and he drags the knife under the rat's throat, wipes the blade with the scroll and it burns, crumbles into ash. A ring of fire, horns, teeth, black eyes.
He had just been lonely.
"Hello, this is Julie if you'd like to lea-"
He hung the phone up. It didn't matter. He would be there in a moment. Just around that corner, second street on the right. The car screeched up the driveway and he leapt out the car, fumbled with his keys to get the door open and burst through the front door. He stood, frozen.
"A friend."
A familiar rumbling, hissing voice, that spat and popped like a fire, echoed from the basement. Marcus closed his eyes and wished he was somewhere else. Wished, and not for the last time, that he had never summoned the demon.
"A friend."
It repeated.
Marcus made his way down the basement, slowing his descent in terror of what would greet him. From between the beams of the staircase, he made out the figure of Julie. She was sat, her hands in her lap, quite calm and serene, with a fair-away look in her eyes. She turned her head to him and smiled a wide grin, its falseness betrayed by her dead eyes. Her mouth suddenly dropped open and hung there a moment. She spoke:
“I think we shall be great friends”
The demon was turned away from Marcus, but upon her statement, he began to turn his great, dark body round to face him. He extended his giant arm towards Julie, as if presenting his master a great gift.
It had happened again. He had asked for a friend, and it had delivered them.
One after the other.
Minds broken, just automatons, vessels for putrid, false sentiment. What could Marcus do but tell the demon to undo what he had done? Whether they went down, from where the demon had been born he knew not.
The monster smiled a little wider, in anticipation of what was to come. Marcus nodded his head in the slightest way possible and closed his eyes.
He had only wanted a friend. |
I know you don't want to be picked last again, so what do ya say, maybe Ryan over there will get into an accident." Laraxes spoke gently.
"NO!" Caleb hissed. Indeed when it came to picking teams, it always came down to him and Ryan.
"Leave him be Laraxes. Do you have to come with me to school? On my spelling test?
"Oh, weren't you the one, begging for a friend, and then wished I could be real."
Laraxes had the truth of it. Caleb was a quiet child, with few talents, or friends. When Larry the lion mentioned there was a way to make a friend. Caleb couldn't wait to draw a rune, that mirrored a red river
"You're right, I did bring you here. And don't forget that I can unbring you too."
"But I'm your Satan soul Caleb, Laraxes purred. "What are you going to do without me.
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The basement is dark, the only light is provided by the candles that are placed precisely at each point on the circle. Jacob finishes the incantation and stares at the center of the circle watching as a demon slowly rises through the floor. First, he sees the horns. Two on either side of the demon's head, slightly curled at the ends. Next is the demon's head. His eyes are closed and a single fang protrudes from his mouth. With each breath smoke is exhaled from him, filling the basement with the aroma of what reminded Jacob of a volcano.
Jacob sits down in a chair and puts his feet up on the chessboard, careful not to knock any of the pieces over. He leans in the chair and lets out a bored sigh.
"This is taking forever." He says to himself.
At last the demon stops. His eyelids shoot open revealing his red irises. They are not just red, they flicker and change to an orange and yellow periodically like they were fire themselves.
"I AM DRAKUS! LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD! WHAT DOES A MERE HUMAN LIKE YOU WANT WITH ME!" His voices booms, hot spit flying everywhere with each syllable spoken.
Jacob absentmindedly wipes the spit from his face and looks at Drakus, " I moved here a couple months ago and no one seems interested in being my friend."
Drakus lets out what seems to be a laugh, but it sounds more like a low rumble. Kind of what you hear before a strong earthquake hits. "And what do you think you would have accomplished by summoning me, human?"
"I dunno." Jacob shrugs and motions towards the chessboard. "I was hoping you would play a game of chess with me."
"Let me get this straight." Drakus scratches his head. "You summon the most powerful demon in the world and you want to play... chess?"
"Or checkers. I'm fine with both." Says Jacob.
"Wouldn't you rather start a war?" Drakus suggests.
"Nah." Jacob scratches the inside of his ear, seeming uninterested.
"How about we spread a plague?"
"Seems boring."
"Start the apocalypse?"
"Sounds messy."
"Possession?"
"Too much work."
Drakus sighs and takes his seat across from Jacob. Jacob shifts and sits up and makes the first move.
"I'm beginning to see why you have no friends." Says Drakus, moving his first pawn forward.
|
I know you don't want to be picked last again, so what do ya say, maybe Ryan over there will get into an accident." Laraxes spoke gently.
"NO!" Caleb hissed. Indeed when it came to picking teams, it always came down to him and Ryan.
"Leave him be Laraxes. Do you have to come with me to school? On my spelling test?
"Oh, weren't you the one, begging for a friend, and then wished I could be real."
Laraxes had the truth of it. Caleb was a quiet child, with few talents, or friends. When Larry the lion mentioned there was a way to make a friend. Caleb couldn't wait to draw a rune, that mirrored a red river
"You're right, I did bring you here. And don't forget that I can unbring you too."
"But I'm your Satan soul Caleb, Laraxes purred. "What are you going to do without me.
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "Well son of a bitch, it finally worked" Leo muttered under his breath as the carefully drawn runes on the floor began to glow in shifting shades of iridescent blue and red. His marked pessimism had only grown stronger with age, and as the void wretched itself open, and two grisly claws began to emerge from the nether, he thought to himself this will be a fitting end to his career as a summoner. His greatest achievement, would go unrecorded and unremembered.
It was not always so for Leo. There was a time in his life, where this summoning would have been celebrated as a grand display of his prowess. Leo's family was killed by the invading hordes from the East when he was young. At 12, he started practicing black magic as a student under a Dark Magician in the Imperial Army, who had taken to adopting orphaned youngsters who showed proficiency. His goal was to groom these children to serve as battle mages.
Leo instantly showed an affinity for summoning. His abilities quickly surpassed those of his peers. Soon he was enlisted as a battle mage, and sent out with a regiment of soldiers. With all the confidence in this world and the next, Leo charged into battle time and time again with these men. However, several mistakes were made. These were not the fault of Leo directly. Battle is unpredictable to say the least. The creatures Leo summoned were either inappropriate for the situation at hand, or were not powerful enough to route the enemy forces.
Word of these failures spread, and the command of the Imperial Army was not one to give second, let alone third, chances. Soon Leo's days as a battle mage were over. For the rest of his career, he was relegated to menial duties such as enchanting cursed arrows for the archers. Typical black magic apprentice work. Leo always wondered though, what life would been like had he been a successful summoner. He wondered about it until this very day, which he was suddenly snapped back to.
The demon, now fully materialized from the void, spoke to Leo. The demon obviously didn't make any real sound, but Leo could hear the voice audibly in his head. It could only be described as a young boy's voice and an old man's voice speaking simultaneously.
"Why have you brought me here?" The demon whispered into the back of his mind. Leo froze, then responded. "Honestly?"
The demon roared in Leo's mind "I will destroy you in a moment if you lie." The demon began to move. It's movements belied the ferocious tone it had just taken with it's summoner. It slowly rose from it's knees in front of the rift to the void, and stood up to reveal it's bipedal humanoid form. It appeared as only the darkest shadow, no other details could be seen.
Leo, for the first time in this whole ordeal, began to feel a tinge of fear. He responded carefully. "I summoned you, for no other reason, than to see if I could." He slowly looked down at this spell book, averting his eyes from the demon.
"You old fool!" the demon hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"I am aware" Leo responded, without lifting his gaze.
"Then you know I am endless torment! I am the plague and the purge. My many names are written in blood across the battlefields of this plane. You will sacrifice greatly for bringing me here wizard! You will now know the *true* meaning of loss and sorrow!"
"I only have my life" Leo responded, almost interrupting the demon from waxing poetic. "When I attempted the summoning, I knew my life would most likely be forfeit. I have accepted that. I do not desire to love longer as it is."
In the blink of an eye, The demon closed the 15 meter gap between it and Leo. It now had it's hand around Leo's throat, and it's "face" was inches from Leo's own. The demon snarled, as it searched Leo's soul and saw what he had said was true.
"Your miserable life means nothing to me" the demon said. "I will harvest all you hold dear. I will reap your family, your closest friends, and hang them in my storehouse. There they will suffer for eternity, as a profane reminder as to the consequences of a mortal beckoning me forth."
"Friends, Family?" Leo said somberly. "They are all gone. Have been for quite some time. I am alone in this world. I have nothing, I have no one. I summoned you demon, simply to remember what it's like to speak to another being. There was a famine last year, and everyone headed south to find food. I remained behind, as I had no one to travel with. I think I may be the last man in the north. If I am not, I have yet to see another one. Anyway, this spring, my crops failed. Soon I will be out of food. I am too old and my health is too poor to try and complete the journey south now. No, I am well aware of my fate. I brought you here, just to speak to someone If only for one last time."
The demon was absolutely motionless. It stared into Leo's eyes for what seemed like hours but was only a few moments. It searched his soul completely, and found everything he said to be true.
In a flash, the demon drew a sword from it's back. The smell of burning flesh and sulfur instantly filled the room. It slashed at Leo at an almost inperceivable speed. The blade avoided killing him by millimeters. Instead, it left a gash on his left cheek, which instantly cauterized and closed. The slash also opened a new rift back into the void.
"No mortal, you will suffer greatly" The demon spoke directly into Leo's mind. "Congratulations wizard, you are the only human who has ever been in my presence and lived." And with that, the demon stepped back into the void, and vanished.
Leo's old heart was close to failure it had been beating so hard. Slowly, he regained his breath, and sat down. What had he just done? He had just completed summoning the most powerful being he had ever summoned in his entire life. Possibly the greatest summoning in the history of the discipline! He could hardly believe what had just happened.
Perhaps he was worth something after all! Leo's mind began to work in a way it had not in many years. Maybe he was important! If his spirit was powerful enough to save him from the lord of the void, maybe he would stand a chance leaving this God forsaken farm and heading south. South to people. South to civilization.
Leo immediately grabbed his cloak and his staff. He would summon a lightning horse and be off to the south. No use sitting here any longer, only death awaited him. But when he unbarred the door to his cabin, it would not budge. Frantically he heaved with his whole body weight, but the door would not open. Leo began screaming and clawing at the timber panel, but nonetheless, it would not give way.
Finally, he tried casting a fire spell on the door, hoping to kick away the cinders and escape before the entire cabin burned. But as he finished the incantation, instead the mark on his cheek simply began to glow. The spell itself never materializing. The harder he tried to cast his magic, the greater the glow from his wound. He had been silenced. And he remained in that cabin, alone, for the rest of time.
|
I know you don't want to be picked last again, so what do ya say, maybe Ryan over there will get into an accident." Laraxes spoke gently.
"NO!" Caleb hissed. Indeed when it came to picking teams, it always came down to him and Ryan.
"Leave him be Laraxes. Do you have to come with me to school? On my spelling test?
"Oh, weren't you the one, begging for a friend, and then wished I could be real."
Laraxes had the truth of it. Caleb was a quiet child, with few talents, or friends. When Larry the lion mentioned there was a way to make a friend. Caleb couldn't wait to draw a rune, that mirrored a red river
"You're right, I did bring you here. And don't forget that I can unbring you too."
"But I'm your Satan soul Caleb, Laraxes purred. "What are you going to do without me.
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | - Agh, it's been ages since I've actually talked to anyone, and I don't really think anyone likes me... What can I do..?
- OH! I know! I found a tutorial online on how to make friends! This surely should help me out!
- So here it says "light 6 candles, 5 in a circle, and one in the center", and there we g-
*suddenly a giant flash of heat and flames appears before him*
> **It is I, the Dark Lord! King of the underworld and the second hand of the Universe! Are you aware of what you have done, mere human!?**
- Sorta, I read this tutorial about making friends, and followed the first step...
*turns computer screen towards the Dark Lord*
> **So, by following this *tutorial* on the Internet, you somehow summoned me, the Dark Lord!?**
- A friend's a friend, I guess. It reminds me, I completed the Binding of Isaac earl-
> **THE WHAT!?**
- The Binding of Isaac, it's a fun little game about a child whose mother wants to sacrifice him to god.
> **The Dark Lord has no interest in silly video games!**
- You're in it
> **I... Am?**
- Yeah, you're the final boss!
> **Hmm, to think such a silly thing would honor me, wait. Does that mean I get killed?**
- Sorta, but it's damn difficult to do.
> **THE DARK LORD CANNOT BE KILLED! WHAT MORTAL WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO THINK THAT!?**
- Game creators can do whatever they want, you know. They make the games, not you. It's only a representation anyway, you'd kill a baby in seconds if it wanted to go against you, wouldn't you?
> **Hell no! What kind of-? I may be the Dark Lord, but even *I* have morals!**
- I guess that explains why you haven't killed me yet.
> **I'll only kill you if you're a good person, from which I can see, isn't the case**
- Shall I continue the game? I'll replay the Dark Lord battle, to show you what I meant earlier.
> **Oh, alright. I'm taking you to Hell afterwards, though. It does get a bit lonely there, and your nonsense intrigues me. You said you had no friends, so it doesn't matter, does it?**
- Guess not, being the prince of Hell would be quite fun
> **Whoa, I never said you're becoming the Prince! You've gotta earn that!**
- Don't worry. Here it is
*Final boss battle begins*
> **Wha-? That doesn't look anything *like* me! Do these people even know what I look like!? I don't have ugly goat legs like that!**
____________
That was my first go, and I'm not too sure how I feel about that. I hope you like it! | Oh demon, you are so red. Come cheer me up with your redness. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Luna took out the homemade Ouija board she had been crafting for the past week. *Not the most conventional method of making friends...* she thought. She didn't have much choice, though. Her parents had divorced, her dad moving up into the reclusive mountains. This is where she was to spend her summer.
She was only sixteen, but had researched countless hours on the internet about Ouija boards, black magic, demons, etc. she was finally ready to begin.
Setting up the candles in the attic, she placed the makeshift board down and put the planchette above the G as the online guides suggest. After a few seconds of nothing, she moves it in a round motion. Finally, it starts to move.
*H-E-L-L-O*
"Hello. My name is Luna. What is yours?" She spoke excitedly, shocked it was working.
*Y-O-U-S-H-O-U-L-D-N-T-B-E-D-O-I-N-G-T-H-I-S-A-L-O-N-E-L-U-N-A*
"Why not?" She asked the board.
*Y-O-U-D-O-N-T-K-N-O-W-W-H-O-C-O-U-L-D-B-E-O-N-T-H-E-O-T-H-E-R-S-I-D-E*
Luna looked at the printouts she had brought with her. *Users may not get more than yes or no answers; this depends on the strength of the spirit. If the spirit seems very strong, it's best to move the planchette to GOODBYE as they could be dangerous.*
She started to move the planchette, but a force that took her by surprise refused to allow her to do it.
*W-A-I-T*
She hesitated... "W-what do you want?"
*T-O-T-A-L-K-T-O-Y-O-U*
She took her fingers off the board and sat there thinking, weighing the pros and cons of the situation, when the board shook. The planchette moved by itself, first in a figure eight pattern, and then it counted down from 9-0.
Everything was silent as Luna grabbed the papers, trying to find...*here it is*... She realized her mistake.
*Hello Luna.* A deep voice hisses.
"Who a-are you?" She shudders at the sudden cold in the attic. It must have dropped twenty degrees.
*Hush, child. I don't wish to frighten you. Like I said, I just want to talk.*
Luna looked around but could see nothing, "What do you want to talk about?"
A chuckle. *You. Me. Us.*
"..us?"
*Sweet Luna. I have been observing you. What do you think has been pulling you towards the occult? Who do you think had your parents name you Luna, the name of the Moon and representative of the night? I have been with you since your birth, and at the ripe age of sixteen, it is your chance to come join me.*
"W-what do you mean? I'm not going anywhere with you!" She growled, still looking around the room. *How old even is this demon creep,* she thought.
*I am only 19 in the body, Luna, and I would appreciate if you would stop with the name calling.* Suddenly the booming voice sounded tired and impatient.
"I'm sorry," she said, unsure why. "What do you want from me? Why me?"
*You're beautiful, and your pure spirit brings me joy. I would love to corrupt it.* Unbeknownst to her, Lucifer was walking around her, running his long fingers through her hair disguised as a whoosh of cold wind, feeding off the fear. She stayed silent. *All of the years of hardship you've endured, dear girl. You should never had had to go through that. Your uncle touching you... Your mom taking his side... Your dad leaving without his little princess. Why were you born into such a... Hell?*
"Don't talk about my uncle! I hate him! I hate him! And my mother too! What kind of mother would do that?!" She yelled to the nothingness. Then, quietly, "What kind of mother would do that?" She collapsed to the ground.
Lucifer held her in his lap, running his fingers through the soft black hair on her head and whispering in her ear, *You can get revenge on them all. We can, together. What do you have left in this world?*
She sat there, starting to feel the big arms around her, as silent and still as stone.
*You have an alcoholic mother-- a father who can't even look at you. You have nothing left here. Join me.*
"I can't," she spoke quietly.
*You can,* the voice spoke softly, placing something in her hand.
She looked down to see a box cutter.
*We can be together forever. I won't ever leave you like they all did.*
She sat for five minutes contemplating... She stood up finally, her limbs heavy. "This.." She spoke in a hushed tone, then screamed as loud as she could, "**This is for what you did to me!**" She cut the inside of her arm vertically, just like she had tried to do once before. Before, she stopped because of the pain. But this time, it was replaced with happiness. Lucifer was helping her. She cut herself all over, again and again and again and again, again, again, again, again, again, again, againagainagainagainagainagainagai- Until she couldn't lift her hand.
*You're ready to come home, Luna. Close your eyes. I've got you.* Lucifer carried her through the portal and into her eternal home.
Edit: wording & spelling
| Oh demon, you are so red. Come cheer me up with your redness. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The man felt a shiver run down his spine as he walked down the road, forcing him to stop midstep. He turned around to see a being in the darkness. In the dim light he could only make out the silhouette, but if the hair was anything to go by then it was female. He glanced at it fearfully, looking around for any onlookers, something about the situation making him hope that someone was there.
But no one was.
"Hi, uh... is there... anything I can help you with?"
The form shuffled slowly towards him, and he wanted to run away, but his feet felt heavy and bound. He couldn't bring himself to move, and his heart beat began to accelerate as his fear grew.
Sharp teeth peaked out into the light, like a shark's mouth, but there was no wide grin. Instead, it seemed not at all intimidating. "Why did you summon me from my plane?"
"Wh-what? I didn't-"
It lunged closer, and this time the man took several hasty steps backwards, almost falling to the ground, but managing to catch himself with his hand before he did. And then, instead of beating a hasty retreat, he stayed. More out of curiosity then some binding fear.
"Do not lie to me, Mortal." The voice shuffled like heavy curtains. "The demands of your heart pulled me from the realm of nightmares. Tell me why you have summoned me."
"I-" He looked at the monster, his fears giving way to the despair that he harbored in his soul. "I lost my pet bird the other day."
"That's all?" Anger grew in the voice. "You feel so horrible because you lost a bird?!"
"No, it's... My family doesn't talk to me any more, my wife divorced me, My job is nothing but a time sink with no chance for upward promotion. I just... I can't even take care of a bird. I'm so... stupid. I just want it to end."
The form slithered forward through the darkness. It looked at him with unreadable orbs of red, and lifted a claw away from it's body. The claw moved until it rested on his chest above his heart. "I see. Broken-hearted."
"Yea. Broken-hearted."
"Would you enjoy it if I stayed? I am in no hurry to return home."
"Heh, I don't think I have anything we could do."
"Do you have John Wayne?"
"Like, his movies?"
"Yes, I haven't seen one in a long time."
"Yea." The man smiled, looking into the red orbs that seemed so comforting at that moment. "Yea, I do." | Oh demon, you are so red. Come cheer me up with your redness. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Marcus tightened his grip on the steering wheel and felt the rubber flex under his palms. A bead of sweat found its way down its nose and he spat the salty foam over the windshield. "Oh, come on!" he screamed, stomping at the interior of the car. He watched the traffic lights like a hawk and as soon as they changed, the car accelerated forward in a mist of burnt rubber.
He punched the number into his phone again and it rang. "Pick it up, please God pick it up" he said through clenched teeth. But still the phone rang. He couldn't believe what was happening. He had kept up this charade for so long that any traces of guilt, shame or paranoia had almost vanished from his mind.
How could he have forgotten the maid was coming today? He had always been so careful, so precise with his secret. And it was quite the secret. It had driven him to the edge of sanity and back again. He had lost his job, his wife became more estranged than she was already, and both of his friends stopped returning his calls.
It had been a bad night. He felt lonely. And drunk. Someone, or something, had slipped that little scroll with the pentagram into his pocket. He always found himself much more vulnerable to the excesses of melodrama and fantasy when he was hammered, but even he would never had let himself believe anything so unnatural. He was a man of evidence and reason. How irrelevant those words seemed now. His world wasn't one of theory and science anymore, but one of eternal prophecy, divine authority and evil, ancient fury.
He wished that he had never turned the scroll over to see a note scribbled incongruously in biro. "6th June. 6am. Sunrise and blood." He laughed and turned over the scroll again to look in more detail at the pentagram on the front but found nothing on it. He turned it over again and again in his hands but could find no trace of the marks. His head swam with confusion and gin. He was a man of evidence and reason.
The 6th of June at 6am. A meadow under a new sky. A knife and a rat from the pet store. The sun rises and he drags the knife under the rat's throat, wipes the blade with the scroll and it burns, crumbles into ash. A ring of fire, horns, teeth, black eyes.
He had just been lonely.
"Hello, this is Julie if you'd like to lea-"
He hung the phone up. It didn't matter. He would be there in a moment. Just around that corner, second street on the right. The car screeched up the driveway and he leapt out the car, fumbled with his keys to get the door open and burst through the front door. He stood, frozen.
"A friend."
A familiar rumbling, hissing voice, that spat and popped like a fire, echoed from the basement. Marcus closed his eyes and wished he was somewhere else. Wished, and not for the last time, that he had never summoned the demon.
"A friend."
It repeated.
Marcus made his way down the basement, slowing his descent in terror of what would greet him. From between the beams of the staircase, he made out the figure of Julie. She was sat, her hands in her lap, quite calm and serene, with a fair-away look in her eyes. She turned her head to him and smiled a wide grin, its falseness betrayed by her dead eyes. Her mouth suddenly dropped open and hung there a moment. She spoke:
“I think we shall be great friends”
The demon was turned away from Marcus, but upon her statement, he began to turn his great, dark body round to face him. He extended his giant arm towards Julie, as if presenting his master a great gift.
It had happened again. He had asked for a friend, and it had delivered them.
One after the other.
Minds broken, just automatons, vessels for putrid, false sentiment. What could Marcus do but tell the demon to undo what he had done? Whether they went down, from where the demon had been born he knew not.
The monster smiled a little wider, in anticipation of what was to come. Marcus nodded his head in the slightest way possible and closed his eyes.
He had only wanted a friend. | Oh demon, you are so red. Come cheer me up with your redness. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The basement is dark, the only light is provided by the candles that are placed precisely at each point on the circle. Jacob finishes the incantation and stares at the center of the circle watching as a demon slowly rises through the floor. First, he sees the horns. Two on either side of the demon's head, slightly curled at the ends. Next is the demon's head. His eyes are closed and a single fang protrudes from his mouth. With each breath smoke is exhaled from him, filling the basement with the aroma of what reminded Jacob of a volcano.
Jacob sits down in a chair and puts his feet up on the chessboard, careful not to knock any of the pieces over. He leans in the chair and lets out a bored sigh.
"This is taking forever." He says to himself.
At last the demon stops. His eyelids shoot open revealing his red irises. They are not just red, they flicker and change to an orange and yellow periodically like they were fire themselves.
"I AM DRAKUS! LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD! WHAT DOES A MERE HUMAN LIKE YOU WANT WITH ME!" His voices booms, hot spit flying everywhere with each syllable spoken.
Jacob absentmindedly wipes the spit from his face and looks at Drakus, " I moved here a couple months ago and no one seems interested in being my friend."
Drakus lets out what seems to be a laugh, but it sounds more like a low rumble. Kind of what you hear before a strong earthquake hits. "And what do you think you would have accomplished by summoning me, human?"
"I dunno." Jacob shrugs and motions towards the chessboard. "I was hoping you would play a game of chess with me."
"Let me get this straight." Drakus scratches his head. "You summon the most powerful demon in the world and you want to play... chess?"
"Or checkers. I'm fine with both." Says Jacob.
"Wouldn't you rather start a war?" Drakus suggests.
"Nah." Jacob scratches the inside of his ear, seeming uninterested.
"How about we spread a plague?"
"Seems boring."
"Start the apocalypse?"
"Sounds messy."
"Possession?"
"Too much work."
Drakus sighs and takes his seat across from Jacob. Jacob shifts and sits up and makes the first move.
"I'm beginning to see why you have no friends." Says Drakus, moving his first pawn forward.
| Oh demon, you are so red. Come cheer me up with your redness. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "Well son of a bitch, it finally worked" Leo muttered under his breath as the carefully drawn runes on the floor began to glow in shifting shades of iridescent blue and red. His marked pessimism had only grown stronger with age, and as the void wretched itself open, and two grisly claws began to emerge from the nether, he thought to himself this will be a fitting end to his career as a summoner. His greatest achievement, would go unrecorded and unremembered.
It was not always so for Leo. There was a time in his life, where this summoning would have been celebrated as a grand display of his prowess. Leo's family was killed by the invading hordes from the East when he was young. At 12, he started practicing black magic as a student under a Dark Magician in the Imperial Army, who had taken to adopting orphaned youngsters who showed proficiency. His goal was to groom these children to serve as battle mages.
Leo instantly showed an affinity for summoning. His abilities quickly surpassed those of his peers. Soon he was enlisted as a battle mage, and sent out with a regiment of soldiers. With all the confidence in this world and the next, Leo charged into battle time and time again with these men. However, several mistakes were made. These were not the fault of Leo directly. Battle is unpredictable to say the least. The creatures Leo summoned were either inappropriate for the situation at hand, or were not powerful enough to route the enemy forces.
Word of these failures spread, and the command of the Imperial Army was not one to give second, let alone third, chances. Soon Leo's days as a battle mage were over. For the rest of his career, he was relegated to menial duties such as enchanting cursed arrows for the archers. Typical black magic apprentice work. Leo always wondered though, what life would been like had he been a successful summoner. He wondered about it until this very day, which he was suddenly snapped back to.
The demon, now fully materialized from the void, spoke to Leo. The demon obviously didn't make any real sound, but Leo could hear the voice audibly in his head. It could only be described as a young boy's voice and an old man's voice speaking simultaneously.
"Why have you brought me here?" The demon whispered into the back of his mind. Leo froze, then responded. "Honestly?"
The demon roared in Leo's mind "I will destroy you in a moment if you lie." The demon began to move. It's movements belied the ferocious tone it had just taken with it's summoner. It slowly rose from it's knees in front of the rift to the void, and stood up to reveal it's bipedal humanoid form. It appeared as only the darkest shadow, no other details could be seen.
Leo, for the first time in this whole ordeal, began to feel a tinge of fear. He responded carefully. "I summoned you, for no other reason, than to see if I could." He slowly looked down at this spell book, averting his eyes from the demon.
"You old fool!" the demon hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"I am aware" Leo responded, without lifting his gaze.
"Then you know I am endless torment! I am the plague and the purge. My many names are written in blood across the battlefields of this plane. You will sacrifice greatly for bringing me here wizard! You will now know the *true* meaning of loss and sorrow!"
"I only have my life" Leo responded, almost interrupting the demon from waxing poetic. "When I attempted the summoning, I knew my life would most likely be forfeit. I have accepted that. I do not desire to love longer as it is."
In the blink of an eye, The demon closed the 15 meter gap between it and Leo. It now had it's hand around Leo's throat, and it's "face" was inches from Leo's own. The demon snarled, as it searched Leo's soul and saw what he had said was true.
"Your miserable life means nothing to me" the demon said. "I will harvest all you hold dear. I will reap your family, your closest friends, and hang them in my storehouse. There they will suffer for eternity, as a profane reminder as to the consequences of a mortal beckoning me forth."
"Friends, Family?" Leo said somberly. "They are all gone. Have been for quite some time. I am alone in this world. I have nothing, I have no one. I summoned you demon, simply to remember what it's like to speak to another being. There was a famine last year, and everyone headed south to find food. I remained behind, as I had no one to travel with. I think I may be the last man in the north. If I am not, I have yet to see another one. Anyway, this spring, my crops failed. Soon I will be out of food. I am too old and my health is too poor to try and complete the journey south now. No, I am well aware of my fate. I brought you here, just to speak to someone If only for one last time."
The demon was absolutely motionless. It stared into Leo's eyes for what seemed like hours but was only a few moments. It searched his soul completely, and found everything he said to be true.
In a flash, the demon drew a sword from it's back. The smell of burning flesh and sulfur instantly filled the room. It slashed at Leo at an almost inperceivable speed. The blade avoided killing him by millimeters. Instead, it left a gash on his left cheek, which instantly cauterized and closed. The slash also opened a new rift back into the void.
"No mortal, you will suffer greatly" The demon spoke directly into Leo's mind. "Congratulations wizard, you are the only human who has ever been in my presence and lived." And with that, the demon stepped back into the void, and vanished.
Leo's old heart was close to failure it had been beating so hard. Slowly, he regained his breath, and sat down. What had he just done? He had just completed summoning the most powerful being he had ever summoned in his entire life. Possibly the greatest summoning in the history of the discipline! He could hardly believe what had just happened.
Perhaps he was worth something after all! Leo's mind began to work in a way it had not in many years. Maybe he was important! If his spirit was powerful enough to save him from the lord of the void, maybe he would stand a chance leaving this God forsaken farm and heading south. South to people. South to civilization.
Leo immediately grabbed his cloak and his staff. He would summon a lightning horse and be off to the south. No use sitting here any longer, only death awaited him. But when he unbarred the door to his cabin, it would not budge. Frantically he heaved with his whole body weight, but the door would not open. Leo began screaming and clawing at the timber panel, but nonetheless, it would not give way.
Finally, he tried casting a fire spell on the door, hoping to kick away the cinders and escape before the entire cabin burned. But as he finished the incantation, instead the mark on his cheek simply began to glow. The spell itself never materializing. The harder he tried to cast his magic, the greater the glow from his wound. He had been silenced. And he remained in that cabin, alone, for the rest of time.
| Oh demon, you are so red. Come cheer me up with your redness. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The basement is dark, the only light is provided by the candles that are placed precisely at each point on the circle. Jacob finishes the incantation and stares at the center of the circle watching as a demon slowly rises through the floor. First, he sees the horns. Two on either side of the demon's head, slightly curled at the ends. Next is the demon's head. His eyes are closed and a single fang protrudes from his mouth. With each breath smoke is exhaled from him, filling the basement with the aroma of what reminded Jacob of a volcano.
Jacob sits down in a chair and puts his feet up on the chessboard, careful not to knock any of the pieces over. He leans in the chair and lets out a bored sigh.
"This is taking forever." He says to himself.
At last the demon stops. His eyelids shoot open revealing his red irises. They are not just red, they flicker and change to an orange and yellow periodically like they were fire themselves.
"I AM DRAKUS! LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD! WHAT DOES A MERE HUMAN LIKE YOU WANT WITH ME!" His voices booms, hot spit flying everywhere with each syllable spoken.
Jacob absentmindedly wipes the spit from his face and looks at Drakus, " I moved here a couple months ago and no one seems interested in being my friend."
Drakus lets out what seems to be a laugh, but it sounds more like a low rumble. Kind of what you hear before a strong earthquake hits. "And what do you think you would have accomplished by summoning me, human?"
"I dunno." Jacob shrugs and motions towards the chessboard. "I was hoping you would play a game of chess with me."
"Let me get this straight." Drakus scratches his head. "You summon the most powerful demon in the world and you want to play... chess?"
"Or checkers. I'm fine with both." Says Jacob.
"Wouldn't you rather start a war?" Drakus suggests.
"Nah." Jacob scratches the inside of his ear, seeming uninterested.
"How about we spread a plague?"
"Seems boring."
"Start the apocalypse?"
"Sounds messy."
"Possession?"
"Too much work."
Drakus sighs and takes his seat across from Jacob. Jacob shifts and sits up and makes the first move.
"I'm beginning to see why you have no friends." Says Drakus, moving his first pawn forward.
| The scent of incense and blood hang heavy in the air, copper and sandalwood somehow complementing one another. My low and urgent chanting quickens as I feel a rising tension in the air. The candle flames shift from yellow to blue, and then into dancing pits of blackness.
With anxious precision, I smear the last symbol in blood around the circle, feeling the sting in my thumb as I drag it across the linoleum in the dining nook in the kitchen.
"Alhazred, Alhazred, Alhazred, thrice I call, thrice I summon thee, thrice I bind thee!"
I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I'm slightly disappointed by the soft "paff" sound as the ritual completes. A crack of thunder, a wave of eerie silence, the shrill cry of a thousand starving crows, any would have been appropriate, but "paff"?
"I ANSWER YOUR CALL, MORTAL, LOOK UPON ALHAZRED AND... Ow, fuck!" This last, as he rises face first into the chandelier that would (ordinarily) be over the dining room table. "LOOK UPON ALHAZRED AND TREMBLE!" It would be much more impressive if he wasn't hunched over, nearly crouching under my apartment's low ceiling. Enormous black horns, leathery red wings, a wickedly barbed tail, crimson skin with a patchwork of onyx scales over rippling muscles, he's pretty much the Platonic ideal of a badass demon, but crammed into the tiny circle under the low ceiling... He looks more uncomfortable than a fat man in an airplane seat.
From above, an insistent pounding sound lets me know my neighbors have heard.
"Could you keep it down a bit, the walls in this place are paper thin."
"AS YOU... *ahem* as you wish."
"Thank you."
"You have summoned me, by the ancient contract of the Book of Blood, what would you ask of me, mortal?"
"Uh.. Um, how's it going? Sorry about the chandelier, by the way, I wasn't expecting you to be quite so tall."
"You summon me across time and space, tearing asunder the fabric of reality to ask how I am?"
"Um, well, no, I'm just... you know.. trying to make conversation? What's it like, being the arch-general of the Demon King's armies?"
Alhazred cocks his head, narrowing his golden eyes at me. "Why would you seek conversation with me? I stand, bound by the ancient pact to grant you your heart's desire, you must simply ask it and it shall be granted. I care not for mortal affairs except as they relate to the Eternal Conflict."
"You are bound until you grant my wish, correct?"
"Yes, so it is written in the Book of Blood," he sighs.
"Um.. well, before I claim my reward, I'd like to... you know.. chat. A bit. You seem like a really interesting guy. I mean, demon. You know."
He sighs again, an explosive exhalation reeking of brimstone and rotting flesh. I struggle mightily against the urge to vomit, but manage to hold myself back with the thought of accidentally breaking the circle. That would be a ridiculous way to go.
"Very well," he says, "what do you want to know?"
"Um, you mentioned the 'Eternal Conflict', right? How's that going?"
"Eternally."
It's my turn to sigh. "Not giving me much to work with here, Alhazred."
"If you wanted conversation, you should have summoned Kazzak or Orcus. I will flay the flesh from the bones of your foes like none other, or grant you the might to rule mortalkind with an iron fist."
I'm briefly taken aback by this. "I'm not much of a conversationalist either, to be honest. I always seem to say exactly the wrong thing, screw things up somehow." I shrug. "Sort of like I'm doing right now. Do you have any idea what that's like?"
Alhazred's scaly eyebrows rise, his golden eyes widening. He inclines his head, and one of his horns scrapes a rain of crap off the popcorn ceiling. "Actually," he says, his voice softening somewhat, "I do." He hesitates, and his eyes narrow again. "I recommend breaking the backs of all who oppose you, that they will fear you too much to judge."
"Um, I'm not exactly built along 'back-breaking' lines. And it's sort of, um... socially awkward? To go around breaking people's backs."
"Hm," he says, "your people seem to have complicated things unnecessarily in the last thousand years."
"I think a lot of people would agree with you. The internet's pretty cool, though."
"Internet?"
"It's... umm... When were you last around?"
"Elvis Presley wished for fame and fortune."
"Elvis, really? No shit?" I ask, surprised.
"Yup."
"Huh, that explains some things. Um, so... It's sort of like... televisions that you can choose exactly what you want to see, and people can share things they want to share? It's not a great explanation, but... It's complicated."
"Why is this 'internet' so great?" he asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.
"Um, it's hard to explain. Lots of funny pictures, people write clever things, all the porn you can stand, you can watch movies, people post videos of themselves doing stupid or hilarious shit... It's a real grab bag. Hold on a sec." I hop up and grab my laptop from the living room.
I sit down, opening the laptop.
"Let me show you this site, Reddit..." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "Well son of a bitch, it finally worked" Leo muttered under his breath as the carefully drawn runes on the floor began to glow in shifting shades of iridescent blue and red. His marked pessimism had only grown stronger with age, and as the void wretched itself open, and two grisly claws began to emerge from the nether, he thought to himself this will be a fitting end to his career as a summoner. His greatest achievement, would go unrecorded and unremembered.
It was not always so for Leo. There was a time in his life, where this summoning would have been celebrated as a grand display of his prowess. Leo's family was killed by the invading hordes from the East when he was young. At 12, he started practicing black magic as a student under a Dark Magician in the Imperial Army, who had taken to adopting orphaned youngsters who showed proficiency. His goal was to groom these children to serve as battle mages.
Leo instantly showed an affinity for summoning. His abilities quickly surpassed those of his peers. Soon he was enlisted as a battle mage, and sent out with a regiment of soldiers. With all the confidence in this world and the next, Leo charged into battle time and time again with these men. However, several mistakes were made. These were not the fault of Leo directly. Battle is unpredictable to say the least. The creatures Leo summoned were either inappropriate for the situation at hand, or were not powerful enough to route the enemy forces.
Word of these failures spread, and the command of the Imperial Army was not one to give second, let alone third, chances. Soon Leo's days as a battle mage were over. For the rest of his career, he was relegated to menial duties such as enchanting cursed arrows for the archers. Typical black magic apprentice work. Leo always wondered though, what life would been like had he been a successful summoner. He wondered about it until this very day, which he was suddenly snapped back to.
The demon, now fully materialized from the void, spoke to Leo. The demon obviously didn't make any real sound, but Leo could hear the voice audibly in his head. It could only be described as a young boy's voice and an old man's voice speaking simultaneously.
"Why have you brought me here?" The demon whispered into the back of his mind. Leo froze, then responded. "Honestly?"
The demon roared in Leo's mind "I will destroy you in a moment if you lie." The demon began to move. It's movements belied the ferocious tone it had just taken with it's summoner. It slowly rose from it's knees in front of the rift to the void, and stood up to reveal it's bipedal humanoid form. It appeared as only the darkest shadow, no other details could be seen.
Leo, for the first time in this whole ordeal, began to feel a tinge of fear. He responded carefully. "I summoned you, for no other reason, than to see if I could." He slowly looked down at this spell book, averting his eyes from the demon.
"You old fool!" the demon hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"I am aware" Leo responded, without lifting his gaze.
"Then you know I am endless torment! I am the plague and the purge. My many names are written in blood across the battlefields of this plane. You will sacrifice greatly for bringing me here wizard! You will now know the *true* meaning of loss and sorrow!"
"I only have my life" Leo responded, almost interrupting the demon from waxing poetic. "When I attempted the summoning, I knew my life would most likely be forfeit. I have accepted that. I do not desire to love longer as it is."
In the blink of an eye, The demon closed the 15 meter gap between it and Leo. It now had it's hand around Leo's throat, and it's "face" was inches from Leo's own. The demon snarled, as it searched Leo's soul and saw what he had said was true.
"Your miserable life means nothing to me" the demon said. "I will harvest all you hold dear. I will reap your family, your closest friends, and hang them in my storehouse. There they will suffer for eternity, as a profane reminder as to the consequences of a mortal beckoning me forth."
"Friends, Family?" Leo said somberly. "They are all gone. Have been for quite some time. I am alone in this world. I have nothing, I have no one. I summoned you demon, simply to remember what it's like to speak to another being. There was a famine last year, and everyone headed south to find food. I remained behind, as I had no one to travel with. I think I may be the last man in the north. If I am not, I have yet to see another one. Anyway, this spring, my crops failed. Soon I will be out of food. I am too old and my health is too poor to try and complete the journey south now. No, I am well aware of my fate. I brought you here, just to speak to someone If only for one last time."
The demon was absolutely motionless. It stared into Leo's eyes for what seemed like hours but was only a few moments. It searched his soul completely, and found everything he said to be true.
In a flash, the demon drew a sword from it's back. The smell of burning flesh and sulfur instantly filled the room. It slashed at Leo at an almost inperceivable speed. The blade avoided killing him by millimeters. Instead, it left a gash on his left cheek, which instantly cauterized and closed. The slash also opened a new rift back into the void.
"No mortal, you will suffer greatly" The demon spoke directly into Leo's mind. "Congratulations wizard, you are the only human who has ever been in my presence and lived." And with that, the demon stepped back into the void, and vanished.
Leo's old heart was close to failure it had been beating so hard. Slowly, he regained his breath, and sat down. What had he just done? He had just completed summoning the most powerful being he had ever summoned in his entire life. Possibly the greatest summoning in the history of the discipline! He could hardly believe what had just happened.
Perhaps he was worth something after all! Leo's mind began to work in a way it had not in many years. Maybe he was important! If his spirit was powerful enough to save him from the lord of the void, maybe he would stand a chance leaving this God forsaken farm and heading south. South to people. South to civilization.
Leo immediately grabbed his cloak and his staff. He would summon a lightning horse and be off to the south. No use sitting here any longer, only death awaited him. But when he unbarred the door to his cabin, it would not budge. Frantically he heaved with his whole body weight, but the door would not open. Leo began screaming and clawing at the timber panel, but nonetheless, it would not give way.
Finally, he tried casting a fire spell on the door, hoping to kick away the cinders and escape before the entire cabin burned. But as he finished the incantation, instead the mark on his cheek simply began to glow. The spell itself never materializing. The harder he tried to cast his magic, the greater the glow from his wound. He had been silenced. And he remained in that cabin, alone, for the rest of time.
| The scent of incense and blood hang heavy in the air, copper and sandalwood somehow complementing one another. My low and urgent chanting quickens as I feel a rising tension in the air. The candle flames shift from yellow to blue, and then into dancing pits of blackness.
With anxious precision, I smear the last symbol in blood around the circle, feeling the sting in my thumb as I drag it across the linoleum in the dining nook in the kitchen.
"Alhazred, Alhazred, Alhazred, thrice I call, thrice I summon thee, thrice I bind thee!"
I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I'm slightly disappointed by the soft "paff" sound as the ritual completes. A crack of thunder, a wave of eerie silence, the shrill cry of a thousand starving crows, any would have been appropriate, but "paff"?
"I ANSWER YOUR CALL, MORTAL, LOOK UPON ALHAZRED AND... Ow, fuck!" This last, as he rises face first into the chandelier that would (ordinarily) be over the dining room table. "LOOK UPON ALHAZRED AND TREMBLE!" It would be much more impressive if he wasn't hunched over, nearly crouching under my apartment's low ceiling. Enormous black horns, leathery red wings, a wickedly barbed tail, crimson skin with a patchwork of onyx scales over rippling muscles, he's pretty much the Platonic ideal of a badass demon, but crammed into the tiny circle under the low ceiling... He looks more uncomfortable than a fat man in an airplane seat.
From above, an insistent pounding sound lets me know my neighbors have heard.
"Could you keep it down a bit, the walls in this place are paper thin."
"AS YOU... *ahem* as you wish."
"Thank you."
"You have summoned me, by the ancient contract of the Book of Blood, what would you ask of me, mortal?"
"Uh.. Um, how's it going? Sorry about the chandelier, by the way, I wasn't expecting you to be quite so tall."
"You summon me across time and space, tearing asunder the fabric of reality to ask how I am?"
"Um, well, no, I'm just... you know.. trying to make conversation? What's it like, being the arch-general of the Demon King's armies?"
Alhazred cocks his head, narrowing his golden eyes at me. "Why would you seek conversation with me? I stand, bound by the ancient pact to grant you your heart's desire, you must simply ask it and it shall be granted. I care not for mortal affairs except as they relate to the Eternal Conflict."
"You are bound until you grant my wish, correct?"
"Yes, so it is written in the Book of Blood," he sighs.
"Um.. well, before I claim my reward, I'd like to... you know.. chat. A bit. You seem like a really interesting guy. I mean, demon. You know."
He sighs again, an explosive exhalation reeking of brimstone and rotting flesh. I struggle mightily against the urge to vomit, but manage to hold myself back with the thought of accidentally breaking the circle. That would be a ridiculous way to go.
"Very well," he says, "what do you want to know?"
"Um, you mentioned the 'Eternal Conflict', right? How's that going?"
"Eternally."
It's my turn to sigh. "Not giving me much to work with here, Alhazred."
"If you wanted conversation, you should have summoned Kazzak or Orcus. I will flay the flesh from the bones of your foes like none other, or grant you the might to rule mortalkind with an iron fist."
I'm briefly taken aback by this. "I'm not much of a conversationalist either, to be honest. I always seem to say exactly the wrong thing, screw things up somehow." I shrug. "Sort of like I'm doing right now. Do you have any idea what that's like?"
Alhazred's scaly eyebrows rise, his golden eyes widening. He inclines his head, and one of his horns scrapes a rain of crap off the popcorn ceiling. "Actually," he says, his voice softening somewhat, "I do." He hesitates, and his eyes narrow again. "I recommend breaking the backs of all who oppose you, that they will fear you too much to judge."
"Um, I'm not exactly built along 'back-breaking' lines. And it's sort of, um... socially awkward? To go around breaking people's backs."
"Hm," he says, "your people seem to have complicated things unnecessarily in the last thousand years."
"I think a lot of people would agree with you. The internet's pretty cool, though."
"Internet?"
"It's... umm... When were you last around?"
"Elvis Presley wished for fame and fortune."
"Elvis, really? No shit?" I ask, surprised.
"Yup."
"Huh, that explains some things. Um, so... It's sort of like... televisions that you can choose exactly what you want to see, and people can share things they want to share? It's not a great explanation, but... It's complicated."
"Why is this 'internet' so great?" he asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.
"Um, it's hard to explain. Lots of funny pictures, people write clever things, all the porn you can stand, you can watch movies, people post videos of themselves doing stupid or hilarious shit... It's a real grab bag. Hold on a sec." I hop up and grab my laptop from the living room.
I sit down, opening the laptop.
"Let me show you this site, Reddit..." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Luna took out the homemade Ouija board she had been crafting for the past week. *Not the most conventional method of making friends...* she thought. She didn't have much choice, though. Her parents had divorced, her dad moving up into the reclusive mountains. This is where she was to spend her summer.
She was only sixteen, but had researched countless hours on the internet about Ouija boards, black magic, demons, etc. she was finally ready to begin.
Setting up the candles in the attic, she placed the makeshift board down and put the planchette above the G as the online guides suggest. After a few seconds of nothing, she moves it in a round motion. Finally, it starts to move.
*H-E-L-L-O*
"Hello. My name is Luna. What is yours?" She spoke excitedly, shocked it was working.
*Y-O-U-S-H-O-U-L-D-N-T-B-E-D-O-I-N-G-T-H-I-S-A-L-O-N-E-L-U-N-A*
"Why not?" She asked the board.
*Y-O-U-D-O-N-T-K-N-O-W-W-H-O-C-O-U-L-D-B-E-O-N-T-H-E-O-T-H-E-R-S-I-D-E*
Luna looked at the printouts she had brought with her. *Users may not get more than yes or no answers; this depends on the strength of the spirit. If the spirit seems very strong, it's best to move the planchette to GOODBYE as they could be dangerous.*
She started to move the planchette, but a force that took her by surprise refused to allow her to do it.
*W-A-I-T*
She hesitated... "W-what do you want?"
*T-O-T-A-L-K-T-O-Y-O-U*
She took her fingers off the board and sat there thinking, weighing the pros and cons of the situation, when the board shook. The planchette moved by itself, first in a figure eight pattern, and then it counted down from 9-0.
Everything was silent as Luna grabbed the papers, trying to find...*here it is*... She realized her mistake.
*Hello Luna.* A deep voice hisses.
"Who a-are you?" She shudders at the sudden cold in the attic. It must have dropped twenty degrees.
*Hush, child. I don't wish to frighten you. Like I said, I just want to talk.*
Luna looked around but could see nothing, "What do you want to talk about?"
A chuckle. *You. Me. Us.*
"..us?"
*Sweet Luna. I have been observing you. What do you think has been pulling you towards the occult? Who do you think had your parents name you Luna, the name of the Moon and representative of the night? I have been with you since your birth, and at the ripe age of sixteen, it is your chance to come join me.*
"W-what do you mean? I'm not going anywhere with you!" She growled, still looking around the room. *How old even is this demon creep,* she thought.
*I am only 19 in the body, Luna, and I would appreciate if you would stop with the name calling.* Suddenly the booming voice sounded tired and impatient.
"I'm sorry," she said, unsure why. "What do you want from me? Why me?"
*You're beautiful, and your pure spirit brings me joy. I would love to corrupt it.* Unbeknownst to her, Lucifer was walking around her, running his long fingers through her hair disguised as a whoosh of cold wind, feeding off the fear. She stayed silent. *All of the years of hardship you've endured, dear girl. You should never had had to go through that. Your uncle touching you... Your mom taking his side... Your dad leaving without his little princess. Why were you born into such a... Hell?*
"Don't talk about my uncle! I hate him! I hate him! And my mother too! What kind of mother would do that?!" She yelled to the nothingness. Then, quietly, "What kind of mother would do that?" She collapsed to the ground.
Lucifer held her in his lap, running his fingers through the soft black hair on her head and whispering in her ear, *You can get revenge on them all. We can, together. What do you have left in this world?*
She sat there, starting to feel the big arms around her, as silent and still as stone.
*You have an alcoholic mother-- a father who can't even look at you. You have nothing left here. Join me.*
"I can't," she spoke quietly.
*You can,* the voice spoke softly, placing something in her hand.
She looked down to see a box cutter.
*We can be together forever. I won't ever leave you like they all did.*
She sat for five minutes contemplating... She stood up finally, her limbs heavy. "This.." She spoke in a hushed tone, then screamed as loud as she could, "**This is for what you did to me!**" She cut the inside of her arm vertically, just like she had tried to do once before. Before, she stopped because of the pain. But this time, it was replaced with happiness. Lucifer was helping her. She cut herself all over, again and again and again and again, again, again, again, again, again, again, againagainagainagainagainagainagai- Until she couldn't lift her hand.
*You're ready to come home, Luna. Close your eyes. I've got you.* Lucifer carried her through the portal and into her eternal home.
Edit: wording & spelling
| Cecilia stood in the dingy basement, staring at her handiwork. She ran through her check-list one last time. *"Nine-point star inscribed in a chalk circle, check. Iron filings along the circumference, check. Water in half of a hollowed gourd on the mantle, check. Chalk star sprinkled with powdered yew bark, check. Beeswax candles at the cardinal points, check." Yes, it was all good. She was ready to summon Parferhaaufus, the most powerful demonic entity, a spirit of fire.
Cecilia hopped, skipped, and jumped to the centre of the star. She pulled fished out a silver dagger, cut her left palm open, turned around thrice clockwise, and then drew the Antivan Sigil of Thirteen on the floor. With a hop, a skip and a jump back, she was back to her starting position, within a simple chalk circle.
She chanted his name thrice, fished a piece of brimstone out of her pocket and landed it in the centre of the sigil, just like she'd practiced. One final step now, only one. A cold wind gusted in from the window chilling her to the bone. Wearing nothing but a thin white robe on a cold night was a bitch!
She drew in a deep breath, focussed and visualized a white hot flame burning the brimstone. She kept her eyes screwed shut, and concentrated. She waited for what seemed like an eternity, bathed in the light of the full moon, robes fluttering around her ankles. And then...there was fire. She opened her eyes to the distinct smell of burning sulphur, and smiled.
Clouds of smoke billowed forth, somehow unaffected by the wind, never leaving the summoning circle. Cecilia peered into it anxiously for a moment, wondering if the ritual had failed...A full minute passed, and Cecilia nearly left her own circle to check on the sulphur...Suddenly, there was a red glow within the fog, and it began to swirl and gather into a humanoid form.
Cecilia stared for a moment at the bald pate, the yellow snake like eyes, the razor sharp teeth, and the goatee. Clearly this demon favoured the *classic* appearance. She took in his appearance, and somehow, despite the almost comforting familiarity of his form found him intimidating. His presence seemed to fill the room, and wrap around her. If she had to guess, it was the red flickering light that suffused his smoky form that really unnerved her.
"I need a friend," blurted out Cecilia, almost impatiently. She blushed. “Sorry. Not the best start to making friends, huh?”
Parferhauufus snorted loudly, flexed his muscular arms, and took a swing at the air in front of him. Electricity sparked faintly around the summoning circle. There was no sound, no other visual cue, but with just that, his arm was stopped cold, as if it had hit a wall. He made a sound of grudging respect and turned his eyes to the girl. He looked her up and down, making her shiver.
Cecilia started sweating, and wringing her robe in her hands. “Willyoubemyfriend?” She choked out.
Demonic eyes missed nothing. From her slim, athletic frame, the spark in the green eyes hidden behind thick glasses, the warm fire of her soul, beautiful lips marred by charcoal lipstick, the dull auburn hair...No, indeed, nothing was missed. Indeed, Hauufus (He *hated* being called Parfy, so Hauufus it was) was quite impressed that this slip of a human being had summoned him.
“State thine wish clearly. It does not become thee to mumble, and I *do not* suffer fools gladly,” said the demon. He didn’t believe for a moment that any human would want to befriend a demon. No, it had to be an elaborate ploy.
A tear ran down her cheek, sparkling silver in the moonlight. She choked out a sob. “Nobody likes me. They all hate me! I get so nervous around people that I CAN’T TALK!”
Hauufus maintained an impatient, expectant gaze at the girl. He had been quite sure that all knowledge of summoning him was lost when that fool of a summoner let him loose in the Library of Alexandria. Pity, really, but It didn't bother him that much. Dealing with most summoners was easy. Young women were the easiest, the heart of a young man, beauty, riches, vengeance, wishes that were easy to grant, and motives that were easier still to manipulate. What more could a demon want?
“Wish, summoner. Let us not play games now.” His voice was sharp. Too impatient you say? Well, you aren’t the one who had to bear *five full minutes* of sniffling and palming away of tears when you had much better things to do!
Cecilia glared back at him, “Can’t you see I’m having a moment here? Weren’t you moved by the tragic beauty of my tears sparkling in the moonlight? Don’t you want to comfort me? WELL, DON’T YOU?”
The demon was taken aback by this development. Certainly, he thought, this woman was no different from all the ones he had met. One such as her, he was sure, would want her beloved to reciprocate her feelings, or wish for beauty. There was only one time that anyone had asked him for knowledge. He missed Archimedes after a fashion; he was a rather unique specimen of humanity. “I grow tired of your ploy human,” he sighed, “tell me your wish, and let us be done with this farce.”
“I told you. I. Need. A. Friend,” she tossed her hair back. “Is that simple enough for you to grasp or does the greatest demon in existence have the intelligence of a house-fly?”
Cecilia waited, demon and girl engaged in an odd staring contest. The flashing anger that would have normally cowed her failed to have any effect whatsoever today. Parfurhauufus, like most demons had plenty of pride. He was not some lackey to be summoned on a whim to do a human’s bidding. They were not his lords. It irked him to his very soul to be bound. A summoner would normally exploit this very predictability to win the age old dance, the power-struggle between summoned and summoner.
There was no way out of it. Hauufus mentally sighed. He would have to play along. “I grant thine wish. A friend to thee, I shall be!” He prepared to swirl into a twister and promptly depart. Indeed, he formed a nice fiery tornado. A demon was only as good as his special effects after all, and the job had not gotten any easier since ILM started up. Suddenly, streaks of blue flew up from the circle, and he could not leave.
“What now, human? I’m your friend. There! See? Wish granted, why don’t you lower your arm and let me go?”
Cecilia did not lower her arm. “You haven’t helped me feel better yet, and we haven’t gone shopping together or had a nice cup of cocoa together…Where do you think you’re going buster? You have some major friend-ing to do!”
Parfurhauufus, demon of the seventh degree, master of flame, patron of the arsonist, and the most powerful black being in existence balked. *”Shit! It’s time to get out of here. Scare tactics it is.”* The beeswax candles turned black, and green towering flames rose from them. A thin layer of ice frosted over the floor. The window shut with a bang and misted over. Crude writings and death threats in blood floated all around Cecilia, whirling around and around. There was a ear-shattering screaming that seemed to pierce the bone and chill the marrow. Everything shook violently. Dead rats rained down, splattering messily on the floor.
Cecilia simply raised her arm and snapped. There was a spark, a warm blaze of flame, a cleansing heat that swept from her all around the room, and all that was wrong was undone, and Hauufus reeled back as if struck. “You’re bound by contract demon. For your attempted violation, I confine thee.”
The smoke parted, the brimstone finally stopped burning, and a red light zoomed from into a water filled gourd. Cecilia picked it up, and turned it upside down. Not a drop spilt. Hauufus’ angry roars and balls of fire did nothing. Smiling, Cecilia walked away, crooning about how she and Mr. Parfy-pants were going to have a tea party.
That dear friends was the ignominious end of the great and terrible Paarfurhauufus.
**Notes**
1. First draft. Nit-picking over spelling/grammar welcome. Information about incorrect punctuation rewarded with a cookie when accompanied by an explanation.
2. This story didn't come out quite as well as I expected. I didn't have too much direction starting out. If you're reading this, I'd love to hear whether the story felt somewhat unfocussed or not.
3. Descriptions were rather long. Any input on whether this was a plus or minus would be great.
4. Was the tone of the story consistent? Input on this is rewarded with a box of imaginary cookies.
5. Any and all critique is welcome.
**EDIT:** Formatting. Small improvement to a sentence. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The man felt a shiver run down his spine as he walked down the road, forcing him to stop midstep. He turned around to see a being in the darkness. In the dim light he could only make out the silhouette, but if the hair was anything to go by then it was female. He glanced at it fearfully, looking around for any onlookers, something about the situation making him hope that someone was there.
But no one was.
"Hi, uh... is there... anything I can help you with?"
The form shuffled slowly towards him, and he wanted to run away, but his feet felt heavy and bound. He couldn't bring himself to move, and his heart beat began to accelerate as his fear grew.
Sharp teeth peaked out into the light, like a shark's mouth, but there was no wide grin. Instead, it seemed not at all intimidating. "Why did you summon me from my plane?"
"Wh-what? I didn't-"
It lunged closer, and this time the man took several hasty steps backwards, almost falling to the ground, but managing to catch himself with his hand before he did. And then, instead of beating a hasty retreat, he stayed. More out of curiosity then some binding fear.
"Do not lie to me, Mortal." The voice shuffled like heavy curtains. "The demands of your heart pulled me from the realm of nightmares. Tell me why you have summoned me."
"I-" He looked at the monster, his fears giving way to the despair that he harbored in his soul. "I lost my pet bird the other day."
"That's all?" Anger grew in the voice. "You feel so horrible because you lost a bird?!"
"No, it's... My family doesn't talk to me any more, my wife divorced me, My job is nothing but a time sink with no chance for upward promotion. I just... I can't even take care of a bird. I'm so... stupid. I just want it to end."
The form slithered forward through the darkness. It looked at him with unreadable orbs of red, and lifted a claw away from it's body. The claw moved until it rested on his chest above his heart. "I see. Broken-hearted."
"Yea. Broken-hearted."
"Would you enjoy it if I stayed? I am in no hurry to return home."
"Heh, I don't think I have anything we could do."
"Do you have John Wayne?"
"Like, his movies?"
"Yes, I haven't seen one in a long time."
"Yea." The man smiled, looking into the red orbs that seemed so comforting at that moment. "Yea, I do." | Cecilia stood in the dingy basement, staring at her handiwork. She ran through her check-list one last time. *"Nine-point star inscribed in a chalk circle, check. Iron filings along the circumference, check. Water in half of a hollowed gourd on the mantle, check. Chalk star sprinkled with powdered yew bark, check. Beeswax candles at the cardinal points, check." Yes, it was all good. She was ready to summon Parferhaaufus, the most powerful demonic entity, a spirit of fire.
Cecilia hopped, skipped, and jumped to the centre of the star. She pulled fished out a silver dagger, cut her left palm open, turned around thrice clockwise, and then drew the Antivan Sigil of Thirteen on the floor. With a hop, a skip and a jump back, she was back to her starting position, within a simple chalk circle.
She chanted his name thrice, fished a piece of brimstone out of her pocket and landed it in the centre of the sigil, just like she'd practiced. One final step now, only one. A cold wind gusted in from the window chilling her to the bone. Wearing nothing but a thin white robe on a cold night was a bitch!
She drew in a deep breath, focussed and visualized a white hot flame burning the brimstone. She kept her eyes screwed shut, and concentrated. She waited for what seemed like an eternity, bathed in the light of the full moon, robes fluttering around her ankles. And then...there was fire. She opened her eyes to the distinct smell of burning sulphur, and smiled.
Clouds of smoke billowed forth, somehow unaffected by the wind, never leaving the summoning circle. Cecilia peered into it anxiously for a moment, wondering if the ritual had failed...A full minute passed, and Cecilia nearly left her own circle to check on the sulphur...Suddenly, there was a red glow within the fog, and it began to swirl and gather into a humanoid form.
Cecilia stared for a moment at the bald pate, the yellow snake like eyes, the razor sharp teeth, and the goatee. Clearly this demon favoured the *classic* appearance. She took in his appearance, and somehow, despite the almost comforting familiarity of his form found him intimidating. His presence seemed to fill the room, and wrap around her. If she had to guess, it was the red flickering light that suffused his smoky form that really unnerved her.
"I need a friend," blurted out Cecilia, almost impatiently. She blushed. “Sorry. Not the best start to making friends, huh?”
Parferhauufus snorted loudly, flexed his muscular arms, and took a swing at the air in front of him. Electricity sparked faintly around the summoning circle. There was no sound, no other visual cue, but with just that, his arm was stopped cold, as if it had hit a wall. He made a sound of grudging respect and turned his eyes to the girl. He looked her up and down, making her shiver.
Cecilia started sweating, and wringing her robe in her hands. “Willyoubemyfriend?” She choked out.
Demonic eyes missed nothing. From her slim, athletic frame, the spark in the green eyes hidden behind thick glasses, the warm fire of her soul, beautiful lips marred by charcoal lipstick, the dull auburn hair...No, indeed, nothing was missed. Indeed, Hauufus (He *hated* being called Parfy, so Hauufus it was) was quite impressed that this slip of a human being had summoned him.
“State thine wish clearly. It does not become thee to mumble, and I *do not* suffer fools gladly,” said the demon. He didn’t believe for a moment that any human would want to befriend a demon. No, it had to be an elaborate ploy.
A tear ran down her cheek, sparkling silver in the moonlight. She choked out a sob. “Nobody likes me. They all hate me! I get so nervous around people that I CAN’T TALK!”
Hauufus maintained an impatient, expectant gaze at the girl. He had been quite sure that all knowledge of summoning him was lost when that fool of a summoner let him loose in the Library of Alexandria. Pity, really, but It didn't bother him that much. Dealing with most summoners was easy. Young women were the easiest, the heart of a young man, beauty, riches, vengeance, wishes that were easy to grant, and motives that were easier still to manipulate. What more could a demon want?
“Wish, summoner. Let us not play games now.” His voice was sharp. Too impatient you say? Well, you aren’t the one who had to bear *five full minutes* of sniffling and palming away of tears when you had much better things to do!
Cecilia glared back at him, “Can’t you see I’m having a moment here? Weren’t you moved by the tragic beauty of my tears sparkling in the moonlight? Don’t you want to comfort me? WELL, DON’T YOU?”
The demon was taken aback by this development. Certainly, he thought, this woman was no different from all the ones he had met. One such as her, he was sure, would want her beloved to reciprocate her feelings, or wish for beauty. There was only one time that anyone had asked him for knowledge. He missed Archimedes after a fashion; he was a rather unique specimen of humanity. “I grow tired of your ploy human,” he sighed, “tell me your wish, and let us be done with this farce.”
“I told you. I. Need. A. Friend,” she tossed her hair back. “Is that simple enough for you to grasp or does the greatest demon in existence have the intelligence of a house-fly?”
Cecilia waited, demon and girl engaged in an odd staring contest. The flashing anger that would have normally cowed her failed to have any effect whatsoever today. Parfurhauufus, like most demons had plenty of pride. He was not some lackey to be summoned on a whim to do a human’s bidding. They were not his lords. It irked him to his very soul to be bound. A summoner would normally exploit this very predictability to win the age old dance, the power-struggle between summoned and summoner.
There was no way out of it. Hauufus mentally sighed. He would have to play along. “I grant thine wish. A friend to thee, I shall be!” He prepared to swirl into a twister and promptly depart. Indeed, he formed a nice fiery tornado. A demon was only as good as his special effects after all, and the job had not gotten any easier since ILM started up. Suddenly, streaks of blue flew up from the circle, and he could not leave.
“What now, human? I’m your friend. There! See? Wish granted, why don’t you lower your arm and let me go?”
Cecilia did not lower her arm. “You haven’t helped me feel better yet, and we haven’t gone shopping together or had a nice cup of cocoa together…Where do you think you’re going buster? You have some major friend-ing to do!”
Parfurhauufus, demon of the seventh degree, master of flame, patron of the arsonist, and the most powerful black being in existence balked. *”Shit! It’s time to get out of here. Scare tactics it is.”* The beeswax candles turned black, and green towering flames rose from them. A thin layer of ice frosted over the floor. The window shut with a bang and misted over. Crude writings and death threats in blood floated all around Cecilia, whirling around and around. There was a ear-shattering screaming that seemed to pierce the bone and chill the marrow. Everything shook violently. Dead rats rained down, splattering messily on the floor.
Cecilia simply raised her arm and snapped. There was a spark, a warm blaze of flame, a cleansing heat that swept from her all around the room, and all that was wrong was undone, and Hauufus reeled back as if struck. “You’re bound by contract demon. For your attempted violation, I confine thee.”
The smoke parted, the brimstone finally stopped burning, and a red light zoomed from into a water filled gourd. Cecilia picked it up, and turned it upside down. Not a drop spilt. Hauufus’ angry roars and balls of fire did nothing. Smiling, Cecilia walked away, crooning about how she and Mr. Parfy-pants were going to have a tea party.
That dear friends was the ignominious end of the great and terrible Paarfurhauufus.
**Notes**
1. First draft. Nit-picking over spelling/grammar welcome. Information about incorrect punctuation rewarded with a cookie when accompanied by an explanation.
2. This story didn't come out quite as well as I expected. I didn't have too much direction starting out. If you're reading this, I'd love to hear whether the story felt somewhat unfocussed or not.
3. Descriptions were rather long. Any input on whether this was a plus or minus would be great.
4. Was the tone of the story consistent? Input on this is rewarded with a box of imaginary cookies.
5. Any and all critique is welcome.
**EDIT:** Formatting. Small improvement to a sentence. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Marcus tightened his grip on the steering wheel and felt the rubber flex under his palms. A bead of sweat found its way down its nose and he spat the salty foam over the windshield. "Oh, come on!" he screamed, stomping at the interior of the car. He watched the traffic lights like a hawk and as soon as they changed, the car accelerated forward in a mist of burnt rubber.
He punched the number into his phone again and it rang. "Pick it up, please God pick it up" he said through clenched teeth. But still the phone rang. He couldn't believe what was happening. He had kept up this charade for so long that any traces of guilt, shame or paranoia had almost vanished from his mind.
How could he have forgotten the maid was coming today? He had always been so careful, so precise with his secret. And it was quite the secret. It had driven him to the edge of sanity and back again. He had lost his job, his wife became more estranged than she was already, and both of his friends stopped returning his calls.
It had been a bad night. He felt lonely. And drunk. Someone, or something, had slipped that little scroll with the pentagram into his pocket. He always found himself much more vulnerable to the excesses of melodrama and fantasy when he was hammered, but even he would never had let himself believe anything so unnatural. He was a man of evidence and reason. How irrelevant those words seemed now. His world wasn't one of theory and science anymore, but one of eternal prophecy, divine authority and evil, ancient fury.
He wished that he had never turned the scroll over to see a note scribbled incongruously in biro. "6th June. 6am. Sunrise and blood." He laughed and turned over the scroll again to look in more detail at the pentagram on the front but found nothing on it. He turned it over again and again in his hands but could find no trace of the marks. His head swam with confusion and gin. He was a man of evidence and reason.
The 6th of June at 6am. A meadow under a new sky. A knife and a rat from the pet store. The sun rises and he drags the knife under the rat's throat, wipes the blade with the scroll and it burns, crumbles into ash. A ring of fire, horns, teeth, black eyes.
He had just been lonely.
"Hello, this is Julie if you'd like to lea-"
He hung the phone up. It didn't matter. He would be there in a moment. Just around that corner, second street on the right. The car screeched up the driveway and he leapt out the car, fumbled with his keys to get the door open and burst through the front door. He stood, frozen.
"A friend."
A familiar rumbling, hissing voice, that spat and popped like a fire, echoed from the basement. Marcus closed his eyes and wished he was somewhere else. Wished, and not for the last time, that he had never summoned the demon.
"A friend."
It repeated.
Marcus made his way down the basement, slowing his descent in terror of what would greet him. From between the beams of the staircase, he made out the figure of Julie. She was sat, her hands in her lap, quite calm and serene, with a fair-away look in her eyes. She turned her head to him and smiled a wide grin, its falseness betrayed by her dead eyes. Her mouth suddenly dropped open and hung there a moment. She spoke:
“I think we shall be great friends”
The demon was turned away from Marcus, but upon her statement, he began to turn his great, dark body round to face him. He extended his giant arm towards Julie, as if presenting his master a great gift.
It had happened again. He had asked for a friend, and it had delivered them.
One after the other.
Minds broken, just automatons, vessels for putrid, false sentiment. What could Marcus do but tell the demon to undo what he had done? Whether they went down, from where the demon had been born he knew not.
The monster smiled a little wider, in anticipation of what was to come. Marcus nodded his head in the slightest way possible and closed his eyes.
He had only wanted a friend. | Cecilia stood in the dingy basement, staring at her handiwork. She ran through her check-list one last time. *"Nine-point star inscribed in a chalk circle, check. Iron filings along the circumference, check. Water in half of a hollowed gourd on the mantle, check. Chalk star sprinkled with powdered yew bark, check. Beeswax candles at the cardinal points, check." Yes, it was all good. She was ready to summon Parferhaaufus, the most powerful demonic entity, a spirit of fire.
Cecilia hopped, skipped, and jumped to the centre of the star. She pulled fished out a silver dagger, cut her left palm open, turned around thrice clockwise, and then drew the Antivan Sigil of Thirteen on the floor. With a hop, a skip and a jump back, she was back to her starting position, within a simple chalk circle.
She chanted his name thrice, fished a piece of brimstone out of her pocket and landed it in the centre of the sigil, just like she'd practiced. One final step now, only one. A cold wind gusted in from the window chilling her to the bone. Wearing nothing but a thin white robe on a cold night was a bitch!
She drew in a deep breath, focussed and visualized a white hot flame burning the brimstone. She kept her eyes screwed shut, and concentrated. She waited for what seemed like an eternity, bathed in the light of the full moon, robes fluttering around her ankles. And then...there was fire. She opened her eyes to the distinct smell of burning sulphur, and smiled.
Clouds of smoke billowed forth, somehow unaffected by the wind, never leaving the summoning circle. Cecilia peered into it anxiously for a moment, wondering if the ritual had failed...A full minute passed, and Cecilia nearly left her own circle to check on the sulphur...Suddenly, there was a red glow within the fog, and it began to swirl and gather into a humanoid form.
Cecilia stared for a moment at the bald pate, the yellow snake like eyes, the razor sharp teeth, and the goatee. Clearly this demon favoured the *classic* appearance. She took in his appearance, and somehow, despite the almost comforting familiarity of his form found him intimidating. His presence seemed to fill the room, and wrap around her. If she had to guess, it was the red flickering light that suffused his smoky form that really unnerved her.
"I need a friend," blurted out Cecilia, almost impatiently. She blushed. “Sorry. Not the best start to making friends, huh?”
Parferhauufus snorted loudly, flexed his muscular arms, and took a swing at the air in front of him. Electricity sparked faintly around the summoning circle. There was no sound, no other visual cue, but with just that, his arm was stopped cold, as if it had hit a wall. He made a sound of grudging respect and turned his eyes to the girl. He looked her up and down, making her shiver.
Cecilia started sweating, and wringing her robe in her hands. “Willyoubemyfriend?” She choked out.
Demonic eyes missed nothing. From her slim, athletic frame, the spark in the green eyes hidden behind thick glasses, the warm fire of her soul, beautiful lips marred by charcoal lipstick, the dull auburn hair...No, indeed, nothing was missed. Indeed, Hauufus (He *hated* being called Parfy, so Hauufus it was) was quite impressed that this slip of a human being had summoned him.
“State thine wish clearly. It does not become thee to mumble, and I *do not* suffer fools gladly,” said the demon. He didn’t believe for a moment that any human would want to befriend a demon. No, it had to be an elaborate ploy.
A tear ran down her cheek, sparkling silver in the moonlight. She choked out a sob. “Nobody likes me. They all hate me! I get so nervous around people that I CAN’T TALK!”
Hauufus maintained an impatient, expectant gaze at the girl. He had been quite sure that all knowledge of summoning him was lost when that fool of a summoner let him loose in the Library of Alexandria. Pity, really, but It didn't bother him that much. Dealing with most summoners was easy. Young women were the easiest, the heart of a young man, beauty, riches, vengeance, wishes that were easy to grant, and motives that were easier still to manipulate. What more could a demon want?
“Wish, summoner. Let us not play games now.” His voice was sharp. Too impatient you say? Well, you aren’t the one who had to bear *five full minutes* of sniffling and palming away of tears when you had much better things to do!
Cecilia glared back at him, “Can’t you see I’m having a moment here? Weren’t you moved by the tragic beauty of my tears sparkling in the moonlight? Don’t you want to comfort me? WELL, DON’T YOU?”
The demon was taken aback by this development. Certainly, he thought, this woman was no different from all the ones he had met. One such as her, he was sure, would want her beloved to reciprocate her feelings, or wish for beauty. There was only one time that anyone had asked him for knowledge. He missed Archimedes after a fashion; he was a rather unique specimen of humanity. “I grow tired of your ploy human,” he sighed, “tell me your wish, and let us be done with this farce.”
“I told you. I. Need. A. Friend,” she tossed her hair back. “Is that simple enough for you to grasp or does the greatest demon in existence have the intelligence of a house-fly?”
Cecilia waited, demon and girl engaged in an odd staring contest. The flashing anger that would have normally cowed her failed to have any effect whatsoever today. Parfurhauufus, like most demons had plenty of pride. He was not some lackey to be summoned on a whim to do a human’s bidding. They were not his lords. It irked him to his very soul to be bound. A summoner would normally exploit this very predictability to win the age old dance, the power-struggle between summoned and summoner.
There was no way out of it. Hauufus mentally sighed. He would have to play along. “I grant thine wish. A friend to thee, I shall be!” He prepared to swirl into a twister and promptly depart. Indeed, he formed a nice fiery tornado. A demon was only as good as his special effects after all, and the job had not gotten any easier since ILM started up. Suddenly, streaks of blue flew up from the circle, and he could not leave.
“What now, human? I’m your friend. There! See? Wish granted, why don’t you lower your arm and let me go?”
Cecilia did not lower her arm. “You haven’t helped me feel better yet, and we haven’t gone shopping together or had a nice cup of cocoa together…Where do you think you’re going buster? You have some major friend-ing to do!”
Parfurhauufus, demon of the seventh degree, master of flame, patron of the arsonist, and the most powerful black being in existence balked. *”Shit! It’s time to get out of here. Scare tactics it is.”* The beeswax candles turned black, and green towering flames rose from them. A thin layer of ice frosted over the floor. The window shut with a bang and misted over. Crude writings and death threats in blood floated all around Cecilia, whirling around and around. There was a ear-shattering screaming that seemed to pierce the bone and chill the marrow. Everything shook violently. Dead rats rained down, splattering messily on the floor.
Cecilia simply raised her arm and snapped. There was a spark, a warm blaze of flame, a cleansing heat that swept from her all around the room, and all that was wrong was undone, and Hauufus reeled back as if struck. “You’re bound by contract demon. For your attempted violation, I confine thee.”
The smoke parted, the brimstone finally stopped burning, and a red light zoomed from into a water filled gourd. Cecilia picked it up, and turned it upside down. Not a drop spilt. Hauufus’ angry roars and balls of fire did nothing. Smiling, Cecilia walked away, crooning about how she and Mr. Parfy-pants were going to have a tea party.
That dear friends was the ignominious end of the great and terrible Paarfurhauufus.
**Notes**
1. First draft. Nit-picking over spelling/grammar welcome. Information about incorrect punctuation rewarded with a cookie when accompanied by an explanation.
2. This story didn't come out quite as well as I expected. I didn't have too much direction starting out. If you're reading this, I'd love to hear whether the story felt somewhat unfocussed or not.
3. Descriptions were rather long. Any input on whether this was a plus or minus would be great.
4. Was the tone of the story consistent? Input on this is rewarded with a box of imaginary cookies.
5. Any and all critique is welcome.
**EDIT:** Formatting. Small improvement to a sentence. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The basement is dark, the only light is provided by the candles that are placed precisely at each point on the circle. Jacob finishes the incantation and stares at the center of the circle watching as a demon slowly rises through the floor. First, he sees the horns. Two on either side of the demon's head, slightly curled at the ends. Next is the demon's head. His eyes are closed and a single fang protrudes from his mouth. With each breath smoke is exhaled from him, filling the basement with the aroma of what reminded Jacob of a volcano.
Jacob sits down in a chair and puts his feet up on the chessboard, careful not to knock any of the pieces over. He leans in the chair and lets out a bored sigh.
"This is taking forever." He says to himself.
At last the demon stops. His eyelids shoot open revealing his red irises. They are not just red, they flicker and change to an orange and yellow periodically like they were fire themselves.
"I AM DRAKUS! LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD! WHAT DOES A MERE HUMAN LIKE YOU WANT WITH ME!" His voices booms, hot spit flying everywhere with each syllable spoken.
Jacob absentmindedly wipes the spit from his face and looks at Drakus, " I moved here a couple months ago and no one seems interested in being my friend."
Drakus lets out what seems to be a laugh, but it sounds more like a low rumble. Kind of what you hear before a strong earthquake hits. "And what do you think you would have accomplished by summoning me, human?"
"I dunno." Jacob shrugs and motions towards the chessboard. "I was hoping you would play a game of chess with me."
"Let me get this straight." Drakus scratches his head. "You summon the most powerful demon in the world and you want to play... chess?"
"Or checkers. I'm fine with both." Says Jacob.
"Wouldn't you rather start a war?" Drakus suggests.
"Nah." Jacob scratches the inside of his ear, seeming uninterested.
"How about we spread a plague?"
"Seems boring."
"Start the apocalypse?"
"Sounds messy."
"Possession?"
"Too much work."
Drakus sighs and takes his seat across from Jacob. Jacob shifts and sits up and makes the first move.
"I'm beginning to see why you have no friends." Says Drakus, moving his first pawn forward.
| Cecilia stood in the dingy basement, staring at her handiwork. She ran through her check-list one last time. *"Nine-point star inscribed in a chalk circle, check. Iron filings along the circumference, check. Water in half of a hollowed gourd on the mantle, check. Chalk star sprinkled with powdered yew bark, check. Beeswax candles at the cardinal points, check." Yes, it was all good. She was ready to summon Parferhaaufus, the most powerful demonic entity, a spirit of fire.
Cecilia hopped, skipped, and jumped to the centre of the star. She pulled fished out a silver dagger, cut her left palm open, turned around thrice clockwise, and then drew the Antivan Sigil of Thirteen on the floor. With a hop, a skip and a jump back, she was back to her starting position, within a simple chalk circle.
She chanted his name thrice, fished a piece of brimstone out of her pocket and landed it in the centre of the sigil, just like she'd practiced. One final step now, only one. A cold wind gusted in from the window chilling her to the bone. Wearing nothing but a thin white robe on a cold night was a bitch!
She drew in a deep breath, focussed and visualized a white hot flame burning the brimstone. She kept her eyes screwed shut, and concentrated. She waited for what seemed like an eternity, bathed in the light of the full moon, robes fluttering around her ankles. And then...there was fire. She opened her eyes to the distinct smell of burning sulphur, and smiled.
Clouds of smoke billowed forth, somehow unaffected by the wind, never leaving the summoning circle. Cecilia peered into it anxiously for a moment, wondering if the ritual had failed...A full minute passed, and Cecilia nearly left her own circle to check on the sulphur...Suddenly, there was a red glow within the fog, and it began to swirl and gather into a humanoid form.
Cecilia stared for a moment at the bald pate, the yellow snake like eyes, the razor sharp teeth, and the goatee. Clearly this demon favoured the *classic* appearance. She took in his appearance, and somehow, despite the almost comforting familiarity of his form found him intimidating. His presence seemed to fill the room, and wrap around her. If she had to guess, it was the red flickering light that suffused his smoky form that really unnerved her.
"I need a friend," blurted out Cecilia, almost impatiently. She blushed. “Sorry. Not the best start to making friends, huh?”
Parferhauufus snorted loudly, flexed his muscular arms, and took a swing at the air in front of him. Electricity sparked faintly around the summoning circle. There was no sound, no other visual cue, but with just that, his arm was stopped cold, as if it had hit a wall. He made a sound of grudging respect and turned his eyes to the girl. He looked her up and down, making her shiver.
Cecilia started sweating, and wringing her robe in her hands. “Willyoubemyfriend?” She choked out.
Demonic eyes missed nothing. From her slim, athletic frame, the spark in the green eyes hidden behind thick glasses, the warm fire of her soul, beautiful lips marred by charcoal lipstick, the dull auburn hair...No, indeed, nothing was missed. Indeed, Hauufus (He *hated* being called Parfy, so Hauufus it was) was quite impressed that this slip of a human being had summoned him.
“State thine wish clearly. It does not become thee to mumble, and I *do not* suffer fools gladly,” said the demon. He didn’t believe for a moment that any human would want to befriend a demon. No, it had to be an elaborate ploy.
A tear ran down her cheek, sparkling silver in the moonlight. She choked out a sob. “Nobody likes me. They all hate me! I get so nervous around people that I CAN’T TALK!”
Hauufus maintained an impatient, expectant gaze at the girl. He had been quite sure that all knowledge of summoning him was lost when that fool of a summoner let him loose in the Library of Alexandria. Pity, really, but It didn't bother him that much. Dealing with most summoners was easy. Young women were the easiest, the heart of a young man, beauty, riches, vengeance, wishes that were easy to grant, and motives that were easier still to manipulate. What more could a demon want?
“Wish, summoner. Let us not play games now.” His voice was sharp. Too impatient you say? Well, you aren’t the one who had to bear *five full minutes* of sniffling and palming away of tears when you had much better things to do!
Cecilia glared back at him, “Can’t you see I’m having a moment here? Weren’t you moved by the tragic beauty of my tears sparkling in the moonlight? Don’t you want to comfort me? WELL, DON’T YOU?”
The demon was taken aback by this development. Certainly, he thought, this woman was no different from all the ones he had met. One such as her, he was sure, would want her beloved to reciprocate her feelings, or wish for beauty. There was only one time that anyone had asked him for knowledge. He missed Archimedes after a fashion; he was a rather unique specimen of humanity. “I grow tired of your ploy human,” he sighed, “tell me your wish, and let us be done with this farce.”
“I told you. I. Need. A. Friend,” she tossed her hair back. “Is that simple enough for you to grasp or does the greatest demon in existence have the intelligence of a house-fly?”
Cecilia waited, demon and girl engaged in an odd staring contest. The flashing anger that would have normally cowed her failed to have any effect whatsoever today. Parfurhauufus, like most demons had plenty of pride. He was not some lackey to be summoned on a whim to do a human’s bidding. They were not his lords. It irked him to his very soul to be bound. A summoner would normally exploit this very predictability to win the age old dance, the power-struggle between summoned and summoner.
There was no way out of it. Hauufus mentally sighed. He would have to play along. “I grant thine wish. A friend to thee, I shall be!” He prepared to swirl into a twister and promptly depart. Indeed, he formed a nice fiery tornado. A demon was only as good as his special effects after all, and the job had not gotten any easier since ILM started up. Suddenly, streaks of blue flew up from the circle, and he could not leave.
“What now, human? I’m your friend. There! See? Wish granted, why don’t you lower your arm and let me go?”
Cecilia did not lower her arm. “You haven’t helped me feel better yet, and we haven’t gone shopping together or had a nice cup of cocoa together…Where do you think you’re going buster? You have some major friend-ing to do!”
Parfurhauufus, demon of the seventh degree, master of flame, patron of the arsonist, and the most powerful black being in existence balked. *”Shit! It’s time to get out of here. Scare tactics it is.”* The beeswax candles turned black, and green towering flames rose from them. A thin layer of ice frosted over the floor. The window shut with a bang and misted over. Crude writings and death threats in blood floated all around Cecilia, whirling around and around. There was a ear-shattering screaming that seemed to pierce the bone and chill the marrow. Everything shook violently. Dead rats rained down, splattering messily on the floor.
Cecilia simply raised her arm and snapped. There was a spark, a warm blaze of flame, a cleansing heat that swept from her all around the room, and all that was wrong was undone, and Hauufus reeled back as if struck. “You’re bound by contract demon. For your attempted violation, I confine thee.”
The smoke parted, the brimstone finally stopped burning, and a red light zoomed from into a water filled gourd. Cecilia picked it up, and turned it upside down. Not a drop spilt. Hauufus’ angry roars and balls of fire did nothing. Smiling, Cecilia walked away, crooning about how she and Mr. Parfy-pants were going to have a tea party.
That dear friends was the ignominious end of the great and terrible Paarfurhauufus.
**Notes**
1. First draft. Nit-picking over spelling/grammar welcome. Information about incorrect punctuation rewarded with a cookie when accompanied by an explanation.
2. This story didn't come out quite as well as I expected. I didn't have too much direction starting out. If you're reading this, I'd love to hear whether the story felt somewhat unfocussed or not.
3. Descriptions were rather long. Any input on whether this was a plus or minus would be great.
4. Was the tone of the story consistent? Input on this is rewarded with a box of imaginary cookies.
5. Any and all critique is welcome.
**EDIT:** Formatting. Small improvement to a sentence. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "Well son of a bitch, it finally worked" Leo muttered under his breath as the carefully drawn runes on the floor began to glow in shifting shades of iridescent blue and red. His marked pessimism had only grown stronger with age, and as the void wretched itself open, and two grisly claws began to emerge from the nether, he thought to himself this will be a fitting end to his career as a summoner. His greatest achievement, would go unrecorded and unremembered.
It was not always so for Leo. There was a time in his life, where this summoning would have been celebrated as a grand display of his prowess. Leo's family was killed by the invading hordes from the East when he was young. At 12, he started practicing black magic as a student under a Dark Magician in the Imperial Army, who had taken to adopting orphaned youngsters who showed proficiency. His goal was to groom these children to serve as battle mages.
Leo instantly showed an affinity for summoning. His abilities quickly surpassed those of his peers. Soon he was enlisted as a battle mage, and sent out with a regiment of soldiers. With all the confidence in this world and the next, Leo charged into battle time and time again with these men. However, several mistakes were made. These were not the fault of Leo directly. Battle is unpredictable to say the least. The creatures Leo summoned were either inappropriate for the situation at hand, or were not powerful enough to route the enemy forces.
Word of these failures spread, and the command of the Imperial Army was not one to give second, let alone third, chances. Soon Leo's days as a battle mage were over. For the rest of his career, he was relegated to menial duties such as enchanting cursed arrows for the archers. Typical black magic apprentice work. Leo always wondered though, what life would been like had he been a successful summoner. He wondered about it until this very day, which he was suddenly snapped back to.
The demon, now fully materialized from the void, spoke to Leo. The demon obviously didn't make any real sound, but Leo could hear the voice audibly in his head. It could only be described as a young boy's voice and an old man's voice speaking simultaneously.
"Why have you brought me here?" The demon whispered into the back of his mind. Leo froze, then responded. "Honestly?"
The demon roared in Leo's mind "I will destroy you in a moment if you lie." The demon began to move. It's movements belied the ferocious tone it had just taken with it's summoner. It slowly rose from it's knees in front of the rift to the void, and stood up to reveal it's bipedal humanoid form. It appeared as only the darkest shadow, no other details could be seen.
Leo, for the first time in this whole ordeal, began to feel a tinge of fear. He responded carefully. "I summoned you, for no other reason, than to see if I could." He slowly looked down at this spell book, averting his eyes from the demon.
"You old fool!" the demon hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"I am aware" Leo responded, without lifting his gaze.
"Then you know I am endless torment! I am the plague and the purge. My many names are written in blood across the battlefields of this plane. You will sacrifice greatly for bringing me here wizard! You will now know the *true* meaning of loss and sorrow!"
"I only have my life" Leo responded, almost interrupting the demon from waxing poetic. "When I attempted the summoning, I knew my life would most likely be forfeit. I have accepted that. I do not desire to love longer as it is."
In the blink of an eye, The demon closed the 15 meter gap between it and Leo. It now had it's hand around Leo's throat, and it's "face" was inches from Leo's own. The demon snarled, as it searched Leo's soul and saw what he had said was true.
"Your miserable life means nothing to me" the demon said. "I will harvest all you hold dear. I will reap your family, your closest friends, and hang them in my storehouse. There they will suffer for eternity, as a profane reminder as to the consequences of a mortal beckoning me forth."
"Friends, Family?" Leo said somberly. "They are all gone. Have been for quite some time. I am alone in this world. I have nothing, I have no one. I summoned you demon, simply to remember what it's like to speak to another being. There was a famine last year, and everyone headed south to find food. I remained behind, as I had no one to travel with. I think I may be the last man in the north. If I am not, I have yet to see another one. Anyway, this spring, my crops failed. Soon I will be out of food. I am too old and my health is too poor to try and complete the journey south now. No, I am well aware of my fate. I brought you here, just to speak to someone If only for one last time."
The demon was absolutely motionless. It stared into Leo's eyes for what seemed like hours but was only a few moments. It searched his soul completely, and found everything he said to be true.
In a flash, the demon drew a sword from it's back. The smell of burning flesh and sulfur instantly filled the room. It slashed at Leo at an almost inperceivable speed. The blade avoided killing him by millimeters. Instead, it left a gash on his left cheek, which instantly cauterized and closed. The slash also opened a new rift back into the void.
"No mortal, you will suffer greatly" The demon spoke directly into Leo's mind. "Congratulations wizard, you are the only human who has ever been in my presence and lived." And with that, the demon stepped back into the void, and vanished.
Leo's old heart was close to failure it had been beating so hard. Slowly, he regained his breath, and sat down. What had he just done? He had just completed summoning the most powerful being he had ever summoned in his entire life. Possibly the greatest summoning in the history of the discipline! He could hardly believe what had just happened.
Perhaps he was worth something after all! Leo's mind began to work in a way it had not in many years. Maybe he was important! If his spirit was powerful enough to save him from the lord of the void, maybe he would stand a chance leaving this God forsaken farm and heading south. South to people. South to civilization.
Leo immediately grabbed his cloak and his staff. He would summon a lightning horse and be off to the south. No use sitting here any longer, only death awaited him. But when he unbarred the door to his cabin, it would not budge. Frantically he heaved with his whole body weight, but the door would not open. Leo began screaming and clawing at the timber panel, but nonetheless, it would not give way.
Finally, he tried casting a fire spell on the door, hoping to kick away the cinders and escape before the entire cabin burned. But as he finished the incantation, instead the mark on his cheek simply began to glow. The spell itself never materializing. The harder he tried to cast his magic, the greater the glow from his wound. He had been silenced. And he remained in that cabin, alone, for the rest of time.
| Cecilia stood in the dingy basement, staring at her handiwork. She ran through her check-list one last time. *"Nine-point star inscribed in a chalk circle, check. Iron filings along the circumference, check. Water in half of a hollowed gourd on the mantle, check. Chalk star sprinkled with powdered yew bark, check. Beeswax candles at the cardinal points, check." Yes, it was all good. She was ready to summon Parferhaaufus, the most powerful demonic entity, a spirit of fire.
Cecilia hopped, skipped, and jumped to the centre of the star. She pulled fished out a silver dagger, cut her left palm open, turned around thrice clockwise, and then drew the Antivan Sigil of Thirteen on the floor. With a hop, a skip and a jump back, she was back to her starting position, within a simple chalk circle.
She chanted his name thrice, fished a piece of brimstone out of her pocket and landed it in the centre of the sigil, just like she'd practiced. One final step now, only one. A cold wind gusted in from the window chilling her to the bone. Wearing nothing but a thin white robe on a cold night was a bitch!
She drew in a deep breath, focussed and visualized a white hot flame burning the brimstone. She kept her eyes screwed shut, and concentrated. She waited for what seemed like an eternity, bathed in the light of the full moon, robes fluttering around her ankles. And then...there was fire. She opened her eyes to the distinct smell of burning sulphur, and smiled.
Clouds of smoke billowed forth, somehow unaffected by the wind, never leaving the summoning circle. Cecilia peered into it anxiously for a moment, wondering if the ritual had failed...A full minute passed, and Cecilia nearly left her own circle to check on the sulphur...Suddenly, there was a red glow within the fog, and it began to swirl and gather into a humanoid form.
Cecilia stared for a moment at the bald pate, the yellow snake like eyes, the razor sharp teeth, and the goatee. Clearly this demon favoured the *classic* appearance. She took in his appearance, and somehow, despite the almost comforting familiarity of his form found him intimidating. His presence seemed to fill the room, and wrap around her. If she had to guess, it was the red flickering light that suffused his smoky form that really unnerved her.
"I need a friend," blurted out Cecilia, almost impatiently. She blushed. “Sorry. Not the best start to making friends, huh?”
Parferhauufus snorted loudly, flexed his muscular arms, and took a swing at the air in front of him. Electricity sparked faintly around the summoning circle. There was no sound, no other visual cue, but with just that, his arm was stopped cold, as if it had hit a wall. He made a sound of grudging respect and turned his eyes to the girl. He looked her up and down, making her shiver.
Cecilia started sweating, and wringing her robe in her hands. “Willyoubemyfriend?” She choked out.
Demonic eyes missed nothing. From her slim, athletic frame, the spark in the green eyes hidden behind thick glasses, the warm fire of her soul, beautiful lips marred by charcoal lipstick, the dull auburn hair...No, indeed, nothing was missed. Indeed, Hauufus (He *hated* being called Parfy, so Hauufus it was) was quite impressed that this slip of a human being had summoned him.
“State thine wish clearly. It does not become thee to mumble, and I *do not* suffer fools gladly,” said the demon. He didn’t believe for a moment that any human would want to befriend a demon. No, it had to be an elaborate ploy.
A tear ran down her cheek, sparkling silver in the moonlight. She choked out a sob. “Nobody likes me. They all hate me! I get so nervous around people that I CAN’T TALK!”
Hauufus maintained an impatient, expectant gaze at the girl. He had been quite sure that all knowledge of summoning him was lost when that fool of a summoner let him loose in the Library of Alexandria. Pity, really, but It didn't bother him that much. Dealing with most summoners was easy. Young women were the easiest, the heart of a young man, beauty, riches, vengeance, wishes that were easy to grant, and motives that were easier still to manipulate. What more could a demon want?
“Wish, summoner. Let us not play games now.” His voice was sharp. Too impatient you say? Well, you aren’t the one who had to bear *five full minutes* of sniffling and palming away of tears when you had much better things to do!
Cecilia glared back at him, “Can’t you see I’m having a moment here? Weren’t you moved by the tragic beauty of my tears sparkling in the moonlight? Don’t you want to comfort me? WELL, DON’T YOU?”
The demon was taken aback by this development. Certainly, he thought, this woman was no different from all the ones he had met. One such as her, he was sure, would want her beloved to reciprocate her feelings, or wish for beauty. There was only one time that anyone had asked him for knowledge. He missed Archimedes after a fashion; he was a rather unique specimen of humanity. “I grow tired of your ploy human,” he sighed, “tell me your wish, and let us be done with this farce.”
“I told you. I. Need. A. Friend,” she tossed her hair back. “Is that simple enough for you to grasp or does the greatest demon in existence have the intelligence of a house-fly?”
Cecilia waited, demon and girl engaged in an odd staring contest. The flashing anger that would have normally cowed her failed to have any effect whatsoever today. Parfurhauufus, like most demons had plenty of pride. He was not some lackey to be summoned on a whim to do a human’s bidding. They were not his lords. It irked him to his very soul to be bound. A summoner would normally exploit this very predictability to win the age old dance, the power-struggle between summoned and summoner.
There was no way out of it. Hauufus mentally sighed. He would have to play along. “I grant thine wish. A friend to thee, I shall be!” He prepared to swirl into a twister and promptly depart. Indeed, he formed a nice fiery tornado. A demon was only as good as his special effects after all, and the job had not gotten any easier since ILM started up. Suddenly, streaks of blue flew up from the circle, and he could not leave.
“What now, human? I’m your friend. There! See? Wish granted, why don’t you lower your arm and let me go?”
Cecilia did not lower her arm. “You haven’t helped me feel better yet, and we haven’t gone shopping together or had a nice cup of cocoa together…Where do you think you’re going buster? You have some major friend-ing to do!”
Parfurhauufus, demon of the seventh degree, master of flame, patron of the arsonist, and the most powerful black being in existence balked. *”Shit! It’s time to get out of here. Scare tactics it is.”* The beeswax candles turned black, and green towering flames rose from them. A thin layer of ice frosted over the floor. The window shut with a bang and misted over. Crude writings and death threats in blood floated all around Cecilia, whirling around and around. There was a ear-shattering screaming that seemed to pierce the bone and chill the marrow. Everything shook violently. Dead rats rained down, splattering messily on the floor.
Cecilia simply raised her arm and snapped. There was a spark, a warm blaze of flame, a cleansing heat that swept from her all around the room, and all that was wrong was undone, and Hauufus reeled back as if struck. “You’re bound by contract demon. For your attempted violation, I confine thee.”
The smoke parted, the brimstone finally stopped burning, and a red light zoomed from into a water filled gourd. Cecilia picked it up, and turned it upside down. Not a drop spilt. Hauufus’ angry roars and balls of fire did nothing. Smiling, Cecilia walked away, crooning about how she and Mr. Parfy-pants were going to have a tea party.
That dear friends was the ignominious end of the great and terrible Paarfurhauufus.
**Notes**
1. First draft. Nit-picking over spelling/grammar welcome. Information about incorrect punctuation rewarded with a cookie when accompanied by an explanation.
2. This story didn't come out quite as well as I expected. I didn't have too much direction starting out. If you're reading this, I'd love to hear whether the story felt somewhat unfocussed or not.
3. Descriptions were rather long. Any input on whether this was a plus or minus would be great.
4. Was the tone of the story consistent? Input on this is rewarded with a box of imaginary cookies.
5. Any and all critique is welcome.
**EDIT:** Formatting. Small improvement to a sentence. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Luna took out the homemade Ouija board she had been crafting for the past week. *Not the most conventional method of making friends...* she thought. She didn't have much choice, though. Her parents had divorced, her dad moving up into the reclusive mountains. This is where she was to spend her summer.
She was only sixteen, but had researched countless hours on the internet about Ouija boards, black magic, demons, etc. she was finally ready to begin.
Setting up the candles in the attic, she placed the makeshift board down and put the planchette above the G as the online guides suggest. After a few seconds of nothing, she moves it in a round motion. Finally, it starts to move.
*H-E-L-L-O*
"Hello. My name is Luna. What is yours?" She spoke excitedly, shocked it was working.
*Y-O-U-S-H-O-U-L-D-N-T-B-E-D-O-I-N-G-T-H-I-S-A-L-O-N-E-L-U-N-A*
"Why not?" She asked the board.
*Y-O-U-D-O-N-T-K-N-O-W-W-H-O-C-O-U-L-D-B-E-O-N-T-H-E-O-T-H-E-R-S-I-D-E*
Luna looked at the printouts she had brought with her. *Users may not get more than yes or no answers; this depends on the strength of the spirit. If the spirit seems very strong, it's best to move the planchette to GOODBYE as they could be dangerous.*
She started to move the planchette, but a force that took her by surprise refused to allow her to do it.
*W-A-I-T*
She hesitated... "W-what do you want?"
*T-O-T-A-L-K-T-O-Y-O-U*
She took her fingers off the board and sat there thinking, weighing the pros and cons of the situation, when the board shook. The planchette moved by itself, first in a figure eight pattern, and then it counted down from 9-0.
Everything was silent as Luna grabbed the papers, trying to find...*here it is*... She realized her mistake.
*Hello Luna.* A deep voice hisses.
"Who a-are you?" She shudders at the sudden cold in the attic. It must have dropped twenty degrees.
*Hush, child. I don't wish to frighten you. Like I said, I just want to talk.*
Luna looked around but could see nothing, "What do you want to talk about?"
A chuckle. *You. Me. Us.*
"..us?"
*Sweet Luna. I have been observing you. What do you think has been pulling you towards the occult? Who do you think had your parents name you Luna, the name of the Moon and representative of the night? I have been with you since your birth, and at the ripe age of sixteen, it is your chance to come join me.*
"W-what do you mean? I'm not going anywhere with you!" She growled, still looking around the room. *How old even is this demon creep,* she thought.
*I am only 19 in the body, Luna, and I would appreciate if you would stop with the name calling.* Suddenly the booming voice sounded tired and impatient.
"I'm sorry," she said, unsure why. "What do you want from me? Why me?"
*You're beautiful, and your pure spirit brings me joy. I would love to corrupt it.* Unbeknownst to her, Lucifer was walking around her, running his long fingers through her hair disguised as a whoosh of cold wind, feeding off the fear. She stayed silent. *All of the years of hardship you've endured, dear girl. You should never had had to go through that. Your uncle touching you... Your mom taking his side... Your dad leaving without his little princess. Why were you born into such a... Hell?*
"Don't talk about my uncle! I hate him! I hate him! And my mother too! What kind of mother would do that?!" She yelled to the nothingness. Then, quietly, "What kind of mother would do that?" She collapsed to the ground.
Lucifer held her in his lap, running his fingers through the soft black hair on her head and whispering in her ear, *You can get revenge on them all. We can, together. What do you have left in this world?*
She sat there, starting to feel the big arms around her, as silent and still as stone.
*You have an alcoholic mother-- a father who can't even look at you. You have nothing left here. Join me.*
"I can't," she spoke quietly.
*You can,* the voice spoke softly, placing something in her hand.
She looked down to see a box cutter.
*We can be together forever. I won't ever leave you like they all did.*
She sat for five minutes contemplating... She stood up finally, her limbs heavy. "This.." She spoke in a hushed tone, then screamed as loud as she could, "**This is for what you did to me!**" She cut the inside of her arm vertically, just like she had tried to do once before. Before, she stopped because of the pain. But this time, it was replaced with happiness. Lucifer was helping her. She cut herself all over, again and again and again and again, again, again, again, again, again, again, againagainagainagainagainagainagai- Until she couldn't lift her hand.
*You're ready to come home, Luna. Close your eyes. I've got you.* Lucifer carried her through the portal and into her eternal home.
Edit: wording & spelling
| Alarm clock. Stand up. Brush teeth. Shower. Dress. Drink coffee. Out the door. Walk to car. Drive to work. Get out. Walk to cubicle. Stare at computer. Pretend to care. Leave work. Make spaghetti. Watch TV. Fall asleep. Rinse. Repeat.
I couldn't tell you why I began going on all these weird occult websites. It broke up the monotony I guess. Mostly I was in it for another way to occupy my eyes for a couple more minutes, y'know, whatever I could do to keep my mind off of things. Truth is, I haven't been feeling myself lately. Scratch that, I don't even know what they means anymore. All that I know is that something needs to change.
It's been a while since I talked to anyone. Yeah, I know, I talk to people at work about spreadsheets and football and whatever disaster is on the news at the time, but that's not what I mean. I mean, really *talk* to someone. I guess the last time that happened would be when Rachel left. It's not like it's anyone's fault..I just can't find the point of it all anymore. Meeting new people. Hey, how's it going? My name's Brian. Where ya from? Wow, Chicago. Must be really cold there, huh?
It's funny, looking back it all seemed pretty mundane when I decided to click on the post. Something to do with summoning demons and all that. What a joke, right? Whoever wrote it thinks to you could do some crazy shit just by scribbling around with chalk. Alright weirdo, time to up your meds. I turned off my computer thinking: "Who would believe this shit".
The funny thing though, is that I couldn't get it out of my head. Ya know how you try not to think of elephants, and then all that you can think of is elephants? Yeah, that's what was going through my head. I thought, "I guess I might as well pick up some chalk. I don't really have anything else going on right now". Once I got the chalk, of course I had to study the symbols a little more, because I wanted to make sure everything was right, ya know? After I marked it all down, I stood up to admire my handiwork. Huh, it's actually looking pretty good..for some crazy lines and all. The post said the last step was for the summoner to bleed a little bit on the marking. Nothing crazy, just a drop or two. That's no big deal, I donated blood a couple times in high school.
I pricked my hand and dripped the blood down on the marking. After a couple seconds, I started to see some weird kind of glow coming out of the chalk. What the fuck? It's getting brighter. There's this weird purplish hue spreading throughout the lines. Now they are meeting together. Alright, I'm officially starting to get creeped out. Before I can get the hell out of here, this purplish cone erupts from the markings and reaches up to the ceiling. Inside, I can't see anything but darkness. Darkness, and red eyes. And a white smile. It's been a while since someone's smiled at me.
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The man felt a shiver run down his spine as he walked down the road, forcing him to stop midstep. He turned around to see a being in the darkness. In the dim light he could only make out the silhouette, but if the hair was anything to go by then it was female. He glanced at it fearfully, looking around for any onlookers, something about the situation making him hope that someone was there.
But no one was.
"Hi, uh... is there... anything I can help you with?"
The form shuffled slowly towards him, and he wanted to run away, but his feet felt heavy and bound. He couldn't bring himself to move, and his heart beat began to accelerate as his fear grew.
Sharp teeth peaked out into the light, like a shark's mouth, but there was no wide grin. Instead, it seemed not at all intimidating. "Why did you summon me from my plane?"
"Wh-what? I didn't-"
It lunged closer, and this time the man took several hasty steps backwards, almost falling to the ground, but managing to catch himself with his hand before he did. And then, instead of beating a hasty retreat, he stayed. More out of curiosity then some binding fear.
"Do not lie to me, Mortal." The voice shuffled like heavy curtains. "The demands of your heart pulled me from the realm of nightmares. Tell me why you have summoned me."
"I-" He looked at the monster, his fears giving way to the despair that he harbored in his soul. "I lost my pet bird the other day."
"That's all?" Anger grew in the voice. "You feel so horrible because you lost a bird?!"
"No, it's... My family doesn't talk to me any more, my wife divorced me, My job is nothing but a time sink with no chance for upward promotion. I just... I can't even take care of a bird. I'm so... stupid. I just want it to end."
The form slithered forward through the darkness. It looked at him with unreadable orbs of red, and lifted a claw away from it's body. The claw moved until it rested on his chest above his heart. "I see. Broken-hearted."
"Yea. Broken-hearted."
"Would you enjoy it if I stayed? I am in no hurry to return home."
"Heh, I don't think I have anything we could do."
"Do you have John Wayne?"
"Like, his movies?"
"Yes, I haven't seen one in a long time."
"Yea." The man smiled, looking into the red orbs that seemed so comforting at that moment. "Yea, I do." | Alarm clock. Stand up. Brush teeth. Shower. Dress. Drink coffee. Out the door. Walk to car. Drive to work. Get out. Walk to cubicle. Stare at computer. Pretend to care. Leave work. Make spaghetti. Watch TV. Fall asleep. Rinse. Repeat.
I couldn't tell you why I began going on all these weird occult websites. It broke up the monotony I guess. Mostly I was in it for another way to occupy my eyes for a couple more minutes, y'know, whatever I could do to keep my mind off of things. Truth is, I haven't been feeling myself lately. Scratch that, I don't even know what they means anymore. All that I know is that something needs to change.
It's been a while since I talked to anyone. Yeah, I know, I talk to people at work about spreadsheets and football and whatever disaster is on the news at the time, but that's not what I mean. I mean, really *talk* to someone. I guess the last time that happened would be when Rachel left. It's not like it's anyone's fault..I just can't find the point of it all anymore. Meeting new people. Hey, how's it going? My name's Brian. Where ya from? Wow, Chicago. Must be really cold there, huh?
It's funny, looking back it all seemed pretty mundane when I decided to click on the post. Something to do with summoning demons and all that. What a joke, right? Whoever wrote it thinks to you could do some crazy shit just by scribbling around with chalk. Alright weirdo, time to up your meds. I turned off my computer thinking: "Who would believe this shit".
The funny thing though, is that I couldn't get it out of my head. Ya know how you try not to think of elephants, and then all that you can think of is elephants? Yeah, that's what was going through my head. I thought, "I guess I might as well pick up some chalk. I don't really have anything else going on right now". Once I got the chalk, of course I had to study the symbols a little more, because I wanted to make sure everything was right, ya know? After I marked it all down, I stood up to admire my handiwork. Huh, it's actually looking pretty good..for some crazy lines and all. The post said the last step was for the summoner to bleed a little bit on the marking. Nothing crazy, just a drop or two. That's no big deal, I donated blood a couple times in high school.
I pricked my hand and dripped the blood down on the marking. After a couple seconds, I started to see some weird kind of glow coming out of the chalk. What the fuck? It's getting brighter. There's this weird purplish hue spreading throughout the lines. Now they are meeting together. Alright, I'm officially starting to get creeped out. Before I can get the hell out of here, this purplish cone erupts from the markings and reaches up to the ceiling. Inside, I can't see anything but darkness. Darkness, and red eyes. And a white smile. It's been a while since someone's smiled at me.
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Marcus tightened his grip on the steering wheel and felt the rubber flex under his palms. A bead of sweat found its way down its nose and he spat the salty foam over the windshield. "Oh, come on!" he screamed, stomping at the interior of the car. He watched the traffic lights like a hawk and as soon as they changed, the car accelerated forward in a mist of burnt rubber.
He punched the number into his phone again and it rang. "Pick it up, please God pick it up" he said through clenched teeth. But still the phone rang. He couldn't believe what was happening. He had kept up this charade for so long that any traces of guilt, shame or paranoia had almost vanished from his mind.
How could he have forgotten the maid was coming today? He had always been so careful, so precise with his secret. And it was quite the secret. It had driven him to the edge of sanity and back again. He had lost his job, his wife became more estranged than she was already, and both of his friends stopped returning his calls.
It had been a bad night. He felt lonely. And drunk. Someone, or something, had slipped that little scroll with the pentagram into his pocket. He always found himself much more vulnerable to the excesses of melodrama and fantasy when he was hammered, but even he would never had let himself believe anything so unnatural. He was a man of evidence and reason. How irrelevant those words seemed now. His world wasn't one of theory and science anymore, but one of eternal prophecy, divine authority and evil, ancient fury.
He wished that he had never turned the scroll over to see a note scribbled incongruously in biro. "6th June. 6am. Sunrise and blood." He laughed and turned over the scroll again to look in more detail at the pentagram on the front but found nothing on it. He turned it over again and again in his hands but could find no trace of the marks. His head swam with confusion and gin. He was a man of evidence and reason.
The 6th of June at 6am. A meadow under a new sky. A knife and a rat from the pet store. The sun rises and he drags the knife under the rat's throat, wipes the blade with the scroll and it burns, crumbles into ash. A ring of fire, horns, teeth, black eyes.
He had just been lonely.
"Hello, this is Julie if you'd like to lea-"
He hung the phone up. It didn't matter. He would be there in a moment. Just around that corner, second street on the right. The car screeched up the driveway and he leapt out the car, fumbled with his keys to get the door open and burst through the front door. He stood, frozen.
"A friend."
A familiar rumbling, hissing voice, that spat and popped like a fire, echoed from the basement. Marcus closed his eyes and wished he was somewhere else. Wished, and not for the last time, that he had never summoned the demon.
"A friend."
It repeated.
Marcus made his way down the basement, slowing his descent in terror of what would greet him. From between the beams of the staircase, he made out the figure of Julie. She was sat, her hands in her lap, quite calm and serene, with a fair-away look in her eyes. She turned her head to him and smiled a wide grin, its falseness betrayed by her dead eyes. Her mouth suddenly dropped open and hung there a moment. She spoke:
“I think we shall be great friends”
The demon was turned away from Marcus, but upon her statement, he began to turn his great, dark body round to face him. He extended his giant arm towards Julie, as if presenting his master a great gift.
It had happened again. He had asked for a friend, and it had delivered them.
One after the other.
Minds broken, just automatons, vessels for putrid, false sentiment. What could Marcus do but tell the demon to undo what he had done? Whether they went down, from where the demon had been born he knew not.
The monster smiled a little wider, in anticipation of what was to come. Marcus nodded his head in the slightest way possible and closed his eyes.
He had only wanted a friend. | Alarm clock. Stand up. Brush teeth. Shower. Dress. Drink coffee. Out the door. Walk to car. Drive to work. Get out. Walk to cubicle. Stare at computer. Pretend to care. Leave work. Make spaghetti. Watch TV. Fall asleep. Rinse. Repeat.
I couldn't tell you why I began going on all these weird occult websites. It broke up the monotony I guess. Mostly I was in it for another way to occupy my eyes for a couple more minutes, y'know, whatever I could do to keep my mind off of things. Truth is, I haven't been feeling myself lately. Scratch that, I don't even know what they means anymore. All that I know is that something needs to change.
It's been a while since I talked to anyone. Yeah, I know, I talk to people at work about spreadsheets and football and whatever disaster is on the news at the time, but that's not what I mean. I mean, really *talk* to someone. I guess the last time that happened would be when Rachel left. It's not like it's anyone's fault..I just can't find the point of it all anymore. Meeting new people. Hey, how's it going? My name's Brian. Where ya from? Wow, Chicago. Must be really cold there, huh?
It's funny, looking back it all seemed pretty mundane when I decided to click on the post. Something to do with summoning demons and all that. What a joke, right? Whoever wrote it thinks to you could do some crazy shit just by scribbling around with chalk. Alright weirdo, time to up your meds. I turned off my computer thinking: "Who would believe this shit".
The funny thing though, is that I couldn't get it out of my head. Ya know how you try not to think of elephants, and then all that you can think of is elephants? Yeah, that's what was going through my head. I thought, "I guess I might as well pick up some chalk. I don't really have anything else going on right now". Once I got the chalk, of course I had to study the symbols a little more, because I wanted to make sure everything was right, ya know? After I marked it all down, I stood up to admire my handiwork. Huh, it's actually looking pretty good..for some crazy lines and all. The post said the last step was for the summoner to bleed a little bit on the marking. Nothing crazy, just a drop or two. That's no big deal, I donated blood a couple times in high school.
I pricked my hand and dripped the blood down on the marking. After a couple seconds, I started to see some weird kind of glow coming out of the chalk. What the fuck? It's getting brighter. There's this weird purplish hue spreading throughout the lines. Now they are meeting together. Alright, I'm officially starting to get creeped out. Before I can get the hell out of here, this purplish cone erupts from the markings and reaches up to the ceiling. Inside, I can't see anything but darkness. Darkness, and red eyes. And a white smile. It's been a while since someone's smiled at me.
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The basement is dark, the only light is provided by the candles that are placed precisely at each point on the circle. Jacob finishes the incantation and stares at the center of the circle watching as a demon slowly rises through the floor. First, he sees the horns. Two on either side of the demon's head, slightly curled at the ends. Next is the demon's head. His eyes are closed and a single fang protrudes from his mouth. With each breath smoke is exhaled from him, filling the basement with the aroma of what reminded Jacob of a volcano.
Jacob sits down in a chair and puts his feet up on the chessboard, careful not to knock any of the pieces over. He leans in the chair and lets out a bored sigh.
"This is taking forever." He says to himself.
At last the demon stops. His eyelids shoot open revealing his red irises. They are not just red, they flicker and change to an orange and yellow periodically like they were fire themselves.
"I AM DRAKUS! LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD! WHAT DOES A MERE HUMAN LIKE YOU WANT WITH ME!" His voices booms, hot spit flying everywhere with each syllable spoken.
Jacob absentmindedly wipes the spit from his face and looks at Drakus, " I moved here a couple months ago and no one seems interested in being my friend."
Drakus lets out what seems to be a laugh, but it sounds more like a low rumble. Kind of what you hear before a strong earthquake hits. "And what do you think you would have accomplished by summoning me, human?"
"I dunno." Jacob shrugs and motions towards the chessboard. "I was hoping you would play a game of chess with me."
"Let me get this straight." Drakus scratches his head. "You summon the most powerful demon in the world and you want to play... chess?"
"Or checkers. I'm fine with both." Says Jacob.
"Wouldn't you rather start a war?" Drakus suggests.
"Nah." Jacob scratches the inside of his ear, seeming uninterested.
"How about we spread a plague?"
"Seems boring."
"Start the apocalypse?"
"Sounds messy."
"Possession?"
"Too much work."
Drakus sighs and takes his seat across from Jacob. Jacob shifts and sits up and makes the first move.
"I'm beginning to see why you have no friends." Says Drakus, moving his first pawn forward.
| Alarm clock. Stand up. Brush teeth. Shower. Dress. Drink coffee. Out the door. Walk to car. Drive to work. Get out. Walk to cubicle. Stare at computer. Pretend to care. Leave work. Make spaghetti. Watch TV. Fall asleep. Rinse. Repeat.
I couldn't tell you why I began going on all these weird occult websites. It broke up the monotony I guess. Mostly I was in it for another way to occupy my eyes for a couple more minutes, y'know, whatever I could do to keep my mind off of things. Truth is, I haven't been feeling myself lately. Scratch that, I don't even know what they means anymore. All that I know is that something needs to change.
It's been a while since I talked to anyone. Yeah, I know, I talk to people at work about spreadsheets and football and whatever disaster is on the news at the time, but that's not what I mean. I mean, really *talk* to someone. I guess the last time that happened would be when Rachel left. It's not like it's anyone's fault..I just can't find the point of it all anymore. Meeting new people. Hey, how's it going? My name's Brian. Where ya from? Wow, Chicago. Must be really cold there, huh?
It's funny, looking back it all seemed pretty mundane when I decided to click on the post. Something to do with summoning demons and all that. What a joke, right? Whoever wrote it thinks to you could do some crazy shit just by scribbling around with chalk. Alright weirdo, time to up your meds. I turned off my computer thinking: "Who would believe this shit".
The funny thing though, is that I couldn't get it out of my head. Ya know how you try not to think of elephants, and then all that you can think of is elephants? Yeah, that's what was going through my head. I thought, "I guess I might as well pick up some chalk. I don't really have anything else going on right now". Once I got the chalk, of course I had to study the symbols a little more, because I wanted to make sure everything was right, ya know? After I marked it all down, I stood up to admire my handiwork. Huh, it's actually looking pretty good..for some crazy lines and all. The post said the last step was for the summoner to bleed a little bit on the marking. Nothing crazy, just a drop or two. That's no big deal, I donated blood a couple times in high school.
I pricked my hand and dripped the blood down on the marking. After a couple seconds, I started to see some weird kind of glow coming out of the chalk. What the fuck? It's getting brighter. There's this weird purplish hue spreading throughout the lines. Now they are meeting together. Alright, I'm officially starting to get creeped out. Before I can get the hell out of here, this purplish cone erupts from the markings and reaches up to the ceiling. Inside, I can't see anything but darkness. Darkness, and red eyes. And a white smile. It's been a while since someone's smiled at me.
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "Well son of a bitch, it finally worked" Leo muttered under his breath as the carefully drawn runes on the floor began to glow in shifting shades of iridescent blue and red. His marked pessimism had only grown stronger with age, and as the void wretched itself open, and two grisly claws began to emerge from the nether, he thought to himself this will be a fitting end to his career as a summoner. His greatest achievement, would go unrecorded and unremembered.
It was not always so for Leo. There was a time in his life, where this summoning would have been celebrated as a grand display of his prowess. Leo's family was killed by the invading hordes from the East when he was young. At 12, he started practicing black magic as a student under a Dark Magician in the Imperial Army, who had taken to adopting orphaned youngsters who showed proficiency. His goal was to groom these children to serve as battle mages.
Leo instantly showed an affinity for summoning. His abilities quickly surpassed those of his peers. Soon he was enlisted as a battle mage, and sent out with a regiment of soldiers. With all the confidence in this world and the next, Leo charged into battle time and time again with these men. However, several mistakes were made. These were not the fault of Leo directly. Battle is unpredictable to say the least. The creatures Leo summoned were either inappropriate for the situation at hand, or were not powerful enough to route the enemy forces.
Word of these failures spread, and the command of the Imperial Army was not one to give second, let alone third, chances. Soon Leo's days as a battle mage were over. For the rest of his career, he was relegated to menial duties such as enchanting cursed arrows for the archers. Typical black magic apprentice work. Leo always wondered though, what life would been like had he been a successful summoner. He wondered about it until this very day, which he was suddenly snapped back to.
The demon, now fully materialized from the void, spoke to Leo. The demon obviously didn't make any real sound, but Leo could hear the voice audibly in his head. It could only be described as a young boy's voice and an old man's voice speaking simultaneously.
"Why have you brought me here?" The demon whispered into the back of his mind. Leo froze, then responded. "Honestly?"
The demon roared in Leo's mind "I will destroy you in a moment if you lie." The demon began to move. It's movements belied the ferocious tone it had just taken with it's summoner. It slowly rose from it's knees in front of the rift to the void, and stood up to reveal it's bipedal humanoid form. It appeared as only the darkest shadow, no other details could be seen.
Leo, for the first time in this whole ordeal, began to feel a tinge of fear. He responded carefully. "I summoned you, for no other reason, than to see if I could." He slowly looked down at this spell book, averting his eyes from the demon.
"You old fool!" the demon hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"I am aware" Leo responded, without lifting his gaze.
"Then you know I am endless torment! I am the plague and the purge. My many names are written in blood across the battlefields of this plane. You will sacrifice greatly for bringing me here wizard! You will now know the *true* meaning of loss and sorrow!"
"I only have my life" Leo responded, almost interrupting the demon from waxing poetic. "When I attempted the summoning, I knew my life would most likely be forfeit. I have accepted that. I do not desire to love longer as it is."
In the blink of an eye, The demon closed the 15 meter gap between it and Leo. It now had it's hand around Leo's throat, and it's "face" was inches from Leo's own. The demon snarled, as it searched Leo's soul and saw what he had said was true.
"Your miserable life means nothing to me" the demon said. "I will harvest all you hold dear. I will reap your family, your closest friends, and hang them in my storehouse. There they will suffer for eternity, as a profane reminder as to the consequences of a mortal beckoning me forth."
"Friends, Family?" Leo said somberly. "They are all gone. Have been for quite some time. I am alone in this world. I have nothing, I have no one. I summoned you demon, simply to remember what it's like to speak to another being. There was a famine last year, and everyone headed south to find food. I remained behind, as I had no one to travel with. I think I may be the last man in the north. If I am not, I have yet to see another one. Anyway, this spring, my crops failed. Soon I will be out of food. I am too old and my health is too poor to try and complete the journey south now. No, I am well aware of my fate. I brought you here, just to speak to someone If only for one last time."
The demon was absolutely motionless. It stared into Leo's eyes for what seemed like hours but was only a few moments. It searched his soul completely, and found everything he said to be true.
In a flash, the demon drew a sword from it's back. The smell of burning flesh and sulfur instantly filled the room. It slashed at Leo at an almost inperceivable speed. The blade avoided killing him by millimeters. Instead, it left a gash on his left cheek, which instantly cauterized and closed. The slash also opened a new rift back into the void.
"No mortal, you will suffer greatly" The demon spoke directly into Leo's mind. "Congratulations wizard, you are the only human who has ever been in my presence and lived." And with that, the demon stepped back into the void, and vanished.
Leo's old heart was close to failure it had been beating so hard. Slowly, he regained his breath, and sat down. What had he just done? He had just completed summoning the most powerful being he had ever summoned in his entire life. Possibly the greatest summoning in the history of the discipline! He could hardly believe what had just happened.
Perhaps he was worth something after all! Leo's mind began to work in a way it had not in many years. Maybe he was important! If his spirit was powerful enough to save him from the lord of the void, maybe he would stand a chance leaving this God forsaken farm and heading south. South to people. South to civilization.
Leo immediately grabbed his cloak and his staff. He would summon a lightning horse and be off to the south. No use sitting here any longer, only death awaited him. But when he unbarred the door to his cabin, it would not budge. Frantically he heaved with his whole body weight, but the door would not open. Leo began screaming and clawing at the timber panel, but nonetheless, it would not give way.
Finally, he tried casting a fire spell on the door, hoping to kick away the cinders and escape before the entire cabin burned. But as he finished the incantation, instead the mark on his cheek simply began to glow. The spell itself never materializing. The harder he tried to cast his magic, the greater the glow from his wound. He had been silenced. And he remained in that cabin, alone, for the rest of time.
| Alarm clock. Stand up. Brush teeth. Shower. Dress. Drink coffee. Out the door. Walk to car. Drive to work. Get out. Walk to cubicle. Stare at computer. Pretend to care. Leave work. Make spaghetti. Watch TV. Fall asleep. Rinse. Repeat.
I couldn't tell you why I began going on all these weird occult websites. It broke up the monotony I guess. Mostly I was in it for another way to occupy my eyes for a couple more minutes, y'know, whatever I could do to keep my mind off of things. Truth is, I haven't been feeling myself lately. Scratch that, I don't even know what they means anymore. All that I know is that something needs to change.
It's been a while since I talked to anyone. Yeah, I know, I talk to people at work about spreadsheets and football and whatever disaster is on the news at the time, but that's not what I mean. I mean, really *talk* to someone. I guess the last time that happened would be when Rachel left. It's not like it's anyone's fault..I just can't find the point of it all anymore. Meeting new people. Hey, how's it going? My name's Brian. Where ya from? Wow, Chicago. Must be really cold there, huh?
It's funny, looking back it all seemed pretty mundane when I decided to click on the post. Something to do with summoning demons and all that. What a joke, right? Whoever wrote it thinks to you could do some crazy shit just by scribbling around with chalk. Alright weirdo, time to up your meds. I turned off my computer thinking: "Who would believe this shit".
The funny thing though, is that I couldn't get it out of my head. Ya know how you try not to think of elephants, and then all that you can think of is elephants? Yeah, that's what was going through my head. I thought, "I guess I might as well pick up some chalk. I don't really have anything else going on right now". Once I got the chalk, of course I had to study the symbols a little more, because I wanted to make sure everything was right, ya know? After I marked it all down, I stood up to admire my handiwork. Huh, it's actually looking pretty good..for some crazy lines and all. The post said the last step was for the summoner to bleed a little bit on the marking. Nothing crazy, just a drop or two. That's no big deal, I donated blood a couple times in high school.
I pricked my hand and dripped the blood down on the marking. After a couple seconds, I started to see some weird kind of glow coming out of the chalk. What the fuck? It's getting brighter. There's this weird purplish hue spreading throughout the lines. Now they are meeting together. Alright, I'm officially starting to get creeped out. Before I can get the hell out of here, this purplish cone erupts from the markings and reaches up to the ceiling. Inside, I can't see anything but darkness. Darkness, and red eyes. And a white smile. It's been a while since someone's smiled at me.
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Luna took out the homemade Ouija board she had been crafting for the past week. *Not the most conventional method of making friends...* she thought. She didn't have much choice, though. Her parents had divorced, her dad moving up into the reclusive mountains. This is where she was to spend her summer.
She was only sixteen, but had researched countless hours on the internet about Ouija boards, black magic, demons, etc. she was finally ready to begin.
Setting up the candles in the attic, she placed the makeshift board down and put the planchette above the G as the online guides suggest. After a few seconds of nothing, she moves it in a round motion. Finally, it starts to move.
*H-E-L-L-O*
"Hello. My name is Luna. What is yours?" She spoke excitedly, shocked it was working.
*Y-O-U-S-H-O-U-L-D-N-T-B-E-D-O-I-N-G-T-H-I-S-A-L-O-N-E-L-U-N-A*
"Why not?" She asked the board.
*Y-O-U-D-O-N-T-K-N-O-W-W-H-O-C-O-U-L-D-B-E-O-N-T-H-E-O-T-H-E-R-S-I-D-E*
Luna looked at the printouts she had brought with her. *Users may not get more than yes or no answers; this depends on the strength of the spirit. If the spirit seems very strong, it's best to move the planchette to GOODBYE as they could be dangerous.*
She started to move the planchette, but a force that took her by surprise refused to allow her to do it.
*W-A-I-T*
She hesitated... "W-what do you want?"
*T-O-T-A-L-K-T-O-Y-O-U*
She took her fingers off the board and sat there thinking, weighing the pros and cons of the situation, when the board shook. The planchette moved by itself, first in a figure eight pattern, and then it counted down from 9-0.
Everything was silent as Luna grabbed the papers, trying to find...*here it is*... She realized her mistake.
*Hello Luna.* A deep voice hisses.
"Who a-are you?" She shudders at the sudden cold in the attic. It must have dropped twenty degrees.
*Hush, child. I don't wish to frighten you. Like I said, I just want to talk.*
Luna looked around but could see nothing, "What do you want to talk about?"
A chuckle. *You. Me. Us.*
"..us?"
*Sweet Luna. I have been observing you. What do you think has been pulling you towards the occult? Who do you think had your parents name you Luna, the name of the Moon and representative of the night? I have been with you since your birth, and at the ripe age of sixteen, it is your chance to come join me.*
"W-what do you mean? I'm not going anywhere with you!" She growled, still looking around the room. *How old even is this demon creep,* she thought.
*I am only 19 in the body, Luna, and I would appreciate if you would stop with the name calling.* Suddenly the booming voice sounded tired and impatient.
"I'm sorry," she said, unsure why. "What do you want from me? Why me?"
*You're beautiful, and your pure spirit brings me joy. I would love to corrupt it.* Unbeknownst to her, Lucifer was walking around her, running his long fingers through her hair disguised as a whoosh of cold wind, feeding off the fear. She stayed silent. *All of the years of hardship you've endured, dear girl. You should never had had to go through that. Your uncle touching you... Your mom taking his side... Your dad leaving without his little princess. Why were you born into such a... Hell?*
"Don't talk about my uncle! I hate him! I hate him! And my mother too! What kind of mother would do that?!" She yelled to the nothingness. Then, quietly, "What kind of mother would do that?" She collapsed to the ground.
Lucifer held her in his lap, running his fingers through the soft black hair on her head and whispering in her ear, *You can get revenge on them all. We can, together. What do you have left in this world?*
She sat there, starting to feel the big arms around her, as silent and still as stone.
*You have an alcoholic mother-- a father who can't even look at you. You have nothing left here. Join me.*
"I can't," she spoke quietly.
*You can,* the voice spoke softly, placing something in her hand.
She looked down to see a box cutter.
*We can be together forever. I won't ever leave you like they all did.*
She sat for five minutes contemplating... She stood up finally, her limbs heavy. "This.." She spoke in a hushed tone, then screamed as loud as she could, "**This is for what you did to me!**" She cut the inside of her arm vertically, just like she had tried to do once before. Before, she stopped because of the pain. But this time, it was replaced with happiness. Lucifer was helping her. She cut herself all over, again and again and again and again, again, again, again, again, again, again, againagainagainagainagainagainagai- Until she couldn't lift her hand.
*You're ready to come home, Luna. Close your eyes. I've got you.* Lucifer carried her through the portal and into her eternal home.
Edit: wording & spelling
| - Agh, it's been ages since I've actually talked to anyone, and I don't really think anyone likes me... What can I do..?
- OH! I know! I found a tutorial online on how to make friends! This surely should help me out!
- So here it says "light 6 candles, 5 in a circle, and one in the center", and there we g-
*suddenly a giant flash of heat and flames appears before him*
> **It is I, the Dark Lord! King of the underworld and the second hand of the Universe! Are you aware of what you have done, mere human!?**
- Sorta, I read this tutorial about making friends, and followed the first step...
*turns computer screen towards the Dark Lord*
> **So, by following this *tutorial* on the Internet, you somehow summoned me, the Dark Lord!?**
- A friend's a friend, I guess. It reminds me, I completed the Binding of Isaac earl-
> **THE WHAT!?**
- The Binding of Isaac, it's a fun little game about a child whose mother wants to sacrifice him to god.
> **The Dark Lord has no interest in silly video games!**
- You're in it
> **I... Am?**
- Yeah, you're the final boss!
> **Hmm, to think such a silly thing would honor me, wait. Does that mean I get killed?**
- Sorta, but it's damn difficult to do.
> **THE DARK LORD CANNOT BE KILLED! WHAT MORTAL WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO THINK THAT!?**
- Game creators can do whatever they want, you know. They make the games, not you. It's only a representation anyway, you'd kill a baby in seconds if it wanted to go against you, wouldn't you?
> **Hell no! What kind of-? I may be the Dark Lord, but even *I* have morals!**
- I guess that explains why you haven't killed me yet.
> **I'll only kill you if you're a good person, from which I can see, isn't the case**
- Shall I continue the game? I'll replay the Dark Lord battle, to show you what I meant earlier.
> **Oh, alright. I'm taking you to Hell afterwards, though. It does get a bit lonely there, and your nonsense intrigues me. You said you had no friends, so it doesn't matter, does it?**
- Guess not, being the prince of Hell would be quite fun
> **Whoa, I never said you're becoming the Prince! You've gotta earn that!**
- Don't worry. Here it is
*Final boss battle begins*
> **Wha-? That doesn't look anything *like* me! Do these people even know what I look like!? I don't have ugly goat legs like that!**
____________
That was my first go, and I'm not too sure how I feel about that. I hope you like it! | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The man felt a shiver run down his spine as he walked down the road, forcing him to stop midstep. He turned around to see a being in the darkness. In the dim light he could only make out the silhouette, but if the hair was anything to go by then it was female. He glanced at it fearfully, looking around for any onlookers, something about the situation making him hope that someone was there.
But no one was.
"Hi, uh... is there... anything I can help you with?"
The form shuffled slowly towards him, and he wanted to run away, but his feet felt heavy and bound. He couldn't bring himself to move, and his heart beat began to accelerate as his fear grew.
Sharp teeth peaked out into the light, like a shark's mouth, but there was no wide grin. Instead, it seemed not at all intimidating. "Why did you summon me from my plane?"
"Wh-what? I didn't-"
It lunged closer, and this time the man took several hasty steps backwards, almost falling to the ground, but managing to catch himself with his hand before he did. And then, instead of beating a hasty retreat, he stayed. More out of curiosity then some binding fear.
"Do not lie to me, Mortal." The voice shuffled like heavy curtains. "The demands of your heart pulled me from the realm of nightmares. Tell me why you have summoned me."
"I-" He looked at the monster, his fears giving way to the despair that he harbored in his soul. "I lost my pet bird the other day."
"That's all?" Anger grew in the voice. "You feel so horrible because you lost a bird?!"
"No, it's... My family doesn't talk to me any more, my wife divorced me, My job is nothing but a time sink with no chance for upward promotion. I just... I can't even take care of a bird. I'm so... stupid. I just want it to end."
The form slithered forward through the darkness. It looked at him with unreadable orbs of red, and lifted a claw away from it's body. The claw moved until it rested on his chest above his heart. "I see. Broken-hearted."
"Yea. Broken-hearted."
"Would you enjoy it if I stayed? I am in no hurry to return home."
"Heh, I don't think I have anything we could do."
"Do you have John Wayne?"
"Like, his movies?"
"Yes, I haven't seen one in a long time."
"Yea." The man smiled, looking into the red orbs that seemed so comforting at that moment. "Yea, I do." | - Agh, it's been ages since I've actually talked to anyone, and I don't really think anyone likes me... What can I do..?
- OH! I know! I found a tutorial online on how to make friends! This surely should help me out!
- So here it says "light 6 candles, 5 in a circle, and one in the center", and there we g-
*suddenly a giant flash of heat and flames appears before him*
> **It is I, the Dark Lord! King of the underworld and the second hand of the Universe! Are you aware of what you have done, mere human!?**
- Sorta, I read this tutorial about making friends, and followed the first step...
*turns computer screen towards the Dark Lord*
> **So, by following this *tutorial* on the Internet, you somehow summoned me, the Dark Lord!?**
- A friend's a friend, I guess. It reminds me, I completed the Binding of Isaac earl-
> **THE WHAT!?**
- The Binding of Isaac, it's a fun little game about a child whose mother wants to sacrifice him to god.
> **The Dark Lord has no interest in silly video games!**
- You're in it
> **I... Am?**
- Yeah, you're the final boss!
> **Hmm, to think such a silly thing would honor me, wait. Does that mean I get killed?**
- Sorta, but it's damn difficult to do.
> **THE DARK LORD CANNOT BE KILLED! WHAT MORTAL WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO THINK THAT!?**
- Game creators can do whatever they want, you know. They make the games, not you. It's only a representation anyway, you'd kill a baby in seconds if it wanted to go against you, wouldn't you?
> **Hell no! What kind of-? I may be the Dark Lord, but even *I* have morals!**
- I guess that explains why you haven't killed me yet.
> **I'll only kill you if you're a good person, from which I can see, isn't the case**
- Shall I continue the game? I'll replay the Dark Lord battle, to show you what I meant earlier.
> **Oh, alright. I'm taking you to Hell afterwards, though. It does get a bit lonely there, and your nonsense intrigues me. You said you had no friends, so it doesn't matter, does it?**
- Guess not, being the prince of Hell would be quite fun
> **Whoa, I never said you're becoming the Prince! You've gotta earn that!**
- Don't worry. Here it is
*Final boss battle begins*
> **Wha-? That doesn't look anything *like* me! Do these people even know what I look like!? I don't have ugly goat legs like that!**
____________
That was my first go, and I'm not too sure how I feel about that. I hope you like it! | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Marcus tightened his grip on the steering wheel and felt the rubber flex under his palms. A bead of sweat found its way down its nose and he spat the salty foam over the windshield. "Oh, come on!" he screamed, stomping at the interior of the car. He watched the traffic lights like a hawk and as soon as they changed, the car accelerated forward in a mist of burnt rubber.
He punched the number into his phone again and it rang. "Pick it up, please God pick it up" he said through clenched teeth. But still the phone rang. He couldn't believe what was happening. He had kept up this charade for so long that any traces of guilt, shame or paranoia had almost vanished from his mind.
How could he have forgotten the maid was coming today? He had always been so careful, so precise with his secret. And it was quite the secret. It had driven him to the edge of sanity and back again. He had lost his job, his wife became more estranged than she was already, and both of his friends stopped returning his calls.
It had been a bad night. He felt lonely. And drunk. Someone, or something, had slipped that little scroll with the pentagram into his pocket. He always found himself much more vulnerable to the excesses of melodrama and fantasy when he was hammered, but even he would never had let himself believe anything so unnatural. He was a man of evidence and reason. How irrelevant those words seemed now. His world wasn't one of theory and science anymore, but one of eternal prophecy, divine authority and evil, ancient fury.
He wished that he had never turned the scroll over to see a note scribbled incongruously in biro. "6th June. 6am. Sunrise and blood." He laughed and turned over the scroll again to look in more detail at the pentagram on the front but found nothing on it. He turned it over again and again in his hands but could find no trace of the marks. His head swam with confusion and gin. He was a man of evidence and reason.
The 6th of June at 6am. A meadow under a new sky. A knife and a rat from the pet store. The sun rises and he drags the knife under the rat's throat, wipes the blade with the scroll and it burns, crumbles into ash. A ring of fire, horns, teeth, black eyes.
He had just been lonely.
"Hello, this is Julie if you'd like to lea-"
He hung the phone up. It didn't matter. He would be there in a moment. Just around that corner, second street on the right. The car screeched up the driveway and he leapt out the car, fumbled with his keys to get the door open and burst through the front door. He stood, frozen.
"A friend."
A familiar rumbling, hissing voice, that spat and popped like a fire, echoed from the basement. Marcus closed his eyes and wished he was somewhere else. Wished, and not for the last time, that he had never summoned the demon.
"A friend."
It repeated.
Marcus made his way down the basement, slowing his descent in terror of what would greet him. From between the beams of the staircase, he made out the figure of Julie. She was sat, her hands in her lap, quite calm and serene, with a fair-away look in her eyes. She turned her head to him and smiled a wide grin, its falseness betrayed by her dead eyes. Her mouth suddenly dropped open and hung there a moment. She spoke:
“I think we shall be great friends”
The demon was turned away from Marcus, but upon her statement, he began to turn his great, dark body round to face him. He extended his giant arm towards Julie, as if presenting his master a great gift.
It had happened again. He had asked for a friend, and it had delivered them.
One after the other.
Minds broken, just automatons, vessels for putrid, false sentiment. What could Marcus do but tell the demon to undo what he had done? Whether they went down, from where the demon had been born he knew not.
The monster smiled a little wider, in anticipation of what was to come. Marcus nodded his head in the slightest way possible and closed his eyes.
He had only wanted a friend. | - Agh, it's been ages since I've actually talked to anyone, and I don't really think anyone likes me... What can I do..?
- OH! I know! I found a tutorial online on how to make friends! This surely should help me out!
- So here it says "light 6 candles, 5 in a circle, and one in the center", and there we g-
*suddenly a giant flash of heat and flames appears before him*
> **It is I, the Dark Lord! King of the underworld and the second hand of the Universe! Are you aware of what you have done, mere human!?**
- Sorta, I read this tutorial about making friends, and followed the first step...
*turns computer screen towards the Dark Lord*
> **So, by following this *tutorial* on the Internet, you somehow summoned me, the Dark Lord!?**
- A friend's a friend, I guess. It reminds me, I completed the Binding of Isaac earl-
> **THE WHAT!?**
- The Binding of Isaac, it's a fun little game about a child whose mother wants to sacrifice him to god.
> **The Dark Lord has no interest in silly video games!**
- You're in it
> **I... Am?**
- Yeah, you're the final boss!
> **Hmm, to think such a silly thing would honor me, wait. Does that mean I get killed?**
- Sorta, but it's damn difficult to do.
> **THE DARK LORD CANNOT BE KILLED! WHAT MORTAL WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO THINK THAT!?**
- Game creators can do whatever they want, you know. They make the games, not you. It's only a representation anyway, you'd kill a baby in seconds if it wanted to go against you, wouldn't you?
> **Hell no! What kind of-? I may be the Dark Lord, but even *I* have morals!**
- I guess that explains why you haven't killed me yet.
> **I'll only kill you if you're a good person, from which I can see, isn't the case**
- Shall I continue the game? I'll replay the Dark Lord battle, to show you what I meant earlier.
> **Oh, alright. I'm taking you to Hell afterwards, though. It does get a bit lonely there, and your nonsense intrigues me. You said you had no friends, so it doesn't matter, does it?**
- Guess not, being the prince of Hell would be quite fun
> **Whoa, I never said you're becoming the Prince! You've gotta earn that!**
- Don't worry. Here it is
*Final boss battle begins*
> **Wha-? That doesn't look anything *like* me! Do these people even know what I look like!? I don't have ugly goat legs like that!**
____________
That was my first go, and I'm not too sure how I feel about that. I hope you like it! | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The basement is dark, the only light is provided by the candles that are placed precisely at each point on the circle. Jacob finishes the incantation and stares at the center of the circle watching as a demon slowly rises through the floor. First, he sees the horns. Two on either side of the demon's head, slightly curled at the ends. Next is the demon's head. His eyes are closed and a single fang protrudes from his mouth. With each breath smoke is exhaled from him, filling the basement with the aroma of what reminded Jacob of a volcano.
Jacob sits down in a chair and puts his feet up on the chessboard, careful not to knock any of the pieces over. He leans in the chair and lets out a bored sigh.
"This is taking forever." He says to himself.
At last the demon stops. His eyelids shoot open revealing his red irises. They are not just red, they flicker and change to an orange and yellow periodically like they were fire themselves.
"I AM DRAKUS! LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD! WHAT DOES A MERE HUMAN LIKE YOU WANT WITH ME!" His voices booms, hot spit flying everywhere with each syllable spoken.
Jacob absentmindedly wipes the spit from his face and looks at Drakus, " I moved here a couple months ago and no one seems interested in being my friend."
Drakus lets out what seems to be a laugh, but it sounds more like a low rumble. Kind of what you hear before a strong earthquake hits. "And what do you think you would have accomplished by summoning me, human?"
"I dunno." Jacob shrugs and motions towards the chessboard. "I was hoping you would play a game of chess with me."
"Let me get this straight." Drakus scratches his head. "You summon the most powerful demon in the world and you want to play... chess?"
"Or checkers. I'm fine with both." Says Jacob.
"Wouldn't you rather start a war?" Drakus suggests.
"Nah." Jacob scratches the inside of his ear, seeming uninterested.
"How about we spread a plague?"
"Seems boring."
"Start the apocalypse?"
"Sounds messy."
"Possession?"
"Too much work."
Drakus sighs and takes his seat across from Jacob. Jacob shifts and sits up and makes the first move.
"I'm beginning to see why you have no friends." Says Drakus, moving his first pawn forward.
| - Agh, it's been ages since I've actually talked to anyone, and I don't really think anyone likes me... What can I do..?
- OH! I know! I found a tutorial online on how to make friends! This surely should help me out!
- So here it says "light 6 candles, 5 in a circle, and one in the center", and there we g-
*suddenly a giant flash of heat and flames appears before him*
> **It is I, the Dark Lord! King of the underworld and the second hand of the Universe! Are you aware of what you have done, mere human!?**
- Sorta, I read this tutorial about making friends, and followed the first step...
*turns computer screen towards the Dark Lord*
> **So, by following this *tutorial* on the Internet, you somehow summoned me, the Dark Lord!?**
- A friend's a friend, I guess. It reminds me, I completed the Binding of Isaac earl-
> **THE WHAT!?**
- The Binding of Isaac, it's a fun little game about a child whose mother wants to sacrifice him to god.
> **The Dark Lord has no interest in silly video games!**
- You're in it
> **I... Am?**
- Yeah, you're the final boss!
> **Hmm, to think such a silly thing would honor me, wait. Does that mean I get killed?**
- Sorta, but it's damn difficult to do.
> **THE DARK LORD CANNOT BE KILLED! WHAT MORTAL WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO THINK THAT!?**
- Game creators can do whatever they want, you know. They make the games, not you. It's only a representation anyway, you'd kill a baby in seconds if it wanted to go against you, wouldn't you?
> **Hell no! What kind of-? I may be the Dark Lord, but even *I* have morals!**
- I guess that explains why you haven't killed me yet.
> **I'll only kill you if you're a good person, from which I can see, isn't the case**
- Shall I continue the game? I'll replay the Dark Lord battle, to show you what I meant earlier.
> **Oh, alright. I'm taking you to Hell afterwards, though. It does get a bit lonely there, and your nonsense intrigues me. You said you had no friends, so it doesn't matter, does it?**
- Guess not, being the prince of Hell would be quite fun
> **Whoa, I never said you're becoming the Prince! You've gotta earn that!**
- Don't worry. Here it is
*Final boss battle begins*
> **Wha-? That doesn't look anything *like* me! Do these people even know what I look like!? I don't have ugly goat legs like that!**
____________
That was my first go, and I'm not too sure how I feel about that. I hope you like it! | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "Well son of a bitch, it finally worked" Leo muttered under his breath as the carefully drawn runes on the floor began to glow in shifting shades of iridescent blue and red. His marked pessimism had only grown stronger with age, and as the void wretched itself open, and two grisly claws began to emerge from the nether, he thought to himself this will be a fitting end to his career as a summoner. His greatest achievement, would go unrecorded and unremembered.
It was not always so for Leo. There was a time in his life, where this summoning would have been celebrated as a grand display of his prowess. Leo's family was killed by the invading hordes from the East when he was young. At 12, he started practicing black magic as a student under a Dark Magician in the Imperial Army, who had taken to adopting orphaned youngsters who showed proficiency. His goal was to groom these children to serve as battle mages.
Leo instantly showed an affinity for summoning. His abilities quickly surpassed those of his peers. Soon he was enlisted as a battle mage, and sent out with a regiment of soldiers. With all the confidence in this world and the next, Leo charged into battle time and time again with these men. However, several mistakes were made. These were not the fault of Leo directly. Battle is unpredictable to say the least. The creatures Leo summoned were either inappropriate for the situation at hand, or were not powerful enough to route the enemy forces.
Word of these failures spread, and the command of the Imperial Army was not one to give second, let alone third, chances. Soon Leo's days as a battle mage were over. For the rest of his career, he was relegated to menial duties such as enchanting cursed arrows for the archers. Typical black magic apprentice work. Leo always wondered though, what life would been like had he been a successful summoner. He wondered about it until this very day, which he was suddenly snapped back to.
The demon, now fully materialized from the void, spoke to Leo. The demon obviously didn't make any real sound, but Leo could hear the voice audibly in his head. It could only be described as a young boy's voice and an old man's voice speaking simultaneously.
"Why have you brought me here?" The demon whispered into the back of his mind. Leo froze, then responded. "Honestly?"
The demon roared in Leo's mind "I will destroy you in a moment if you lie." The demon began to move. It's movements belied the ferocious tone it had just taken with it's summoner. It slowly rose from it's knees in front of the rift to the void, and stood up to reveal it's bipedal humanoid form. It appeared as only the darkest shadow, no other details could be seen.
Leo, for the first time in this whole ordeal, began to feel a tinge of fear. He responded carefully. "I summoned you, for no other reason, than to see if I could." He slowly looked down at this spell book, averting his eyes from the demon.
"You old fool!" the demon hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"I am aware" Leo responded, without lifting his gaze.
"Then you know I am endless torment! I am the plague and the purge. My many names are written in blood across the battlefields of this plane. You will sacrifice greatly for bringing me here wizard! You will now know the *true* meaning of loss and sorrow!"
"I only have my life" Leo responded, almost interrupting the demon from waxing poetic. "When I attempted the summoning, I knew my life would most likely be forfeit. I have accepted that. I do not desire to love longer as it is."
In the blink of an eye, The demon closed the 15 meter gap between it and Leo. It now had it's hand around Leo's throat, and it's "face" was inches from Leo's own. The demon snarled, as it searched Leo's soul and saw what he had said was true.
"Your miserable life means nothing to me" the demon said. "I will harvest all you hold dear. I will reap your family, your closest friends, and hang them in my storehouse. There they will suffer for eternity, as a profane reminder as to the consequences of a mortal beckoning me forth."
"Friends, Family?" Leo said somberly. "They are all gone. Have been for quite some time. I am alone in this world. I have nothing, I have no one. I summoned you demon, simply to remember what it's like to speak to another being. There was a famine last year, and everyone headed south to find food. I remained behind, as I had no one to travel with. I think I may be the last man in the north. If I am not, I have yet to see another one. Anyway, this spring, my crops failed. Soon I will be out of food. I am too old and my health is too poor to try and complete the journey south now. No, I am well aware of my fate. I brought you here, just to speak to someone If only for one last time."
The demon was absolutely motionless. It stared into Leo's eyes for what seemed like hours but was only a few moments. It searched his soul completely, and found everything he said to be true.
In a flash, the demon drew a sword from it's back. The smell of burning flesh and sulfur instantly filled the room. It slashed at Leo at an almost inperceivable speed. The blade avoided killing him by millimeters. Instead, it left a gash on his left cheek, which instantly cauterized and closed. The slash also opened a new rift back into the void.
"No mortal, you will suffer greatly" The demon spoke directly into Leo's mind. "Congratulations wizard, you are the only human who has ever been in my presence and lived." And with that, the demon stepped back into the void, and vanished.
Leo's old heart was close to failure it had been beating so hard. Slowly, he regained his breath, and sat down. What had he just done? He had just completed summoning the most powerful being he had ever summoned in his entire life. Possibly the greatest summoning in the history of the discipline! He could hardly believe what had just happened.
Perhaps he was worth something after all! Leo's mind began to work in a way it had not in many years. Maybe he was important! If his spirit was powerful enough to save him from the lord of the void, maybe he would stand a chance leaving this God forsaken farm and heading south. South to people. South to civilization.
Leo immediately grabbed his cloak and his staff. He would summon a lightning horse and be off to the south. No use sitting here any longer, only death awaited him. But when he unbarred the door to his cabin, it would not budge. Frantically he heaved with his whole body weight, but the door would not open. Leo began screaming and clawing at the timber panel, but nonetheless, it would not give way.
Finally, he tried casting a fire spell on the door, hoping to kick away the cinders and escape before the entire cabin burned. But as he finished the incantation, instead the mark on his cheek simply began to glow. The spell itself never materializing. The harder he tried to cast his magic, the greater the glow from his wound. He had been silenced. And he remained in that cabin, alone, for the rest of time.
| - Agh, it's been ages since I've actually talked to anyone, and I don't really think anyone likes me... What can I do..?
- OH! I know! I found a tutorial online on how to make friends! This surely should help me out!
- So here it says "light 6 candles, 5 in a circle, and one in the center", and there we g-
*suddenly a giant flash of heat and flames appears before him*
> **It is I, the Dark Lord! King of the underworld and the second hand of the Universe! Are you aware of what you have done, mere human!?**
- Sorta, I read this tutorial about making friends, and followed the first step...
*turns computer screen towards the Dark Lord*
> **So, by following this *tutorial* on the Internet, you somehow summoned me, the Dark Lord!?**
- A friend's a friend, I guess. It reminds me, I completed the Binding of Isaac earl-
> **THE WHAT!?**
- The Binding of Isaac, it's a fun little game about a child whose mother wants to sacrifice him to god.
> **The Dark Lord has no interest in silly video games!**
- You're in it
> **I... Am?**
- Yeah, you're the final boss!
> **Hmm, to think such a silly thing would honor me, wait. Does that mean I get killed?**
- Sorta, but it's damn difficult to do.
> **THE DARK LORD CANNOT BE KILLED! WHAT MORTAL WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO THINK THAT!?**
- Game creators can do whatever they want, you know. They make the games, not you. It's only a representation anyway, you'd kill a baby in seconds if it wanted to go against you, wouldn't you?
> **Hell no! What kind of-? I may be the Dark Lord, but even *I* have morals!**
- I guess that explains why you haven't killed me yet.
> **I'll only kill you if you're a good person, from which I can see, isn't the case**
- Shall I continue the game? I'll replay the Dark Lord battle, to show you what I meant earlier.
> **Oh, alright. I'm taking you to Hell afterwards, though. It does get a bit lonely there, and your nonsense intrigues me. You said you had no friends, so it doesn't matter, does it?**
- Guess not, being the prince of Hell would be quite fun
> **Whoa, I never said you're becoming the Prince! You've gotta earn that!**
- Don't worry. Here it is
*Final boss battle begins*
> **Wha-? That doesn't look anything *like* me! Do these people even know what I look like!? I don't have ugly goat legs like that!**
____________
That was my first go, and I'm not too sure how I feel about that. I hope you like it! | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The basement is dark, the only light is provided by the candles that are placed precisely at each point on the circle. Jacob finishes the incantation and stares at the center of the circle watching as a demon slowly rises through the floor. First, he sees the horns. Two on either side of the demon's head, slightly curled at the ends. Next is the demon's head. His eyes are closed and a single fang protrudes from his mouth. With each breath smoke is exhaled from him, filling the basement with the aroma of what reminded Jacob of a volcano.
Jacob sits down in a chair and puts his feet up on the chessboard, careful not to knock any of the pieces over. He leans in the chair and lets out a bored sigh.
"This is taking forever." He says to himself.
At last the demon stops. His eyelids shoot open revealing his red irises. They are not just red, they flicker and change to an orange and yellow periodically like they were fire themselves.
"I AM DRAKUS! LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD! WHAT DOES A MERE HUMAN LIKE YOU WANT WITH ME!" His voices booms, hot spit flying everywhere with each syllable spoken.
Jacob absentmindedly wipes the spit from his face and looks at Drakus, " I moved here a couple months ago and no one seems interested in being my friend."
Drakus lets out what seems to be a laugh, but it sounds more like a low rumble. Kind of what you hear before a strong earthquake hits. "And what do you think you would have accomplished by summoning me, human?"
"I dunno." Jacob shrugs and motions towards the chessboard. "I was hoping you would play a game of chess with me."
"Let me get this straight." Drakus scratches his head. "You summon the most powerful demon in the world and you want to play... chess?"
"Or checkers. I'm fine with both." Says Jacob.
"Wouldn't you rather start a war?" Drakus suggests.
"Nah." Jacob scratches the inside of his ear, seeming uninterested.
"How about we spread a plague?"
"Seems boring."
"Start the apocalypse?"
"Sounds messy."
"Possession?"
"Too much work."
Drakus sighs and takes his seat across from Jacob. Jacob shifts and sits up and makes the first move.
"I'm beginning to see why you have no friends." Says Drakus, moving his first pawn forward.
| It's lonely at the top. I've managed to conquer all of civilization, I've ground my enemies into dust under my heel. And yet sometimes the screams echoing down the halls of my torture chambers barely manages to crack my despair. My officers are of course unaware, I try to put on a brave face for them lest they see weakness and plot an insurrection. They're good men, I've trained them well. The many courtesans I keep in my harem only serve my baser needs, it's not like I can confide in a whore. That's the reason I sent my mother to work a galaxy away in a labor camp. I wonder if she's still alive? It has been awhile since I've cared. Blasted women could never see my greatness. Mother even called me a monster, a vile fiend. When she compared me to my idol the demon Panapocalypto I took it as a compliment even though I knew it was not intended as such. In fact, it has become clear that Panapocalypto must be awoken so that I have an equal, someone with whom to share the empire I've built.
...
It has been several weeks since I ordered the coven to work with a battalion of my loyal soldiers to make way for Panapocalypto. I set aside a nice quiet galaxy for him, fully stocked with pathetic weaklings to satiate his hunger upon awakening. The ritual should be complete within the hour. I'm giddy with anticipation.
...
Panapocalypto has been awoken. I could feel a chill and a dim settle on the universe signifying his arrival. I have stationed myself on my flagship just outside his new home. If all goes as planned the psychic beacons my men placed will draw him to this location. As I await his presence I pace fervently throughout the ornate observation lounge.
...
He has arrived. Shields are at maximum but weapons systems have been disabled. I have studied him, I know his nature. He would devour this ship if I gave him the chance but I don't wish to appear hostile. Using the ships computer I attempt to transfer a psychic link between him and I. It appears to be established...
"**ARE YOU THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY AWAKENING AND TRANSPORT?**"
What I can only assume to be his voice echoes through my mind. Even with my strength it is almost more than I can handle.
"Indeed I am." I respond diplomatically "I trust that you are satiated by my humble offering?"
"**WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF MY BEING HERE?**"
I had expected this question. I knew the answer, I had practiced it myriad times. It's a reasonable question, after all. Summoning the presence that I used to force Kings and Nobles to submit to my will I responded.
"I have brought you here to rule with me over this domain. I drew inspiration from your past, in a way you are responsible for all that I created so this is as much yours as it is mine."
The demon appeared to contemplate this. Seconds passed before he responded but it felt more like eons.
"**Tell me more. Tell me about this domain, I have been asleep long and have missed much of your worlds history. I have still not decided if I shall spare you so don't bore me!**"
And so we communicated. I spelled out the grand history which he had missed, the centuries of bloodshed and violence which ultimately culminated in my ruling sparing no small detail. It was by far the most cathartic release I'd ever known. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | I sat alone, bathed in the warm candlelight. That night was the night, the one I had been preparing myself for year after year. Everything was finally in its proper place, and not without great effort. I went through everything one last time, concentrating with all my might to bring back every little detail to the front of my mind. The countless days spent flipping through page after page, filling myself to the brim with untold knowledge. Everything had to be perfect, I only had one chance.
"No mistakes. Not this time." This was the only thought in my head as I double and triple checked the items I had prepared. Thousands, maybe even tens of thousands, of dollars spent on everything before me. I took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the hot air swirling around me. The burning wax of the candle mixing with the scent of the meat I had prepared for tribute. It smelt sweet, almost sickeningly so.
"No Mistakes. Not this time." The thought echoed through my mind again, this time a statement instead of a command. My preparations WERE complete. I opened the ancient tome on the table in front of me and ran my fingers across the runes, relishing in the rough texture. As I began to speak the ritual prayer aloud, the characters on the page glowed one after another, following my chant. After a few seconds they flew of the page, swirling around me like fireflies. It felt like an eternity was passing by, as though Chronos himself was giving me ample time to make a mistake. Not today. Today he would come. I spoke his name, the final word of the prayer.
"Tzel'kren!" My voice exploded with power, and the world itself shuddered around me. The earth below me shook in fear. The sky covered itself in thick clouds, as though to cover the eyes of God. The wind ran in all directions, making it hard to breath, but nothing I couldn't handle. A year and a half in the Himalayas searching for the manuscript in my hands had prepared me for more than this.
That was when I saw it, His hand tearing through the sigil I had prepared for Him. It was twisted and gnarled, fingers sprouting from it in every direction almost at random. The fingers themselves followed a similar pattern, the number and direction of His joints seemingly decided with no obvious logical pattern. His arm continued to His first elbow, socketed within was a surprisingly human eye twitching wildly, scanning every inch of its surroundings. Five more of these joints followed, with two more entire arms after them. His arms slithered through the air with an otherworldly grace, guiding his hands to the ground in a mesmerizing spiral. As his fingers took root in the earth the wind picked up violently before quickly falling still again. The Earth's wail sent shivers down my spine. Whether it was anticipation or some sort of primal fear I may never know. His voice began to echo through my mind as his head arose from the void. He spoke in a language I had never heard before, but I understood every word.
"I AM THE SHADOW IN THE NIGHT. I AM THE VOID BETWEEN THE STARS. I AM THE NIGHTMARE OF THE GODS." His eyeless visage rose before me, his head encased is something resembling porcelain or bone, His writing flesh peeking out from the spaces between the individual plates.
"I AM ALL THAT EVER WAS. I AM ALL THAT IS. I AM ALL THAT WILL EVER BE." His body rose up, the source of his arms finally revealing itself, nestling themselves between the blindingly white plates that continued to His waist. They were less solid here, cracks spread from where his arms appeared to have broken out from beneath them. Each piece slid around his torso slowly, like the plates of the earth. His flesh underneath flowed like magma, each sinew twisting endlessly in a way that was difficult to comprehend.
"I AM THE BUTCHER OF TRUTH. I AM THE UNRAVELER OF TIME. I AM THE DEVOURER OF HOPE." The twisting underneath His plates continued downward, each sinew growing larger and becoming one of a mass of tendrils spinning endlessly beneath him. Each one reached out from his portal and grabbed its edge, forcing it closed. There he stood, if that's even the correct word to describe it, before me. I could see the candle in front of me reflecting off of His shining face. I could see all of his eyes spin to look at me. I made an effort to meet them, but after a difficulty in deciding which one to look at specifically I made the choice to look him in his "face." I could see my eyes, shining in the candlelight, in His reflection. I felt like this was a reasonable compromise.
"I AM TZEL'KREN! WHAT COMPELS YOU TO SPEAK MY NAME, WORM!? WHAT DO YOU DARE ASK OF ME?!" He bellowed into my mind, blowing my own thoughts away with the force of His voice. I tried to speak.
"Hi, my name is Jo-" My voice cracked on the first syllable of my name. Shit. Terrible first impression. I attempted to compose myself, coughing loudly to clear my throat before making a second attempt.
"Hello, my name is Joshua. Nice to meet you!" I shifted a bit in my chair as I spoke, nervousness perhaps.
"Um, yeah, so, uh...." I drifted off a bit, before looking at what I had prepared on the table in front of me. Two bottles of wine standing tall on the table.
"Oh yeah! Do you prefer Cabernet or Chardonnay?" His head twisted to the side slightly upon hearing that. Disappointment maybe?
"Oh I also have Pinot Grigio too. Yeah you seem like a Pinot sort of guy, ha, yeah. For sure." I got about halfway through a fist tap to his shoulder before pulling my hand back awkwardly. Way too friendly, that would have been super weird. I decided to wait until after the wine. I got up from my chair, my knees bumping the table on my way up knocking over one of the glasses. Lucky I hadn't poured any wine yet. So stupid. The ritual went so well too, I couldn't afford to be a klutz now. I needed to pull it together, this was the real deal.
"I DON'T... WHAT?! I AM TZEL'KREN! I AM THE UNMAKER!"
"Well how about you unmake frown and make it right on upside down." I giggled quietly at my joke until I realized it wasn't even even a joke. Also He didn't even really have a mouth, so it didn't even make any sense. That was fucking retarded, in hindsight. I focused on resetting the table before worrying about it, he probably didn't even notice how stupid it was anyway. "Oh, how rude of me. Have a seat." I pulled out the chair I had prepared on His side of the table. He stared at me silently for a moment before slithering over the chair, consuming it within the endless thresher that was his lower body. The chair didn't even stand a chance.
"DO YOU NOT FEAR ME? I DON'T UNDERSTAND." His rear arm reached down and picked up the steak I had prepared just an hour earlier. I really hoped it hadn't gone cold in the time it took Him to rise from the hole to the strange forever he tore in the fabric of space and time. "What even is this?" His voice softened now, no longer tearing through my mind with each word. Now was my chance, I had to show him I was cool too.
"Oh that's good stuff," I set his wine glass back upright next to the plate I had set out. The earlier accident with the table had knocked the silverware all out of order. I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed considering how many etiquette books I had bought to make sure I had all the forks in the right order. He seemed like a finger-food sort of guy though, considering he just grabbed it straight from the plate, so I didn't let it bother me. "100% Kobe beef. Imported straight from Japan. Um. Oh, I got some nice sauce for it too." I pointed towards the bottle on the center of the table, next to the candelabra and opposite the wine.
-Continued as reply.-
| It's lonely at the top. I've managed to conquer all of civilization, I've ground my enemies into dust under my heel. And yet sometimes the screams echoing down the halls of my torture chambers barely manages to crack my despair. My officers are of course unaware, I try to put on a brave face for them lest they see weakness and plot an insurrection. They're good men, I've trained them well. The many courtesans I keep in my harem only serve my baser needs, it's not like I can confide in a whore. That's the reason I sent my mother to work a galaxy away in a labor camp. I wonder if she's still alive? It has been awhile since I've cared. Blasted women could never see my greatness. Mother even called me a monster, a vile fiend. When she compared me to my idol the demon Panapocalypto I took it as a compliment even though I knew it was not intended as such. In fact, it has become clear that Panapocalypto must be awoken so that I have an equal, someone with whom to share the empire I've built.
...
It has been several weeks since I ordered the coven to work with a battalion of my loyal soldiers to make way for Panapocalypto. I set aside a nice quiet galaxy for him, fully stocked with pathetic weaklings to satiate his hunger upon awakening. The ritual should be complete within the hour. I'm giddy with anticipation.
...
Panapocalypto has been awoken. I could feel a chill and a dim settle on the universe signifying his arrival. I have stationed myself on my flagship just outside his new home. If all goes as planned the psychic beacons my men placed will draw him to this location. As I await his presence I pace fervently throughout the ornate observation lounge.
...
He has arrived. Shields are at maximum but weapons systems have been disabled. I have studied him, I know his nature. He would devour this ship if I gave him the chance but I don't wish to appear hostile. Using the ships computer I attempt to transfer a psychic link between him and I. It appears to be established...
"**ARE YOU THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY AWAKENING AND TRANSPORT?**"
What I can only assume to be his voice echoes through my mind. Even with my strength it is almost more than I can handle.
"Indeed I am." I respond diplomatically "I trust that you are satiated by my humble offering?"
"**WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF MY BEING HERE?**"
I had expected this question. I knew the answer, I had practiced it myriad times. It's a reasonable question, after all. Summoning the presence that I used to force Kings and Nobles to submit to my will I responded.
"I have brought you here to rule with me over this domain. I drew inspiration from your past, in a way you are responsible for all that I created so this is as much yours as it is mine."
The demon appeared to contemplate this. Seconds passed before he responded but it felt more like eons.
"**Tell me more. Tell me about this domain, I have been asleep long and have missed much of your worlds history. I have still not decided if I shall spare you so don't bore me!**"
And so we communicated. I spelled out the grand history which he had missed, the centuries of bloodshed and violence which ultimately culminated in my ruling sparing no small detail. It was by far the most cathartic release I'd ever known. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "Well son of a bitch, it finally worked" Leo muttered under his breath as the carefully drawn runes on the floor began to glow in shifting shades of iridescent blue and red. His marked pessimism had only grown stronger with age, and as the void wretched itself open, and two grisly claws began to emerge from the nether, he thought to himself this will be a fitting end to his career as a summoner. His greatest achievement, would go unrecorded and unremembered.
It was not always so for Leo. There was a time in his life, where this summoning would have been celebrated as a grand display of his prowess. Leo's family was killed by the invading hordes from the East when he was young. At 12, he started practicing black magic as a student under a Dark Magician in the Imperial Army, who had taken to adopting orphaned youngsters who showed proficiency. His goal was to groom these children to serve as battle mages.
Leo instantly showed an affinity for summoning. His abilities quickly surpassed those of his peers. Soon he was enlisted as a battle mage, and sent out with a regiment of soldiers. With all the confidence in this world and the next, Leo charged into battle time and time again with these men. However, several mistakes were made. These were not the fault of Leo directly. Battle is unpredictable to say the least. The creatures Leo summoned were either inappropriate for the situation at hand, or were not powerful enough to route the enemy forces.
Word of these failures spread, and the command of the Imperial Army was not one to give second, let alone third, chances. Soon Leo's days as a battle mage were over. For the rest of his career, he was relegated to menial duties such as enchanting cursed arrows for the archers. Typical black magic apprentice work. Leo always wondered though, what life would been like had he been a successful summoner. He wondered about it until this very day, which he was suddenly snapped back to.
The demon, now fully materialized from the void, spoke to Leo. The demon obviously didn't make any real sound, but Leo could hear the voice audibly in his head. It could only be described as a young boy's voice and an old man's voice speaking simultaneously.
"Why have you brought me here?" The demon whispered into the back of his mind. Leo froze, then responded. "Honestly?"
The demon roared in Leo's mind "I will destroy you in a moment if you lie." The demon began to move. It's movements belied the ferocious tone it had just taken with it's summoner. It slowly rose from it's knees in front of the rift to the void, and stood up to reveal it's bipedal humanoid form. It appeared as only the darkest shadow, no other details could be seen.
Leo, for the first time in this whole ordeal, began to feel a tinge of fear. He responded carefully. "I summoned you, for no other reason, than to see if I could." He slowly looked down at this spell book, averting his eyes from the demon.
"You old fool!" the demon hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"I am aware" Leo responded, without lifting his gaze.
"Then you know I am endless torment! I am the plague and the purge. My many names are written in blood across the battlefields of this plane. You will sacrifice greatly for bringing me here wizard! You will now know the *true* meaning of loss and sorrow!"
"I only have my life" Leo responded, almost interrupting the demon from waxing poetic. "When I attempted the summoning, I knew my life would most likely be forfeit. I have accepted that. I do not desire to love longer as it is."
In the blink of an eye, The demon closed the 15 meter gap between it and Leo. It now had it's hand around Leo's throat, and it's "face" was inches from Leo's own. The demon snarled, as it searched Leo's soul and saw what he had said was true.
"Your miserable life means nothing to me" the demon said. "I will harvest all you hold dear. I will reap your family, your closest friends, and hang them in my storehouse. There they will suffer for eternity, as a profane reminder as to the consequences of a mortal beckoning me forth."
"Friends, Family?" Leo said somberly. "They are all gone. Have been for quite some time. I am alone in this world. I have nothing, I have no one. I summoned you demon, simply to remember what it's like to speak to another being. There was a famine last year, and everyone headed south to find food. I remained behind, as I had no one to travel with. I think I may be the last man in the north. If I am not, I have yet to see another one. Anyway, this spring, my crops failed. Soon I will be out of food. I am too old and my health is too poor to try and complete the journey south now. No, I am well aware of my fate. I brought you here, just to speak to someone If only for one last time."
The demon was absolutely motionless. It stared into Leo's eyes for what seemed like hours but was only a few moments. It searched his soul completely, and found everything he said to be true.
In a flash, the demon drew a sword from it's back. The smell of burning flesh and sulfur instantly filled the room. It slashed at Leo at an almost inperceivable speed. The blade avoided killing him by millimeters. Instead, it left a gash on his left cheek, which instantly cauterized and closed. The slash also opened a new rift back into the void.
"No mortal, you will suffer greatly" The demon spoke directly into Leo's mind. "Congratulations wizard, you are the only human who has ever been in my presence and lived." And with that, the demon stepped back into the void, and vanished.
Leo's old heart was close to failure it had been beating so hard. Slowly, he regained his breath, and sat down. What had he just done? He had just completed summoning the most powerful being he had ever summoned in his entire life. Possibly the greatest summoning in the history of the discipline! He could hardly believe what had just happened.
Perhaps he was worth something after all! Leo's mind began to work in a way it had not in many years. Maybe he was important! If his spirit was powerful enough to save him from the lord of the void, maybe he would stand a chance leaving this God forsaken farm and heading south. South to people. South to civilization.
Leo immediately grabbed his cloak and his staff. He would summon a lightning horse and be off to the south. No use sitting here any longer, only death awaited him. But when he unbarred the door to his cabin, it would not budge. Frantically he heaved with his whole body weight, but the door would not open. Leo began screaming and clawing at the timber panel, but nonetheless, it would not give way.
Finally, he tried casting a fire spell on the door, hoping to kick away the cinders and escape before the entire cabin burned. But as he finished the incantation, instead the mark on his cheek simply began to glow. The spell itself never materializing. The harder he tried to cast his magic, the greater the glow from his wound. He had been silenced. And he remained in that cabin, alone, for the rest of time.
| It's lonely at the top. I've managed to conquer all of civilization, I've ground my enemies into dust under my heel. And yet sometimes the screams echoing down the halls of my torture chambers barely manages to crack my despair. My officers are of course unaware, I try to put on a brave face for them lest they see weakness and plot an insurrection. They're good men, I've trained them well. The many courtesans I keep in my harem only serve my baser needs, it's not like I can confide in a whore. That's the reason I sent my mother to work a galaxy away in a labor camp. I wonder if she's still alive? It has been awhile since I've cared. Blasted women could never see my greatness. Mother even called me a monster, a vile fiend. When she compared me to my idol the demon Panapocalypto I took it as a compliment even though I knew it was not intended as such. In fact, it has become clear that Panapocalypto must be awoken so that I have an equal, someone with whom to share the empire I've built.
...
It has been several weeks since I ordered the coven to work with a battalion of my loyal soldiers to make way for Panapocalypto. I set aside a nice quiet galaxy for him, fully stocked with pathetic weaklings to satiate his hunger upon awakening. The ritual should be complete within the hour. I'm giddy with anticipation.
...
Panapocalypto has been awoken. I could feel a chill and a dim settle on the universe signifying his arrival. I have stationed myself on my flagship just outside his new home. If all goes as planned the psychic beacons my men placed will draw him to this location. As I await his presence I pace fervently throughout the ornate observation lounge.
...
He has arrived. Shields are at maximum but weapons systems have been disabled. I have studied him, I know his nature. He would devour this ship if I gave him the chance but I don't wish to appear hostile. Using the ships computer I attempt to transfer a psychic link between him and I. It appears to be established...
"**ARE YOU THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY AWAKENING AND TRANSPORT?**"
What I can only assume to be his voice echoes through my mind. Even with my strength it is almost more than I can handle.
"Indeed I am." I respond diplomatically "I trust that you are satiated by my humble offering?"
"**WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF MY BEING HERE?**"
I had expected this question. I knew the answer, I had practiced it myriad times. It's a reasonable question, after all. Summoning the presence that I used to force Kings and Nobles to submit to my will I responded.
"I have brought you here to rule with me over this domain. I drew inspiration from your past, in a way you are responsible for all that I created so this is as much yours as it is mine."
The demon appeared to contemplate this. Seconds passed before he responded but it felt more like eons.
"**Tell me more. Tell me about this domain, I have been asleep long and have missed much of your worlds history. I have still not decided if I shall spare you so don't bore me!**"
And so we communicated. I spelled out the grand history which he had missed, the centuries of bloodshed and violence which ultimately culminated in my ruling sparing no small detail. It was by far the most cathartic release I'd ever known. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The bones of a black cat, graveyard dirt and an old polaroid of himself. An odd list of ingredients, diligently placed inside an old pine box. The crossroads were bathed in the glow of a crescent moon, the yarrow flowers reflecting its soft light. He was ready.
"Et ad congregandum...eos coram me" he muttered, the ancient words of a long dead language catching slightly in his throat. A pause. A deep breath and...nothing.
"Nothing...All this for nothing...I can't do anything right..." He stared up at the moon, wondering if it was as lonely as he was. Then something out the corner of his eye...
"Hello boys...oh. Wait. You're not moose. And you're far too ugly to be tinkerbell. Who in hell are you sunshine and why did you summon me?"
A tickle at the back of his throat, he forced the words out.
"My names Theodore. You must be the King of Hell."
"My my aren't we clever. The name's Crowley, you can cut all that 'King of Hell' crap. Just tell me what you want. You know I don't usually handle these kind of deals personally anymore...but well. A soul's a soul I guess. What'll be. Riches? Beauty? A new Lamborghini with matching supermodel? Well. Spit it out."
"I urr...I don't want any of that."
"Well I cant make anyone fall in love with you. Aladdin rules. Besides you've had one two many falls from the ugly tree...even I'm not that cruel."
"No I don't want love!" He shouted, startling the demon. "I just want a friend!"
Crowley stood motionless for half a second, then burst out laughing.
"A friend" he spat "a bloody friend. You have got to me kidding me. You summoned me, the most ruthless and bloodthirsty demon that has ever walked the earth to make a bloody friend?"
"You don't look so evil. Kinda short actually." Theodore countered.
"And you wonder why you're alone. Enough of this. Im outta here. You're own your own kiddo. There's a dive bar two miles that way" he said, thumb jerked over his shoulder "Summon me again and I'll jam a straw into your skull and drink you like a bloody Mary. Extra garlicky I imagine. You wants friends? Here's some free advice. Take a shower once in a while. And shave that...well I can't exactly call it a beard can I...eugh...humans." He clicked his fingers and...nothing.
Theodore smiled and sat himself down cross-legged on the ground. Crowley, incredulous, peered down, noticing for the first time the enormous devil's trap that Theodore had painted some minutes before.
"Now listen here you little runt. I don't know what you know about me but when I'm done with you you'll know more than anyone would want to know about knowing anything. Capiche?! Let me out NOW."
"Do you like Narwhals? I like Narwhals. They're kinda like the unicorns of the sea...were unicorns ever a real thing by the way? There's this cartoon on Youtube about a unicorn. It's great. Did you ever see that? Do they have Youtube in Hell? How do you watch anime if you don't have youtube? Torrents? Do you like anime-"
"I'm going to rip you a cornucopia of orifices you know that?!"
Theodore went on oblivious. | It's lonely at the top. I've managed to conquer all of civilization, I've ground my enemies into dust under my heel. And yet sometimes the screams echoing down the halls of my torture chambers barely manages to crack my despair. My officers are of course unaware, I try to put on a brave face for them lest they see weakness and plot an insurrection. They're good men, I've trained them well. The many courtesans I keep in my harem only serve my baser needs, it's not like I can confide in a whore. That's the reason I sent my mother to work a galaxy away in a labor camp. I wonder if she's still alive? It has been awhile since I've cared. Blasted women could never see my greatness. Mother even called me a monster, a vile fiend. When she compared me to my idol the demon Panapocalypto I took it as a compliment even though I knew it was not intended as such. In fact, it has become clear that Panapocalypto must be awoken so that I have an equal, someone with whom to share the empire I've built.
...
It has been several weeks since I ordered the coven to work with a battalion of my loyal soldiers to make way for Panapocalypto. I set aside a nice quiet galaxy for him, fully stocked with pathetic weaklings to satiate his hunger upon awakening. The ritual should be complete within the hour. I'm giddy with anticipation.
...
Panapocalypto has been awoken. I could feel a chill and a dim settle on the universe signifying his arrival. I have stationed myself on my flagship just outside his new home. If all goes as planned the psychic beacons my men placed will draw him to this location. As I await his presence I pace fervently throughout the ornate observation lounge.
...
He has arrived. Shields are at maximum but weapons systems have been disabled. I have studied him, I know his nature. He would devour this ship if I gave him the chance but I don't wish to appear hostile. Using the ships computer I attempt to transfer a psychic link between him and I. It appears to be established...
"**ARE YOU THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY AWAKENING AND TRANSPORT?**"
What I can only assume to be his voice echoes through my mind. Even with my strength it is almost more than I can handle.
"Indeed I am." I respond diplomatically "I trust that you are satiated by my humble offering?"
"**WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF MY BEING HERE?**"
I had expected this question. I knew the answer, I had practiced it myriad times. It's a reasonable question, after all. Summoning the presence that I used to force Kings and Nobles to submit to my will I responded.
"I have brought you here to rule with me over this domain. I drew inspiration from your past, in a way you are responsible for all that I created so this is as much yours as it is mine."
The demon appeared to contemplate this. Seconds passed before he responded but it felt more like eons.
"**Tell me more. Tell me about this domain, I have been asleep long and have missed much of your worlds history. I have still not decided if I shall spare you so don't bore me!**"
And so we communicated. I spelled out the grand history which he had missed, the centuries of bloodshed and violence which ultimately culminated in my ruling sparing no small detail. It was by far the most cathartic release I'd ever known. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | There he was. I still couldn't believe it.
A colossal being, he stood towering over me, a giant, his legs as thick as trunks and as long as I was tall. His flesh was made of a thick black mist, wisps of it circled him, shrouding him, concealing him. He looked almost like he was part of the darkness that filled the small, worn-down room.
The most striking part of him was his eyes. Eyes that made him look human. It wasn't really the eyes themselves, but more of the look they gave. A look of anger, a look of despair, a look of longing, a look of hope. I knew that look, it was the look I put on everyday. His eyes not only looked into my soul, but tugged at it, tearing it, bit by bit.
A year ago today I lost all that I had held dear to me in this world. My son's plane crashed over the Atlantic Ocean, he was on his way home to visit me. His mother when she heard the news killed herself in grief and on the same day my mother died of cancer, going off to join my father in a land far far away.
I was never the same after that. That incident turned me into the man I am today, and it's what brought him here.
Him. Feared by all. He stalks each and every one of us, follows us through our lives. Those who are fast, escape, but only for a while. Sooner or later he catches up to us, and when he does, he hits us right where it hurts. No one liked him, no one wanted him. He was powerful, bringing even the strongest of men to their knees in tears.
And today I was to meet him, and he was to be my friend.
I took his cold hand in mine, the mist started crawling up my arm, it stung, but it would not release itself.
I looked at him. He looked at me.
My only friend, and his name was Loneliness. | It's lonely at the top. I've managed to conquer all of civilization, I've ground my enemies into dust under my heel. And yet sometimes the screams echoing down the halls of my torture chambers barely manages to crack my despair. My officers are of course unaware, I try to put on a brave face for them lest they see weakness and plot an insurrection. They're good men, I've trained them well. The many courtesans I keep in my harem only serve my baser needs, it's not like I can confide in a whore. That's the reason I sent my mother to work a galaxy away in a labor camp. I wonder if she's still alive? It has been awhile since I've cared. Blasted women could never see my greatness. Mother even called me a monster, a vile fiend. When she compared me to my idol the demon Panapocalypto I took it as a compliment even though I knew it was not intended as such. In fact, it has become clear that Panapocalypto must be awoken so that I have an equal, someone with whom to share the empire I've built.
...
It has been several weeks since I ordered the coven to work with a battalion of my loyal soldiers to make way for Panapocalypto. I set aside a nice quiet galaxy for him, fully stocked with pathetic weaklings to satiate his hunger upon awakening. The ritual should be complete within the hour. I'm giddy with anticipation.
...
Panapocalypto has been awoken. I could feel a chill and a dim settle on the universe signifying his arrival. I have stationed myself on my flagship just outside his new home. If all goes as planned the psychic beacons my men placed will draw him to this location. As I await his presence I pace fervently throughout the ornate observation lounge.
...
He has arrived. Shields are at maximum but weapons systems have been disabled. I have studied him, I know his nature. He would devour this ship if I gave him the chance but I don't wish to appear hostile. Using the ships computer I attempt to transfer a psychic link between him and I. It appears to be established...
"**ARE YOU THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY AWAKENING AND TRANSPORT?**"
What I can only assume to be his voice echoes through my mind. Even with my strength it is almost more than I can handle.
"Indeed I am." I respond diplomatically "I trust that you are satiated by my humble offering?"
"**WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF MY BEING HERE?**"
I had expected this question. I knew the answer, I had practiced it myriad times. It's a reasonable question, after all. Summoning the presence that I used to force Kings and Nobles to submit to my will I responded.
"I have brought you here to rule with me over this domain. I drew inspiration from your past, in a way you are responsible for all that I created so this is as much yours as it is mine."
The demon appeared to contemplate this. Seconds passed before he responded but it felt more like eons.
"**Tell me more. Tell me about this domain, I have been asleep long and have missed much of your worlds history. I have still not decided if I shall spare you so don't bore me!**"
And so we communicated. I spelled out the grand history which he had missed, the centuries of bloodshed and violence which ultimately culminated in my ruling sparing no small detail. It was by far the most cathartic release I'd ever known. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | “More Nachos Azgal?” said Bryan as he opened the microwave door. Azgal pulled down his shades and in a state of nocturnal awareness said “Hell yeah” as Bryan smothered the tortilla chips in cheese. The ding of the microwave triggered Azgal to scramble to the kitchen where he pushed Bryan aside and crammed the nachos down his throat, plate and all.
“Damn Azgal, you know how to party” Azgal coughed up a few pieces of glass dish and then shambled back over to the couch that was covered in food crumbs and energy drink stains. “Silence mortal, I must acquire more souls”. Bryan sat down on the arm of the couch and poked his head over to the screen “You mean kills? Those are kills and they don’t actually count and soul reaping.”
Azgal slammed his fists down upon the controller and let out a hellfire from his mouth onto the television. “This digital amusement no longer serves me purpose. I believe that it is time we ordered more of that circular meat disk.”
Bryan pulled out his wallet and opened it to watch the fall of a five-dollar bill. “Sorry bud, we don’t have enough for pizza.”
Azgal cracked his knuckles and then formed his hands into the shape of a pyramid, placing them in front of himself “You mortals are so weak with your inter dimensional rituals. Allow me.”
A black orb appeared in front of him, right above the coffee table. Screams could be heard coming from its deepest depths and Azgal opened his hands further apart and the orb began to grow. Hundreds of pizzas came flying from the portal and they landed perfectly on the counters and tables, covered in only small of amounts of blood and hell fire.
Bryan looked around the room and slapped Azgal on the back “Nice one man. You are definitely not paying for booze tonight.”
Azgal ravaged through the boxes of pizza and stopped to look over at Bryan “Does this gathering require exotic dancers for our entertainment?”
“Hell yeah man,” screamed Bryan as he took his shirt off in party fashion.
Another black portal opened up before Azgal and what happened afterwards was known as the single greatest party in the entire universe. Sure, it left millions dead and might have destroyed a continent or two but in the grander scheme of things it was the best night of Bryan’s life.
| It's lonely at the top. I've managed to conquer all of civilization, I've ground my enemies into dust under my heel. And yet sometimes the screams echoing down the halls of my torture chambers barely manages to crack my despair. My officers are of course unaware, I try to put on a brave face for them lest they see weakness and plot an insurrection. They're good men, I've trained them well. The many courtesans I keep in my harem only serve my baser needs, it's not like I can confide in a whore. That's the reason I sent my mother to work a galaxy away in a labor camp. I wonder if she's still alive? It has been awhile since I've cared. Blasted women could never see my greatness. Mother even called me a monster, a vile fiend. When she compared me to my idol the demon Panapocalypto I took it as a compliment even though I knew it was not intended as such. In fact, it has become clear that Panapocalypto must be awoken so that I have an equal, someone with whom to share the empire I've built.
...
It has been several weeks since I ordered the coven to work with a battalion of my loyal soldiers to make way for Panapocalypto. I set aside a nice quiet galaxy for him, fully stocked with pathetic weaklings to satiate his hunger upon awakening. The ritual should be complete within the hour. I'm giddy with anticipation.
...
Panapocalypto has been awoken. I could feel a chill and a dim settle on the universe signifying his arrival. I have stationed myself on my flagship just outside his new home. If all goes as planned the psychic beacons my men placed will draw him to this location. As I await his presence I pace fervently throughout the ornate observation lounge.
...
He has arrived. Shields are at maximum but weapons systems have been disabled. I have studied him, I know his nature. He would devour this ship if I gave him the chance but I don't wish to appear hostile. Using the ships computer I attempt to transfer a psychic link between him and I. It appears to be established...
"**ARE YOU THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY AWAKENING AND TRANSPORT?**"
What I can only assume to be his voice echoes through my mind. Even with my strength it is almost more than I can handle.
"Indeed I am." I respond diplomatically "I trust that you are satiated by my humble offering?"
"**WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF MY BEING HERE?**"
I had expected this question. I knew the answer, I had practiced it myriad times. It's a reasonable question, after all. Summoning the presence that I used to force Kings and Nobles to submit to my will I responded.
"I have brought you here to rule with me over this domain. I drew inspiration from your past, in a way you are responsible for all that I created so this is as much yours as it is mine."
The demon appeared to contemplate this. Seconds passed before he responded but it felt more like eons.
"**Tell me more. Tell me about this domain, I have been asleep long and have missed much of your worlds history. I have still not decided if I shall spare you so don't bore me!**"
And so we communicated. I spelled out the grand history which he had missed, the centuries of bloodshed and violence which ultimately culminated in my ruling sparing no small detail. It was by far the most cathartic release I'd ever known. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Mitchell stared nervously at the pentagram on his bedroom floor. he made sure everything was perfect for his new visitor. After arranging all the materials, Mitchell stood on the northernmost corner and began reciting the incantation. The floor beneath him twisted and morphed into a fiery black pit. From the pit rose an enormous beast. He towered over Mitchell with his giant muscles bulging out of his skin. His skin was like fire. He had a jutted chin and his mouth was twisted into a wicked smile.
"SPEAK, PUNY MORTAL. IT IS I BEEZLEBUB, RULER OF THE DAMNED AND LIEUTENANT OF LUCIFER, HIMSELF"
"Hello, Beezlebub, I'm Mitchell, but you can call me Mitch".
"WRETCHED HUMAN, DO NOT WASTE MY TIME! WHY HAST THOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just wanted to, you know, hangout."
"I CAN GRANT YOU ANYTHING Y-. Wait, What?"
"I just wanted to hangout with you, get to know you."
"I HAVE NO TIME FOR SUCH THINGS. WHY HAVE YOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just told you. I want to spend some time with you. My dog recently died so now it's just me and I feel kinda lonely"
"SO IT IS FRIENDS YOU DESIRE? I CAN GIVE YOU AS MANY FRIENDS AS A PERSON COULD HAVE, BUT IT WILL BE FOR
A PRICE: YOUR SO-"
"I don't want to make a deal. I just want to spend some time with you"
"I WILL NOT WASTE MY TIME WITH THIS. I WILL SEE YOU ON JUDGEMENT DAY"
A column of smoke arose from Bezzlebub's feet until it engulfed him entirely. As the smoke cleared, Mitchell saw Beezlebub still there with a look of disappointment on his face.
"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!"
"The spell will keep you here until you do as I wish or the sun rises, and that's in about 5 hours."
"NOBODY, COULD POSSIBLY SUMMON I, BEEZLEBUB, FOR NO REASON"
"Well, Firstly, it's "me, Beezlebub" not I. Secondly, I summoned you here because I suspect that nobody has tried to be your friend for a long time."
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK SUCH THINGS, IGNORANT FOOL. I AM THE LIEUTENANT OF SATAN HIMSE- ugh, You're right. Satan and I used to be the best of friends. After we took over Hell collecting Human souls was just so easy that Lucifer and I spent most of our time together. I guess things started to change when the Buddha was born."
Beezlebub sat on Mitchell's bed and continued "It got worse when Jesus and Mohammed were born. With all those people telling others not to be evil, collecting souls became a full time job. Things got harder and harder as humanity advanced. I thought things would get better after WWI but Satan spent so much time with that mustachioed, Nazi shithead, that I thought he was Satan's new best friend."
Mitchell put his hand on Beezlebub's massive shoulder. "I get that", he said "I used to have two best friends, but they got jobs, and wives and kids, and we just kind of drifted apart. They moved on with their lives and I just ... fell behind"
"Beezlebub looked at Mitchell, "You know Mitch, you're the first person in a thousand years to just talk to me. If I'm stuck here lets hangout"
Mitchell's face lit up "Cool! So what do you like to do?"
"Do you like collecting the souls of the innocent?"
"No, do you like playing video games?"
"Yeah. Do you have any EA games?"
Mitchell asked "Yeah, why?"
Beezlebub pointed at his chest and proudly said "I'm the CEO of EA"
Mitchell laughed and said "I got Battlefield 4, Let's play."
The two played all night. For the first time in a longtime both of them felt truly happy. When the sun rose Mitchell looked worriedly at Beezlebub. Beezlebub said, "Don't worry I'll see you next Friday"
"Why?! Am I going to die"
Beezlebub laughed, "No because I get off work early on Friday and I want to spend it with a friend."
| It's lonely at the top. I've managed to conquer all of civilization, I've ground my enemies into dust under my heel. And yet sometimes the screams echoing down the halls of my torture chambers barely manages to crack my despair. My officers are of course unaware, I try to put on a brave face for them lest they see weakness and plot an insurrection. They're good men, I've trained them well. The many courtesans I keep in my harem only serve my baser needs, it's not like I can confide in a whore. That's the reason I sent my mother to work a galaxy away in a labor camp. I wonder if she's still alive? It has been awhile since I've cared. Blasted women could never see my greatness. Mother even called me a monster, a vile fiend. When she compared me to my idol the demon Panapocalypto I took it as a compliment even though I knew it was not intended as such. In fact, it has become clear that Panapocalypto must be awoken so that I have an equal, someone with whom to share the empire I've built.
...
It has been several weeks since I ordered the coven to work with a battalion of my loyal soldiers to make way for Panapocalypto. I set aside a nice quiet galaxy for him, fully stocked with pathetic weaklings to satiate his hunger upon awakening. The ritual should be complete within the hour. I'm giddy with anticipation.
...
Panapocalypto has been awoken. I could feel a chill and a dim settle on the universe signifying his arrival. I have stationed myself on my flagship just outside his new home. If all goes as planned the psychic beacons my men placed will draw him to this location. As I await his presence I pace fervently throughout the ornate observation lounge.
...
He has arrived. Shields are at maximum but weapons systems have been disabled. I have studied him, I know his nature. He would devour this ship if I gave him the chance but I don't wish to appear hostile. Using the ships computer I attempt to transfer a psychic link between him and I. It appears to be established...
"**ARE YOU THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY AWAKENING AND TRANSPORT?**"
What I can only assume to be his voice echoes through my mind. Even with my strength it is almost more than I can handle.
"Indeed I am." I respond diplomatically "I trust that you are satiated by my humble offering?"
"**WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF MY BEING HERE?**"
I had expected this question. I knew the answer, I had practiced it myriad times. It's a reasonable question, after all. Summoning the presence that I used to force Kings and Nobles to submit to my will I responded.
"I have brought you here to rule with me over this domain. I drew inspiration from your past, in a way you are responsible for all that I created so this is as much yours as it is mine."
The demon appeared to contemplate this. Seconds passed before he responded but it felt more like eons.
"**Tell me more. Tell me about this domain, I have been asleep long and have missed much of your worlds history. I have still not decided if I shall spare you so don't bore me!**"
And so we communicated. I spelled out the grand history which he had missed, the centuries of bloodshed and violence which ultimately culminated in my ruling sparing no small detail. It was by far the most cathartic release I'd ever known. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The basement is dark, the only light is provided by the candles that are placed precisely at each point on the circle. Jacob finishes the incantation and stares at the center of the circle watching as a demon slowly rises through the floor. First, he sees the horns. Two on either side of the demon's head, slightly curled at the ends. Next is the demon's head. His eyes are closed and a single fang protrudes from his mouth. With each breath smoke is exhaled from him, filling the basement with the aroma of what reminded Jacob of a volcano.
Jacob sits down in a chair and puts his feet up on the chessboard, careful not to knock any of the pieces over. He leans in the chair and lets out a bored sigh.
"This is taking forever." He says to himself.
At last the demon stops. His eyelids shoot open revealing his red irises. They are not just red, they flicker and change to an orange and yellow periodically like they were fire themselves.
"I AM DRAKUS! LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD! WHAT DOES A MERE HUMAN LIKE YOU WANT WITH ME!" His voices booms, hot spit flying everywhere with each syllable spoken.
Jacob absentmindedly wipes the spit from his face and looks at Drakus, " I moved here a couple months ago and no one seems interested in being my friend."
Drakus lets out what seems to be a laugh, but it sounds more like a low rumble. Kind of what you hear before a strong earthquake hits. "And what do you think you would have accomplished by summoning me, human?"
"I dunno." Jacob shrugs and motions towards the chessboard. "I was hoping you would play a game of chess with me."
"Let me get this straight." Drakus scratches his head. "You summon the most powerful demon in the world and you want to play... chess?"
"Or checkers. I'm fine with both." Says Jacob.
"Wouldn't you rather start a war?" Drakus suggests.
"Nah." Jacob scratches the inside of his ear, seeming uninterested.
"How about we spread a plague?"
"Seems boring."
"Start the apocalypse?"
"Sounds messy."
"Possession?"
"Too much work."
Drakus sighs and takes his seat across from Jacob. Jacob shifts and sits up and makes the first move.
"I'm beginning to see why you have no friends." Says Drakus, moving his first pawn forward.
| Luna took out the homemade Ouija board she had been crafting for the past week. *Not the most conventional method of making friends...* she thought. She didn't have much choice, though. Her parents had divorced, her dad moving up into the reclusive mountains. This is where she was to spend her summer.
She was only sixteen, but had researched countless hours on the internet about Ouija boards, black magic, demons, etc. she was finally ready to begin.
Setting up the candles in the attic, she placed the makeshift board down and put the planchette above the G as the online guides suggest. After a few seconds of nothing, she moves it in a round motion. Finally, it starts to move.
*H-E-L-L-O*
"Hello. My name is Luna. What is yours?" She spoke excitedly, shocked it was working.
*Y-O-U-S-H-O-U-L-D-N-T-B-E-D-O-I-N-G-T-H-I-S-A-L-O-N-E-L-U-N-A*
"Why not?" She asked the board.
*Y-O-U-D-O-N-T-K-N-O-W-W-H-O-C-O-U-L-D-B-E-O-N-T-H-E-O-T-H-E-R-S-I-D-E*
Luna looked at the printouts she had brought with her. *Users may not get more than yes or no answers; this depends on the strength of the spirit. If the spirit seems very strong, it's best to move the planchette to GOODBYE as they could be dangerous.*
She started to move the planchette, but a force that took her by surprise refused to allow her to do it.
*W-A-I-T*
She hesitated... "W-what do you want?"
*T-O-T-A-L-K-T-O-Y-O-U*
She took her fingers off the board and sat there thinking, weighing the pros and cons of the situation, when the board shook. The planchette moved by itself, first in a figure eight pattern, and then it counted down from 9-0.
Everything was silent as Luna grabbed the papers, trying to find...*here it is*... She realized her mistake.
*Hello Luna.* A deep voice hisses.
"Who a-are you?" She shudders at the sudden cold in the attic. It must have dropped twenty degrees.
*Hush, child. I don't wish to frighten you. Like I said, I just want to talk.*
Luna looked around but could see nothing, "What do you want to talk about?"
A chuckle. *You. Me. Us.*
"..us?"
*Sweet Luna. I have been observing you. What do you think has been pulling you towards the occult? Who do you think had your parents name you Luna, the name of the Moon and representative of the night? I have been with you since your birth, and at the ripe age of sixteen, it is your chance to come join me.*
"W-what do you mean? I'm not going anywhere with you!" She growled, still looking around the room. *How old even is this demon creep,* she thought.
*I am only 19 in the body, Luna, and I would appreciate if you would stop with the name calling.* Suddenly the booming voice sounded tired and impatient.
"I'm sorry," she said, unsure why. "What do you want from me? Why me?"
*You're beautiful, and your pure spirit brings me joy. I would love to corrupt it.* Unbeknownst to her, Lucifer was walking around her, running his long fingers through her hair disguised as a whoosh of cold wind, feeding off the fear. She stayed silent. *All of the years of hardship you've endured, dear girl. You should never had had to go through that. Your uncle touching you... Your mom taking his side... Your dad leaving without his little princess. Why were you born into such a... Hell?*
"Don't talk about my uncle! I hate him! I hate him! And my mother too! What kind of mother would do that?!" She yelled to the nothingness. Then, quietly, "What kind of mother would do that?" She collapsed to the ground.
Lucifer held her in his lap, running his fingers through the soft black hair on her head and whispering in her ear, *You can get revenge on them all. We can, together. What do you have left in this world?*
She sat there, starting to feel the big arms around her, as silent and still as stone.
*You have an alcoholic mother-- a father who can't even look at you. You have nothing left here. Join me.*
"I can't," she spoke quietly.
*You can,* the voice spoke softly, placing something in her hand.
She looked down to see a box cutter.
*We can be together forever. I won't ever leave you like they all did.*
She sat for five minutes contemplating... She stood up finally, her limbs heavy. "This.." She spoke in a hushed tone, then screamed as loud as she could, "**This is for what you did to me!**" She cut the inside of her arm vertically, just like she had tried to do once before. Before, she stopped because of the pain. But this time, it was replaced with happiness. Lucifer was helping her. She cut herself all over, again and again and again and again, again, again, again, again, again, again, againagainagainagainagainagainagai- Until she couldn't lift her hand.
*You're ready to come home, Luna. Close your eyes. I've got you.* Lucifer carried her through the portal and into her eternal home.
Edit: wording & spelling
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "Well son of a bitch, it finally worked" Leo muttered under his breath as the carefully drawn runes on the floor began to glow in shifting shades of iridescent blue and red. His marked pessimism had only grown stronger with age, and as the void wretched itself open, and two grisly claws began to emerge from the nether, he thought to himself this will be a fitting end to his career as a summoner. His greatest achievement, would go unrecorded and unremembered.
It was not always so for Leo. There was a time in his life, where this summoning would have been celebrated as a grand display of his prowess. Leo's family was killed by the invading hordes from the East when he was young. At 12, he started practicing black magic as a student under a Dark Magician in the Imperial Army, who had taken to adopting orphaned youngsters who showed proficiency. His goal was to groom these children to serve as battle mages.
Leo instantly showed an affinity for summoning. His abilities quickly surpassed those of his peers. Soon he was enlisted as a battle mage, and sent out with a regiment of soldiers. With all the confidence in this world and the next, Leo charged into battle time and time again with these men. However, several mistakes were made. These were not the fault of Leo directly. Battle is unpredictable to say the least. The creatures Leo summoned were either inappropriate for the situation at hand, or were not powerful enough to route the enemy forces.
Word of these failures spread, and the command of the Imperial Army was not one to give second, let alone third, chances. Soon Leo's days as a battle mage were over. For the rest of his career, he was relegated to menial duties such as enchanting cursed arrows for the archers. Typical black magic apprentice work. Leo always wondered though, what life would been like had he been a successful summoner. He wondered about it until this very day, which he was suddenly snapped back to.
The demon, now fully materialized from the void, spoke to Leo. The demon obviously didn't make any real sound, but Leo could hear the voice audibly in his head. It could only be described as a young boy's voice and an old man's voice speaking simultaneously.
"Why have you brought me here?" The demon whispered into the back of his mind. Leo froze, then responded. "Honestly?"
The demon roared in Leo's mind "I will destroy you in a moment if you lie." The demon began to move. It's movements belied the ferocious tone it had just taken with it's summoner. It slowly rose from it's knees in front of the rift to the void, and stood up to reveal it's bipedal humanoid form. It appeared as only the darkest shadow, no other details could be seen.
Leo, for the first time in this whole ordeal, began to feel a tinge of fear. He responded carefully. "I summoned you, for no other reason, than to see if I could." He slowly looked down at this spell book, averting his eyes from the demon.
"You old fool!" the demon hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"I am aware" Leo responded, without lifting his gaze.
"Then you know I am endless torment! I am the plague and the purge. My many names are written in blood across the battlefields of this plane. You will sacrifice greatly for bringing me here wizard! You will now know the *true* meaning of loss and sorrow!"
"I only have my life" Leo responded, almost interrupting the demon from waxing poetic. "When I attempted the summoning, I knew my life would most likely be forfeit. I have accepted that. I do not desire to love longer as it is."
In the blink of an eye, The demon closed the 15 meter gap between it and Leo. It now had it's hand around Leo's throat, and it's "face" was inches from Leo's own. The demon snarled, as it searched Leo's soul and saw what he had said was true.
"Your miserable life means nothing to me" the demon said. "I will harvest all you hold dear. I will reap your family, your closest friends, and hang them in my storehouse. There they will suffer for eternity, as a profane reminder as to the consequences of a mortal beckoning me forth."
"Friends, Family?" Leo said somberly. "They are all gone. Have been for quite some time. I am alone in this world. I have nothing, I have no one. I summoned you demon, simply to remember what it's like to speak to another being. There was a famine last year, and everyone headed south to find food. I remained behind, as I had no one to travel with. I think I may be the last man in the north. If I am not, I have yet to see another one. Anyway, this spring, my crops failed. Soon I will be out of food. I am too old and my health is too poor to try and complete the journey south now. No, I am well aware of my fate. I brought you here, just to speak to someone If only for one last time."
The demon was absolutely motionless. It stared into Leo's eyes for what seemed like hours but was only a few moments. It searched his soul completely, and found everything he said to be true.
In a flash, the demon drew a sword from it's back. The smell of burning flesh and sulfur instantly filled the room. It slashed at Leo at an almost inperceivable speed. The blade avoided killing him by millimeters. Instead, it left a gash on his left cheek, which instantly cauterized and closed. The slash also opened a new rift back into the void.
"No mortal, you will suffer greatly" The demon spoke directly into Leo's mind. "Congratulations wizard, you are the only human who has ever been in my presence and lived." And with that, the demon stepped back into the void, and vanished.
Leo's old heart was close to failure it had been beating so hard. Slowly, he regained his breath, and sat down. What had he just done? He had just completed summoning the most powerful being he had ever summoned in his entire life. Possibly the greatest summoning in the history of the discipline! He could hardly believe what had just happened.
Perhaps he was worth something after all! Leo's mind began to work in a way it had not in many years. Maybe he was important! If his spirit was powerful enough to save him from the lord of the void, maybe he would stand a chance leaving this God forsaken farm and heading south. South to people. South to civilization.
Leo immediately grabbed his cloak and his staff. He would summon a lightning horse and be off to the south. No use sitting here any longer, only death awaited him. But when he unbarred the door to his cabin, it would not budge. Frantically he heaved with his whole body weight, but the door would not open. Leo began screaming and clawing at the timber panel, but nonetheless, it would not give way.
Finally, he tried casting a fire spell on the door, hoping to kick away the cinders and escape before the entire cabin burned. But as he finished the incantation, instead the mark on his cheek simply began to glow. The spell itself never materializing. The harder he tried to cast his magic, the greater the glow from his wound. He had been silenced. And he remained in that cabin, alone, for the rest of time.
| Luna took out the homemade Ouija board she had been crafting for the past week. *Not the most conventional method of making friends...* she thought. She didn't have much choice, though. Her parents had divorced, her dad moving up into the reclusive mountains. This is where she was to spend her summer.
She was only sixteen, but had researched countless hours on the internet about Ouija boards, black magic, demons, etc. she was finally ready to begin.
Setting up the candles in the attic, she placed the makeshift board down and put the planchette above the G as the online guides suggest. After a few seconds of nothing, she moves it in a round motion. Finally, it starts to move.
*H-E-L-L-O*
"Hello. My name is Luna. What is yours?" She spoke excitedly, shocked it was working.
*Y-O-U-S-H-O-U-L-D-N-T-B-E-D-O-I-N-G-T-H-I-S-A-L-O-N-E-L-U-N-A*
"Why not?" She asked the board.
*Y-O-U-D-O-N-T-K-N-O-W-W-H-O-C-O-U-L-D-B-E-O-N-T-H-E-O-T-H-E-R-S-I-D-E*
Luna looked at the printouts she had brought with her. *Users may not get more than yes or no answers; this depends on the strength of the spirit. If the spirit seems very strong, it's best to move the planchette to GOODBYE as they could be dangerous.*
She started to move the planchette, but a force that took her by surprise refused to allow her to do it.
*W-A-I-T*
She hesitated... "W-what do you want?"
*T-O-T-A-L-K-T-O-Y-O-U*
She took her fingers off the board and sat there thinking, weighing the pros and cons of the situation, when the board shook. The planchette moved by itself, first in a figure eight pattern, and then it counted down from 9-0.
Everything was silent as Luna grabbed the papers, trying to find...*here it is*... She realized her mistake.
*Hello Luna.* A deep voice hisses.
"Who a-are you?" She shudders at the sudden cold in the attic. It must have dropped twenty degrees.
*Hush, child. I don't wish to frighten you. Like I said, I just want to talk.*
Luna looked around but could see nothing, "What do you want to talk about?"
A chuckle. *You. Me. Us.*
"..us?"
*Sweet Luna. I have been observing you. What do you think has been pulling you towards the occult? Who do you think had your parents name you Luna, the name of the Moon and representative of the night? I have been with you since your birth, and at the ripe age of sixteen, it is your chance to come join me.*
"W-what do you mean? I'm not going anywhere with you!" She growled, still looking around the room. *How old even is this demon creep,* she thought.
*I am only 19 in the body, Luna, and I would appreciate if you would stop with the name calling.* Suddenly the booming voice sounded tired and impatient.
"I'm sorry," she said, unsure why. "What do you want from me? Why me?"
*You're beautiful, and your pure spirit brings me joy. I would love to corrupt it.* Unbeknownst to her, Lucifer was walking around her, running his long fingers through her hair disguised as a whoosh of cold wind, feeding off the fear. She stayed silent. *All of the years of hardship you've endured, dear girl. You should never had had to go through that. Your uncle touching you... Your mom taking his side... Your dad leaving without his little princess. Why were you born into such a... Hell?*
"Don't talk about my uncle! I hate him! I hate him! And my mother too! What kind of mother would do that?!" She yelled to the nothingness. Then, quietly, "What kind of mother would do that?" She collapsed to the ground.
Lucifer held her in his lap, running his fingers through the soft black hair on her head and whispering in her ear, *You can get revenge on them all. We can, together. What do you have left in this world?*
She sat there, starting to feel the big arms around her, as silent and still as stone.
*You have an alcoholic mother-- a father who can't even look at you. You have nothing left here. Join me.*
"I can't," she spoke quietly.
*You can,* the voice spoke softly, placing something in her hand.
She looked down to see a box cutter.
*We can be together forever. I won't ever leave you like they all did.*
She sat for five minutes contemplating... She stood up finally, her limbs heavy. "This.." She spoke in a hushed tone, then screamed as loud as she could, "**This is for what you did to me!**" She cut the inside of her arm vertically, just like she had tried to do once before. Before, she stopped because of the pain. But this time, it was replaced with happiness. Lucifer was helping her. She cut herself all over, again and again and again and again, again, again, again, again, again, again, againagainagainagainagainagainagai- Until she couldn't lift her hand.
*You're ready to come home, Luna. Close your eyes. I've got you.* Lucifer carried her through the portal and into her eternal home.
Edit: wording & spelling
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The basement is dark, the only light is provided by the candles that are placed precisely at each point on the circle. Jacob finishes the incantation and stares at the center of the circle watching as a demon slowly rises through the floor. First, he sees the horns. Two on either side of the demon's head, slightly curled at the ends. Next is the demon's head. His eyes are closed and a single fang protrudes from his mouth. With each breath smoke is exhaled from him, filling the basement with the aroma of what reminded Jacob of a volcano.
Jacob sits down in a chair and puts his feet up on the chessboard, careful not to knock any of the pieces over. He leans in the chair and lets out a bored sigh.
"This is taking forever." He says to himself.
At last the demon stops. His eyelids shoot open revealing his red irises. They are not just red, they flicker and change to an orange and yellow periodically like they were fire themselves.
"I AM DRAKUS! LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD! WHAT DOES A MERE HUMAN LIKE YOU WANT WITH ME!" His voices booms, hot spit flying everywhere with each syllable spoken.
Jacob absentmindedly wipes the spit from his face and looks at Drakus, " I moved here a couple months ago and no one seems interested in being my friend."
Drakus lets out what seems to be a laugh, but it sounds more like a low rumble. Kind of what you hear before a strong earthquake hits. "And what do you think you would have accomplished by summoning me, human?"
"I dunno." Jacob shrugs and motions towards the chessboard. "I was hoping you would play a game of chess with me."
"Let me get this straight." Drakus scratches his head. "You summon the most powerful demon in the world and you want to play... chess?"
"Or checkers. I'm fine with both." Says Jacob.
"Wouldn't you rather start a war?" Drakus suggests.
"Nah." Jacob scratches the inside of his ear, seeming uninterested.
"How about we spread a plague?"
"Seems boring."
"Start the apocalypse?"
"Sounds messy."
"Possession?"
"Too much work."
Drakus sighs and takes his seat across from Jacob. Jacob shifts and sits up and makes the first move.
"I'm beginning to see why you have no friends." Says Drakus, moving his first pawn forward.
| The man felt a shiver run down his spine as he walked down the road, forcing him to stop midstep. He turned around to see a being in the darkness. In the dim light he could only make out the silhouette, but if the hair was anything to go by then it was female. He glanced at it fearfully, looking around for any onlookers, something about the situation making him hope that someone was there.
But no one was.
"Hi, uh... is there... anything I can help you with?"
The form shuffled slowly towards him, and he wanted to run away, but his feet felt heavy and bound. He couldn't bring himself to move, and his heart beat began to accelerate as his fear grew.
Sharp teeth peaked out into the light, like a shark's mouth, but there was no wide grin. Instead, it seemed not at all intimidating. "Why did you summon me from my plane?"
"Wh-what? I didn't-"
It lunged closer, and this time the man took several hasty steps backwards, almost falling to the ground, but managing to catch himself with his hand before he did. And then, instead of beating a hasty retreat, he stayed. More out of curiosity then some binding fear.
"Do not lie to me, Mortal." The voice shuffled like heavy curtains. "The demands of your heart pulled me from the realm of nightmares. Tell me why you have summoned me."
"I-" He looked at the monster, his fears giving way to the despair that he harbored in his soul. "I lost my pet bird the other day."
"That's all?" Anger grew in the voice. "You feel so horrible because you lost a bird?!"
"No, it's... My family doesn't talk to me any more, my wife divorced me, My job is nothing but a time sink with no chance for upward promotion. I just... I can't even take care of a bird. I'm so... stupid. I just want it to end."
The form slithered forward through the darkness. It looked at him with unreadable orbs of red, and lifted a claw away from it's body. The claw moved until it rested on his chest above his heart. "I see. Broken-hearted."
"Yea. Broken-hearted."
"Would you enjoy it if I stayed? I am in no hurry to return home."
"Heh, I don't think I have anything we could do."
"Do you have John Wayne?"
"Like, his movies?"
"Yes, I haven't seen one in a long time."
"Yea." The man smiled, looking into the red orbs that seemed so comforting at that moment. "Yea, I do." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "Well son of a bitch, it finally worked" Leo muttered under his breath as the carefully drawn runes on the floor began to glow in shifting shades of iridescent blue and red. His marked pessimism had only grown stronger with age, and as the void wretched itself open, and two grisly claws began to emerge from the nether, he thought to himself this will be a fitting end to his career as a summoner. His greatest achievement, would go unrecorded and unremembered.
It was not always so for Leo. There was a time in his life, where this summoning would have been celebrated as a grand display of his prowess. Leo's family was killed by the invading hordes from the East when he was young. At 12, he started practicing black magic as a student under a Dark Magician in the Imperial Army, who had taken to adopting orphaned youngsters who showed proficiency. His goal was to groom these children to serve as battle mages.
Leo instantly showed an affinity for summoning. His abilities quickly surpassed those of his peers. Soon he was enlisted as a battle mage, and sent out with a regiment of soldiers. With all the confidence in this world and the next, Leo charged into battle time and time again with these men. However, several mistakes were made. These were not the fault of Leo directly. Battle is unpredictable to say the least. The creatures Leo summoned were either inappropriate for the situation at hand, or were not powerful enough to route the enemy forces.
Word of these failures spread, and the command of the Imperial Army was not one to give second, let alone third, chances. Soon Leo's days as a battle mage were over. For the rest of his career, he was relegated to menial duties such as enchanting cursed arrows for the archers. Typical black magic apprentice work. Leo always wondered though, what life would been like had he been a successful summoner. He wondered about it until this very day, which he was suddenly snapped back to.
The demon, now fully materialized from the void, spoke to Leo. The demon obviously didn't make any real sound, but Leo could hear the voice audibly in his head. It could only be described as a young boy's voice and an old man's voice speaking simultaneously.
"Why have you brought me here?" The demon whispered into the back of his mind. Leo froze, then responded. "Honestly?"
The demon roared in Leo's mind "I will destroy you in a moment if you lie." The demon began to move. It's movements belied the ferocious tone it had just taken with it's summoner. It slowly rose from it's knees in front of the rift to the void, and stood up to reveal it's bipedal humanoid form. It appeared as only the darkest shadow, no other details could be seen.
Leo, for the first time in this whole ordeal, began to feel a tinge of fear. He responded carefully. "I summoned you, for no other reason, than to see if I could." He slowly looked down at this spell book, averting his eyes from the demon.
"You old fool!" the demon hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"I am aware" Leo responded, without lifting his gaze.
"Then you know I am endless torment! I am the plague and the purge. My many names are written in blood across the battlefields of this plane. You will sacrifice greatly for bringing me here wizard! You will now know the *true* meaning of loss and sorrow!"
"I only have my life" Leo responded, almost interrupting the demon from waxing poetic. "When I attempted the summoning, I knew my life would most likely be forfeit. I have accepted that. I do not desire to love longer as it is."
In the blink of an eye, The demon closed the 15 meter gap between it and Leo. It now had it's hand around Leo's throat, and it's "face" was inches from Leo's own. The demon snarled, as it searched Leo's soul and saw what he had said was true.
"Your miserable life means nothing to me" the demon said. "I will harvest all you hold dear. I will reap your family, your closest friends, and hang them in my storehouse. There they will suffer for eternity, as a profane reminder as to the consequences of a mortal beckoning me forth."
"Friends, Family?" Leo said somberly. "They are all gone. Have been for quite some time. I am alone in this world. I have nothing, I have no one. I summoned you demon, simply to remember what it's like to speak to another being. There was a famine last year, and everyone headed south to find food. I remained behind, as I had no one to travel with. I think I may be the last man in the north. If I am not, I have yet to see another one. Anyway, this spring, my crops failed. Soon I will be out of food. I am too old and my health is too poor to try and complete the journey south now. No, I am well aware of my fate. I brought you here, just to speak to someone If only for one last time."
The demon was absolutely motionless. It stared into Leo's eyes for what seemed like hours but was only a few moments. It searched his soul completely, and found everything he said to be true.
In a flash, the demon drew a sword from it's back. The smell of burning flesh and sulfur instantly filled the room. It slashed at Leo at an almost inperceivable speed. The blade avoided killing him by millimeters. Instead, it left a gash on his left cheek, which instantly cauterized and closed. The slash also opened a new rift back into the void.
"No mortal, you will suffer greatly" The demon spoke directly into Leo's mind. "Congratulations wizard, you are the only human who has ever been in my presence and lived." And with that, the demon stepped back into the void, and vanished.
Leo's old heart was close to failure it had been beating so hard. Slowly, he regained his breath, and sat down. What had he just done? He had just completed summoning the most powerful being he had ever summoned in his entire life. Possibly the greatest summoning in the history of the discipline! He could hardly believe what had just happened.
Perhaps he was worth something after all! Leo's mind began to work in a way it had not in many years. Maybe he was important! If his spirit was powerful enough to save him from the lord of the void, maybe he would stand a chance leaving this God forsaken farm and heading south. South to people. South to civilization.
Leo immediately grabbed his cloak and his staff. He would summon a lightning horse and be off to the south. No use sitting here any longer, only death awaited him. But when he unbarred the door to his cabin, it would not budge. Frantically he heaved with his whole body weight, but the door would not open. Leo began screaming and clawing at the timber panel, but nonetheless, it would not give way.
Finally, he tried casting a fire spell on the door, hoping to kick away the cinders and escape before the entire cabin burned. But as he finished the incantation, instead the mark on his cheek simply began to glow. The spell itself never materializing. The harder he tried to cast his magic, the greater the glow from his wound. He had been silenced. And he remained in that cabin, alone, for the rest of time.
| The man felt a shiver run down his spine as he walked down the road, forcing him to stop midstep. He turned around to see a being in the darkness. In the dim light he could only make out the silhouette, but if the hair was anything to go by then it was female. He glanced at it fearfully, looking around for any onlookers, something about the situation making him hope that someone was there.
But no one was.
"Hi, uh... is there... anything I can help you with?"
The form shuffled slowly towards him, and he wanted to run away, but his feet felt heavy and bound. He couldn't bring himself to move, and his heart beat began to accelerate as his fear grew.
Sharp teeth peaked out into the light, like a shark's mouth, but there was no wide grin. Instead, it seemed not at all intimidating. "Why did you summon me from my plane?"
"Wh-what? I didn't-"
It lunged closer, and this time the man took several hasty steps backwards, almost falling to the ground, but managing to catch himself with his hand before he did. And then, instead of beating a hasty retreat, he stayed. More out of curiosity then some binding fear.
"Do not lie to me, Mortal." The voice shuffled like heavy curtains. "The demands of your heart pulled me from the realm of nightmares. Tell me why you have summoned me."
"I-" He looked at the monster, his fears giving way to the despair that he harbored in his soul. "I lost my pet bird the other day."
"That's all?" Anger grew in the voice. "You feel so horrible because you lost a bird?!"
"No, it's... My family doesn't talk to me any more, my wife divorced me, My job is nothing but a time sink with no chance for upward promotion. I just... I can't even take care of a bird. I'm so... stupid. I just want it to end."
The form slithered forward through the darkness. It looked at him with unreadable orbs of red, and lifted a claw away from it's body. The claw moved until it rested on his chest above his heart. "I see. Broken-hearted."
"Yea. Broken-hearted."
"Would you enjoy it if I stayed? I am in no hurry to return home."
"Heh, I don't think I have anything we could do."
"Do you have John Wayne?"
"Like, his movies?"
"Yes, I haven't seen one in a long time."
"Yea." The man smiled, looking into the red orbs that seemed so comforting at that moment. "Yea, I do." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The basement is dark, the only light is provided by the candles that are placed precisely at each point on the circle. Jacob finishes the incantation and stares at the center of the circle watching as a demon slowly rises through the floor. First, he sees the horns. Two on either side of the demon's head, slightly curled at the ends. Next is the demon's head. His eyes are closed and a single fang protrudes from his mouth. With each breath smoke is exhaled from him, filling the basement with the aroma of what reminded Jacob of a volcano.
Jacob sits down in a chair and puts his feet up on the chessboard, careful not to knock any of the pieces over. He leans in the chair and lets out a bored sigh.
"This is taking forever." He says to himself.
At last the demon stops. His eyelids shoot open revealing his red irises. They are not just red, they flicker and change to an orange and yellow periodically like they were fire themselves.
"I AM DRAKUS! LORD OF THE UNDERWORLD! WHAT DOES A MERE HUMAN LIKE YOU WANT WITH ME!" His voices booms, hot spit flying everywhere with each syllable spoken.
Jacob absentmindedly wipes the spit from his face and looks at Drakus, " I moved here a couple months ago and no one seems interested in being my friend."
Drakus lets out what seems to be a laugh, but it sounds more like a low rumble. Kind of what you hear before a strong earthquake hits. "And what do you think you would have accomplished by summoning me, human?"
"I dunno." Jacob shrugs and motions towards the chessboard. "I was hoping you would play a game of chess with me."
"Let me get this straight." Drakus scratches his head. "You summon the most powerful demon in the world and you want to play... chess?"
"Or checkers. I'm fine with both." Says Jacob.
"Wouldn't you rather start a war?" Drakus suggests.
"Nah." Jacob scratches the inside of his ear, seeming uninterested.
"How about we spread a plague?"
"Seems boring."
"Start the apocalypse?"
"Sounds messy."
"Possession?"
"Too much work."
Drakus sighs and takes his seat across from Jacob. Jacob shifts and sits up and makes the first move.
"I'm beginning to see why you have no friends." Says Drakus, moving his first pawn forward.
| Marcus tightened his grip on the steering wheel and felt the rubber flex under his palms. A bead of sweat found its way down its nose and he spat the salty foam over the windshield. "Oh, come on!" he screamed, stomping at the interior of the car. He watched the traffic lights like a hawk and as soon as they changed, the car accelerated forward in a mist of burnt rubber.
He punched the number into his phone again and it rang. "Pick it up, please God pick it up" he said through clenched teeth. But still the phone rang. He couldn't believe what was happening. He had kept up this charade for so long that any traces of guilt, shame or paranoia had almost vanished from his mind.
How could he have forgotten the maid was coming today? He had always been so careful, so precise with his secret. And it was quite the secret. It had driven him to the edge of sanity and back again. He had lost his job, his wife became more estranged than she was already, and both of his friends stopped returning his calls.
It had been a bad night. He felt lonely. And drunk. Someone, or something, had slipped that little scroll with the pentagram into his pocket. He always found himself much more vulnerable to the excesses of melodrama and fantasy when he was hammered, but even he would never had let himself believe anything so unnatural. He was a man of evidence and reason. How irrelevant those words seemed now. His world wasn't one of theory and science anymore, but one of eternal prophecy, divine authority and evil, ancient fury.
He wished that he had never turned the scroll over to see a note scribbled incongruously in biro. "6th June. 6am. Sunrise and blood." He laughed and turned over the scroll again to look in more detail at the pentagram on the front but found nothing on it. He turned it over again and again in his hands but could find no trace of the marks. His head swam with confusion and gin. He was a man of evidence and reason.
The 6th of June at 6am. A meadow under a new sky. A knife and a rat from the pet store. The sun rises and he drags the knife under the rat's throat, wipes the blade with the scroll and it burns, crumbles into ash. A ring of fire, horns, teeth, black eyes.
He had just been lonely.
"Hello, this is Julie if you'd like to lea-"
He hung the phone up. It didn't matter. He would be there in a moment. Just around that corner, second street on the right. The car screeched up the driveway and he leapt out the car, fumbled with his keys to get the door open and burst through the front door. He stood, frozen.
"A friend."
A familiar rumbling, hissing voice, that spat and popped like a fire, echoed from the basement. Marcus closed his eyes and wished he was somewhere else. Wished, and not for the last time, that he had never summoned the demon.
"A friend."
It repeated.
Marcus made his way down the basement, slowing his descent in terror of what would greet him. From between the beams of the staircase, he made out the figure of Julie. She was sat, her hands in her lap, quite calm and serene, with a fair-away look in her eyes. She turned her head to him and smiled a wide grin, its falseness betrayed by her dead eyes. Her mouth suddenly dropped open and hung there a moment. She spoke:
“I think we shall be great friends”
The demon was turned away from Marcus, but upon her statement, he began to turn his great, dark body round to face him. He extended his giant arm towards Julie, as if presenting his master a great gift.
It had happened again. He had asked for a friend, and it had delivered them.
One after the other.
Minds broken, just automatons, vessels for putrid, false sentiment. What could Marcus do but tell the demon to undo what he had done? Whether they went down, from where the demon had been born he knew not.
The monster smiled a little wider, in anticipation of what was to come. Marcus nodded his head in the slightest way possible and closed his eyes.
He had only wanted a friend. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "Well son of a bitch, it finally worked" Leo muttered under his breath as the carefully drawn runes on the floor began to glow in shifting shades of iridescent blue and red. His marked pessimism had only grown stronger with age, and as the void wretched itself open, and two grisly claws began to emerge from the nether, he thought to himself this will be a fitting end to his career as a summoner. His greatest achievement, would go unrecorded and unremembered.
It was not always so for Leo. There was a time in his life, where this summoning would have been celebrated as a grand display of his prowess. Leo's family was killed by the invading hordes from the East when he was young. At 12, he started practicing black magic as a student under a Dark Magician in the Imperial Army, who had taken to adopting orphaned youngsters who showed proficiency. His goal was to groom these children to serve as battle mages.
Leo instantly showed an affinity for summoning. His abilities quickly surpassed those of his peers. Soon he was enlisted as a battle mage, and sent out with a regiment of soldiers. With all the confidence in this world and the next, Leo charged into battle time and time again with these men. However, several mistakes were made. These were not the fault of Leo directly. Battle is unpredictable to say the least. The creatures Leo summoned were either inappropriate for the situation at hand, or were not powerful enough to route the enemy forces.
Word of these failures spread, and the command of the Imperial Army was not one to give second, let alone third, chances. Soon Leo's days as a battle mage were over. For the rest of his career, he was relegated to menial duties such as enchanting cursed arrows for the archers. Typical black magic apprentice work. Leo always wondered though, what life would been like had he been a successful summoner. He wondered about it until this very day, which he was suddenly snapped back to.
The demon, now fully materialized from the void, spoke to Leo. The demon obviously didn't make any real sound, but Leo could hear the voice audibly in his head. It could only be described as a young boy's voice and an old man's voice speaking simultaneously.
"Why have you brought me here?" The demon whispered into the back of his mind. Leo froze, then responded. "Honestly?"
The demon roared in Leo's mind "I will destroy you in a moment if you lie." The demon began to move. It's movements belied the ferocious tone it had just taken with it's summoner. It slowly rose from it's knees in front of the rift to the void, and stood up to reveal it's bipedal humanoid form. It appeared as only the darkest shadow, no other details could be seen.
Leo, for the first time in this whole ordeal, began to feel a tinge of fear. He responded carefully. "I summoned you, for no other reason, than to see if I could." He slowly looked down at this spell book, averting his eyes from the demon.
"You old fool!" the demon hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"I am aware" Leo responded, without lifting his gaze.
"Then you know I am endless torment! I am the plague and the purge. My many names are written in blood across the battlefields of this plane. You will sacrifice greatly for bringing me here wizard! You will now know the *true* meaning of loss and sorrow!"
"I only have my life" Leo responded, almost interrupting the demon from waxing poetic. "When I attempted the summoning, I knew my life would most likely be forfeit. I have accepted that. I do not desire to love longer as it is."
In the blink of an eye, The demon closed the 15 meter gap between it and Leo. It now had it's hand around Leo's throat, and it's "face" was inches from Leo's own. The demon snarled, as it searched Leo's soul and saw what he had said was true.
"Your miserable life means nothing to me" the demon said. "I will harvest all you hold dear. I will reap your family, your closest friends, and hang them in my storehouse. There they will suffer for eternity, as a profane reminder as to the consequences of a mortal beckoning me forth."
"Friends, Family?" Leo said somberly. "They are all gone. Have been for quite some time. I am alone in this world. I have nothing, I have no one. I summoned you demon, simply to remember what it's like to speak to another being. There was a famine last year, and everyone headed south to find food. I remained behind, as I had no one to travel with. I think I may be the last man in the north. If I am not, I have yet to see another one. Anyway, this spring, my crops failed. Soon I will be out of food. I am too old and my health is too poor to try and complete the journey south now. No, I am well aware of my fate. I brought you here, just to speak to someone If only for one last time."
The demon was absolutely motionless. It stared into Leo's eyes for what seemed like hours but was only a few moments. It searched his soul completely, and found everything he said to be true.
In a flash, the demon drew a sword from it's back. The smell of burning flesh and sulfur instantly filled the room. It slashed at Leo at an almost inperceivable speed. The blade avoided killing him by millimeters. Instead, it left a gash on his left cheek, which instantly cauterized and closed. The slash also opened a new rift back into the void.
"No mortal, you will suffer greatly" The demon spoke directly into Leo's mind. "Congratulations wizard, you are the only human who has ever been in my presence and lived." And with that, the demon stepped back into the void, and vanished.
Leo's old heart was close to failure it had been beating so hard. Slowly, he regained his breath, and sat down. What had he just done? He had just completed summoning the most powerful being he had ever summoned in his entire life. Possibly the greatest summoning in the history of the discipline! He could hardly believe what had just happened.
Perhaps he was worth something after all! Leo's mind began to work in a way it had not in many years. Maybe he was important! If his spirit was powerful enough to save him from the lord of the void, maybe he would stand a chance leaving this God forsaken farm and heading south. South to people. South to civilization.
Leo immediately grabbed his cloak and his staff. He would summon a lightning horse and be off to the south. No use sitting here any longer, only death awaited him. But when he unbarred the door to his cabin, it would not budge. Frantically he heaved with his whole body weight, but the door would not open. Leo began screaming and clawing at the timber panel, but nonetheless, it would not give way.
Finally, he tried casting a fire spell on the door, hoping to kick away the cinders and escape before the entire cabin burned. But as he finished the incantation, instead the mark on his cheek simply began to glow. The spell itself never materializing. The harder he tried to cast his magic, the greater the glow from his wound. He had been silenced. And he remained in that cabin, alone, for the rest of time.
| Marcus tightened his grip on the steering wheel and felt the rubber flex under his palms. A bead of sweat found its way down its nose and he spat the salty foam over the windshield. "Oh, come on!" he screamed, stomping at the interior of the car. He watched the traffic lights like a hawk and as soon as they changed, the car accelerated forward in a mist of burnt rubber.
He punched the number into his phone again and it rang. "Pick it up, please God pick it up" he said through clenched teeth. But still the phone rang. He couldn't believe what was happening. He had kept up this charade for so long that any traces of guilt, shame or paranoia had almost vanished from his mind.
How could he have forgotten the maid was coming today? He had always been so careful, so precise with his secret. And it was quite the secret. It had driven him to the edge of sanity and back again. He had lost his job, his wife became more estranged than she was already, and both of his friends stopped returning his calls.
It had been a bad night. He felt lonely. And drunk. Someone, or something, had slipped that little scroll with the pentagram into his pocket. He always found himself much more vulnerable to the excesses of melodrama and fantasy when he was hammered, but even he would never had let himself believe anything so unnatural. He was a man of evidence and reason. How irrelevant those words seemed now. His world wasn't one of theory and science anymore, but one of eternal prophecy, divine authority and evil, ancient fury.
He wished that he had never turned the scroll over to see a note scribbled incongruously in biro. "6th June. 6am. Sunrise and blood." He laughed and turned over the scroll again to look in more detail at the pentagram on the front but found nothing on it. He turned it over again and again in his hands but could find no trace of the marks. His head swam with confusion and gin. He was a man of evidence and reason.
The 6th of June at 6am. A meadow under a new sky. A knife and a rat from the pet store. The sun rises and he drags the knife under the rat's throat, wipes the blade with the scroll and it burns, crumbles into ash. A ring of fire, horns, teeth, black eyes.
He had just been lonely.
"Hello, this is Julie if you'd like to lea-"
He hung the phone up. It didn't matter. He would be there in a moment. Just around that corner, second street on the right. The car screeched up the driveway and he leapt out the car, fumbled with his keys to get the door open and burst through the front door. He stood, frozen.
"A friend."
A familiar rumbling, hissing voice, that spat and popped like a fire, echoed from the basement. Marcus closed his eyes and wished he was somewhere else. Wished, and not for the last time, that he had never summoned the demon.
"A friend."
It repeated.
Marcus made his way down the basement, slowing his descent in terror of what would greet him. From between the beams of the staircase, he made out the figure of Julie. She was sat, her hands in her lap, quite calm and serene, with a fair-away look in her eyes. She turned her head to him and smiled a wide grin, its falseness betrayed by her dead eyes. Her mouth suddenly dropped open and hung there a moment. She spoke:
“I think we shall be great friends”
The demon was turned away from Marcus, but upon her statement, he began to turn his great, dark body round to face him. He extended his giant arm towards Julie, as if presenting his master a great gift.
It had happened again. He had asked for a friend, and it had delivered them.
One after the other.
Minds broken, just automatons, vessels for putrid, false sentiment. What could Marcus do but tell the demon to undo what he had done? Whether they went down, from where the demon had been born he knew not.
The monster smiled a little wider, in anticipation of what was to come. Marcus nodded his head in the slightest way possible and closed his eyes.
He had only wanted a friend. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | I sat alone, bathed in the warm candlelight. That night was the night, the one I had been preparing myself for year after year. Everything was finally in its proper place, and not without great effort. I went through everything one last time, concentrating with all my might to bring back every little detail to the front of my mind. The countless days spent flipping through page after page, filling myself to the brim with untold knowledge. Everything had to be perfect, I only had one chance.
"No mistakes. Not this time." This was the only thought in my head as I double and triple checked the items I had prepared. Thousands, maybe even tens of thousands, of dollars spent on everything before me. I took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the hot air swirling around me. The burning wax of the candle mixing with the scent of the meat I had prepared for tribute. It smelt sweet, almost sickeningly so.
"No Mistakes. Not this time." The thought echoed through my mind again, this time a statement instead of a command. My preparations WERE complete. I opened the ancient tome on the table in front of me and ran my fingers across the runes, relishing in the rough texture. As I began to speak the ritual prayer aloud, the characters on the page glowed one after another, following my chant. After a few seconds they flew of the page, swirling around me like fireflies. It felt like an eternity was passing by, as though Chronos himself was giving me ample time to make a mistake. Not today. Today he would come. I spoke his name, the final word of the prayer.
"Tzel'kren!" My voice exploded with power, and the world itself shuddered around me. The earth below me shook in fear. The sky covered itself in thick clouds, as though to cover the eyes of God. The wind ran in all directions, making it hard to breath, but nothing I couldn't handle. A year and a half in the Himalayas searching for the manuscript in my hands had prepared me for more than this.
That was when I saw it, His hand tearing through the sigil I had prepared for Him. It was twisted and gnarled, fingers sprouting from it in every direction almost at random. The fingers themselves followed a similar pattern, the number and direction of His joints seemingly decided with no obvious logical pattern. His arm continued to His first elbow, socketed within was a surprisingly human eye twitching wildly, scanning every inch of its surroundings. Five more of these joints followed, with two more entire arms after them. His arms slithered through the air with an otherworldly grace, guiding his hands to the ground in a mesmerizing spiral. As his fingers took root in the earth the wind picked up violently before quickly falling still again. The Earth's wail sent shivers down my spine. Whether it was anticipation or some sort of primal fear I may never know. His voice began to echo through my mind as his head arose from the void. He spoke in a language I had never heard before, but I understood every word.
"I AM THE SHADOW IN THE NIGHT. I AM THE VOID BETWEEN THE STARS. I AM THE NIGHTMARE OF THE GODS." His eyeless visage rose before me, his head encased is something resembling porcelain or bone, His writing flesh peeking out from the spaces between the individual plates.
"I AM ALL THAT EVER WAS. I AM ALL THAT IS. I AM ALL THAT WILL EVER BE." His body rose up, the source of his arms finally revealing itself, nestling themselves between the blindingly white plates that continued to His waist. They were less solid here, cracks spread from where his arms appeared to have broken out from beneath them. Each piece slid around his torso slowly, like the plates of the earth. His flesh underneath flowed like magma, each sinew twisting endlessly in a way that was difficult to comprehend.
"I AM THE BUTCHER OF TRUTH. I AM THE UNRAVELER OF TIME. I AM THE DEVOURER OF HOPE." The twisting underneath His plates continued downward, each sinew growing larger and becoming one of a mass of tendrils spinning endlessly beneath him. Each one reached out from his portal and grabbed its edge, forcing it closed. There he stood, if that's even the correct word to describe it, before me. I could see the candle in front of me reflecting off of His shining face. I could see all of his eyes spin to look at me. I made an effort to meet them, but after a difficulty in deciding which one to look at specifically I made the choice to look him in his "face." I could see my eyes, shining in the candlelight, in His reflection. I felt like this was a reasonable compromise.
"I AM TZEL'KREN! WHAT COMPELS YOU TO SPEAK MY NAME, WORM!? WHAT DO YOU DARE ASK OF ME?!" He bellowed into my mind, blowing my own thoughts away with the force of His voice. I tried to speak.
"Hi, my name is Jo-" My voice cracked on the first syllable of my name. Shit. Terrible first impression. I attempted to compose myself, coughing loudly to clear my throat before making a second attempt.
"Hello, my name is Joshua. Nice to meet you!" I shifted a bit in my chair as I spoke, nervousness perhaps.
"Um, yeah, so, uh...." I drifted off a bit, before looking at what I had prepared on the table in front of me. Two bottles of wine standing tall on the table.
"Oh yeah! Do you prefer Cabernet or Chardonnay?" His head twisted to the side slightly upon hearing that. Disappointment maybe?
"Oh I also have Pinot Grigio too. Yeah you seem like a Pinot sort of guy, ha, yeah. For sure." I got about halfway through a fist tap to his shoulder before pulling my hand back awkwardly. Way too friendly, that would have been super weird. I decided to wait until after the wine. I got up from my chair, my knees bumping the table on my way up knocking over one of the glasses. Lucky I hadn't poured any wine yet. So stupid. The ritual went so well too, I couldn't afford to be a klutz now. I needed to pull it together, this was the real deal.
"I DON'T... WHAT?! I AM TZEL'KREN! I AM THE UNMAKER!"
"Well how about you unmake frown and make it right on upside down." I giggled quietly at my joke until I realized it wasn't even even a joke. Also He didn't even really have a mouth, so it didn't even make any sense. That was fucking retarded, in hindsight. I focused on resetting the table before worrying about it, he probably didn't even notice how stupid it was anyway. "Oh, how rude of me. Have a seat." I pulled out the chair I had prepared on His side of the table. He stared at me silently for a moment before slithering over the chair, consuming it within the endless thresher that was his lower body. The chair didn't even stand a chance.
"DO YOU NOT FEAR ME? I DON'T UNDERSTAND." His rear arm reached down and picked up the steak I had prepared just an hour earlier. I really hoped it hadn't gone cold in the time it took Him to rise from the hole to the strange forever he tore in the fabric of space and time. "What even is this?" His voice softened now, no longer tearing through my mind with each word. Now was my chance, I had to show him I was cool too.
"Oh that's good stuff," I set his wine glass back upright next to the plate I had set out. The earlier accident with the table had knocked the silverware all out of order. I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed considering how many etiquette books I had bought to make sure I had all the forks in the right order. He seemed like a finger-food sort of guy though, considering he just grabbed it straight from the plate, so I didn't let it bother me. "100% Kobe beef. Imported straight from Japan. Um. Oh, I got some nice sauce for it too." I pointed towards the bottle on the center of the table, next to the candelabra and opposite the wine.
-Continued as reply.-
| Beelzebub flashed into existence. He bellowed.
There was a stone floor. He spun around on all fours, tossing his head, searching. There was only smoky green light in every direction.
The room began to vibrate. A hazy figure became visible in the distance, a dark mass that stood and watched. Beelzebub charged.
Shattered rock flew into the air with each hoofbeat. Thunder erupted from above, and the green light grew thick. The room's vibrations blurred the floor.
Horned head collided with flesh. The dark figure flew backwards into a stone wall, where it crumpled.
The room stopped shaking and the thunder went quiet. Beelzebub moved forward, head down, sniffing.
"J- Jenny McCarthy? Nuts. I was trying to summon my cousin Bob." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "Well son of a bitch, it finally worked" Leo muttered under his breath as the carefully drawn runes on the floor began to glow in shifting shades of iridescent blue and red. His marked pessimism had only grown stronger with age, and as the void wretched itself open, and two grisly claws began to emerge from the nether, he thought to himself this will be a fitting end to his career as a summoner. His greatest achievement, would go unrecorded and unremembered.
It was not always so for Leo. There was a time in his life, where this summoning would have been celebrated as a grand display of his prowess. Leo's family was killed by the invading hordes from the East when he was young. At 12, he started practicing black magic as a student under a Dark Magician in the Imperial Army, who had taken to adopting orphaned youngsters who showed proficiency. His goal was to groom these children to serve as battle mages.
Leo instantly showed an affinity for summoning. His abilities quickly surpassed those of his peers. Soon he was enlisted as a battle mage, and sent out with a regiment of soldiers. With all the confidence in this world and the next, Leo charged into battle time and time again with these men. However, several mistakes were made. These were not the fault of Leo directly. Battle is unpredictable to say the least. The creatures Leo summoned were either inappropriate for the situation at hand, or were not powerful enough to route the enemy forces.
Word of these failures spread, and the command of the Imperial Army was not one to give second, let alone third, chances. Soon Leo's days as a battle mage were over. For the rest of his career, he was relegated to menial duties such as enchanting cursed arrows for the archers. Typical black magic apprentice work. Leo always wondered though, what life would been like had he been a successful summoner. He wondered about it until this very day, which he was suddenly snapped back to.
The demon, now fully materialized from the void, spoke to Leo. The demon obviously didn't make any real sound, but Leo could hear the voice audibly in his head. It could only be described as a young boy's voice and an old man's voice speaking simultaneously.
"Why have you brought me here?" The demon whispered into the back of his mind. Leo froze, then responded. "Honestly?"
The demon roared in Leo's mind "I will destroy you in a moment if you lie." The demon began to move. It's movements belied the ferocious tone it had just taken with it's summoner. It slowly rose from it's knees in front of the rift to the void, and stood up to reveal it's bipedal humanoid form. It appeared as only the darkest shadow, no other details could be seen.
Leo, for the first time in this whole ordeal, began to feel a tinge of fear. He responded carefully. "I summoned you, for no other reason, than to see if I could." He slowly looked down at this spell book, averting his eyes from the demon.
"You old fool!" the demon hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"I am aware" Leo responded, without lifting his gaze.
"Then you know I am endless torment! I am the plague and the purge. My many names are written in blood across the battlefields of this plane. You will sacrifice greatly for bringing me here wizard! You will now know the *true* meaning of loss and sorrow!"
"I only have my life" Leo responded, almost interrupting the demon from waxing poetic. "When I attempted the summoning, I knew my life would most likely be forfeit. I have accepted that. I do not desire to love longer as it is."
In the blink of an eye, The demon closed the 15 meter gap between it and Leo. It now had it's hand around Leo's throat, and it's "face" was inches from Leo's own. The demon snarled, as it searched Leo's soul and saw what he had said was true.
"Your miserable life means nothing to me" the demon said. "I will harvest all you hold dear. I will reap your family, your closest friends, and hang them in my storehouse. There they will suffer for eternity, as a profane reminder as to the consequences of a mortal beckoning me forth."
"Friends, Family?" Leo said somberly. "They are all gone. Have been for quite some time. I am alone in this world. I have nothing, I have no one. I summoned you demon, simply to remember what it's like to speak to another being. There was a famine last year, and everyone headed south to find food. I remained behind, as I had no one to travel with. I think I may be the last man in the north. If I am not, I have yet to see another one. Anyway, this spring, my crops failed. Soon I will be out of food. I am too old and my health is too poor to try and complete the journey south now. No, I am well aware of my fate. I brought you here, just to speak to someone If only for one last time."
The demon was absolutely motionless. It stared into Leo's eyes for what seemed like hours but was only a few moments. It searched his soul completely, and found everything he said to be true.
In a flash, the demon drew a sword from it's back. The smell of burning flesh and sulfur instantly filled the room. It slashed at Leo at an almost inperceivable speed. The blade avoided killing him by millimeters. Instead, it left a gash on his left cheek, which instantly cauterized and closed. The slash also opened a new rift back into the void.
"No mortal, you will suffer greatly" The demon spoke directly into Leo's mind. "Congratulations wizard, you are the only human who has ever been in my presence and lived." And with that, the demon stepped back into the void, and vanished.
Leo's old heart was close to failure it had been beating so hard. Slowly, he regained his breath, and sat down. What had he just done? He had just completed summoning the most powerful being he had ever summoned in his entire life. Possibly the greatest summoning in the history of the discipline! He could hardly believe what had just happened.
Perhaps he was worth something after all! Leo's mind began to work in a way it had not in many years. Maybe he was important! If his spirit was powerful enough to save him from the lord of the void, maybe he would stand a chance leaving this God forsaken farm and heading south. South to people. South to civilization.
Leo immediately grabbed his cloak and his staff. He would summon a lightning horse and be off to the south. No use sitting here any longer, only death awaited him. But when he unbarred the door to his cabin, it would not budge. Frantically he heaved with his whole body weight, but the door would not open. Leo began screaming and clawing at the timber panel, but nonetheless, it would not give way.
Finally, he tried casting a fire spell on the door, hoping to kick away the cinders and escape before the entire cabin burned. But as he finished the incantation, instead the mark on his cheek simply began to glow. The spell itself never materializing. The harder he tried to cast his magic, the greater the glow from his wound. He had been silenced. And he remained in that cabin, alone, for the rest of time.
| Beelzebub flashed into existence. He bellowed.
There was a stone floor. He spun around on all fours, tossing his head, searching. There was only smoky green light in every direction.
The room began to vibrate. A hazy figure became visible in the distance, a dark mass that stood and watched. Beelzebub charged.
Shattered rock flew into the air with each hoofbeat. Thunder erupted from above, and the green light grew thick. The room's vibrations blurred the floor.
Horned head collided with flesh. The dark figure flew backwards into a stone wall, where it crumpled.
The room stopped shaking and the thunder went quiet. Beelzebub moved forward, head down, sniffing.
"J- Jenny McCarthy? Nuts. I was trying to summon my cousin Bob." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | The bones of a black cat, graveyard dirt and an old polaroid of himself. An odd list of ingredients, diligently placed inside an old pine box. The crossroads were bathed in the glow of a crescent moon, the yarrow flowers reflecting its soft light. He was ready.
"Et ad congregandum...eos coram me" he muttered, the ancient words of a long dead language catching slightly in his throat. A pause. A deep breath and...nothing.
"Nothing...All this for nothing...I can't do anything right..." He stared up at the moon, wondering if it was as lonely as he was. Then something out the corner of his eye...
"Hello boys...oh. Wait. You're not moose. And you're far too ugly to be tinkerbell. Who in hell are you sunshine and why did you summon me?"
A tickle at the back of his throat, he forced the words out.
"My names Theodore. You must be the King of Hell."
"My my aren't we clever. The name's Crowley, you can cut all that 'King of Hell' crap. Just tell me what you want. You know I don't usually handle these kind of deals personally anymore...but well. A soul's a soul I guess. What'll be. Riches? Beauty? A new Lamborghini with matching supermodel? Well. Spit it out."
"I urr...I don't want any of that."
"Well I cant make anyone fall in love with you. Aladdin rules. Besides you've had one two many falls from the ugly tree...even I'm not that cruel."
"No I don't want love!" He shouted, startling the demon. "I just want a friend!"
Crowley stood motionless for half a second, then burst out laughing.
"A friend" he spat "a bloody friend. You have got to me kidding me. You summoned me, the most ruthless and bloodthirsty demon that has ever walked the earth to make a bloody friend?"
"You don't look so evil. Kinda short actually." Theodore countered.
"And you wonder why you're alone. Enough of this. Im outta here. You're own your own kiddo. There's a dive bar two miles that way" he said, thumb jerked over his shoulder "Summon me again and I'll jam a straw into your skull and drink you like a bloody Mary. Extra garlicky I imagine. You wants friends? Here's some free advice. Take a shower once in a while. And shave that...well I can't exactly call it a beard can I...eugh...humans." He clicked his fingers and...nothing.
Theodore smiled and sat himself down cross-legged on the ground. Crowley, incredulous, peered down, noticing for the first time the enormous devil's trap that Theodore had painted some minutes before.
"Now listen here you little runt. I don't know what you know about me but when I'm done with you you'll know more than anyone would want to know about knowing anything. Capiche?! Let me out NOW."
"Do you like Narwhals? I like Narwhals. They're kinda like the unicorns of the sea...were unicorns ever a real thing by the way? There's this cartoon on Youtube about a unicorn. It's great. Did you ever see that? Do they have Youtube in Hell? How do you watch anime if you don't have youtube? Torrents? Do you like anime-"
"I'm going to rip you a cornucopia of orifices you know that?!"
Theodore went on oblivious. | Beelzebub flashed into existence. He bellowed.
There was a stone floor. He spun around on all fours, tossing his head, searching. There was only smoky green light in every direction.
The room began to vibrate. A hazy figure became visible in the distance, a dark mass that stood and watched. Beelzebub charged.
Shattered rock flew into the air with each hoofbeat. Thunder erupted from above, and the green light grew thick. The room's vibrations blurred the floor.
Horned head collided with flesh. The dark figure flew backwards into a stone wall, where it crumpled.
The room stopped shaking and the thunder went quiet. Beelzebub moved forward, head down, sniffing.
"J- Jenny McCarthy? Nuts. I was trying to summon my cousin Bob." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | There he was. I still couldn't believe it.
A colossal being, he stood towering over me, a giant, his legs as thick as trunks and as long as I was tall. His flesh was made of a thick black mist, wisps of it circled him, shrouding him, concealing him. He looked almost like he was part of the darkness that filled the small, worn-down room.
The most striking part of him was his eyes. Eyes that made him look human. It wasn't really the eyes themselves, but more of the look they gave. A look of anger, a look of despair, a look of longing, a look of hope. I knew that look, it was the look I put on everyday. His eyes not only looked into my soul, but tugged at it, tearing it, bit by bit.
A year ago today I lost all that I had held dear to me in this world. My son's plane crashed over the Atlantic Ocean, he was on his way home to visit me. His mother when she heard the news killed herself in grief and on the same day my mother died of cancer, going off to join my father in a land far far away.
I was never the same after that. That incident turned me into the man I am today, and it's what brought him here.
Him. Feared by all. He stalks each and every one of us, follows us through our lives. Those who are fast, escape, but only for a while. Sooner or later he catches up to us, and when he does, he hits us right where it hurts. No one liked him, no one wanted him. He was powerful, bringing even the strongest of men to their knees in tears.
And today I was to meet him, and he was to be my friend.
I took his cold hand in mine, the mist started crawling up my arm, it stung, but it would not release itself.
I looked at him. He looked at me.
My only friend, and his name was Loneliness. | Beelzebub flashed into existence. He bellowed.
There was a stone floor. He spun around on all fours, tossing his head, searching. There was only smoky green light in every direction.
The room began to vibrate. A hazy figure became visible in the distance, a dark mass that stood and watched. Beelzebub charged.
Shattered rock flew into the air with each hoofbeat. Thunder erupted from above, and the green light grew thick. The room's vibrations blurred the floor.
Horned head collided with flesh. The dark figure flew backwards into a stone wall, where it crumpled.
The room stopped shaking and the thunder went quiet. Beelzebub moved forward, head down, sniffing.
"J- Jenny McCarthy? Nuts. I was trying to summon my cousin Bob." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | “More Nachos Azgal?” said Bryan as he opened the microwave door. Azgal pulled down his shades and in a state of nocturnal awareness said “Hell yeah” as Bryan smothered the tortilla chips in cheese. The ding of the microwave triggered Azgal to scramble to the kitchen where he pushed Bryan aside and crammed the nachos down his throat, plate and all.
“Damn Azgal, you know how to party” Azgal coughed up a few pieces of glass dish and then shambled back over to the couch that was covered in food crumbs and energy drink stains. “Silence mortal, I must acquire more souls”. Bryan sat down on the arm of the couch and poked his head over to the screen “You mean kills? Those are kills and they don’t actually count and soul reaping.”
Azgal slammed his fists down upon the controller and let out a hellfire from his mouth onto the television. “This digital amusement no longer serves me purpose. I believe that it is time we ordered more of that circular meat disk.”
Bryan pulled out his wallet and opened it to watch the fall of a five-dollar bill. “Sorry bud, we don’t have enough for pizza.”
Azgal cracked his knuckles and then formed his hands into the shape of a pyramid, placing them in front of himself “You mortals are so weak with your inter dimensional rituals. Allow me.”
A black orb appeared in front of him, right above the coffee table. Screams could be heard coming from its deepest depths and Azgal opened his hands further apart and the orb began to grow. Hundreds of pizzas came flying from the portal and they landed perfectly on the counters and tables, covered in only small of amounts of blood and hell fire.
Bryan looked around the room and slapped Azgal on the back “Nice one man. You are definitely not paying for booze tonight.”
Azgal ravaged through the boxes of pizza and stopped to look over at Bryan “Does this gathering require exotic dancers for our entertainment?”
“Hell yeah man,” screamed Bryan as he took his shirt off in party fashion.
Another black portal opened up before Azgal and what happened afterwards was known as the single greatest party in the entire universe. Sure, it left millions dead and might have destroyed a continent or two but in the grander scheme of things it was the best night of Bryan’s life.
| Beelzebub flashed into existence. He bellowed.
There was a stone floor. He spun around on all fours, tossing his head, searching. There was only smoky green light in every direction.
The room began to vibrate. A hazy figure became visible in the distance, a dark mass that stood and watched. Beelzebub charged.
Shattered rock flew into the air with each hoofbeat. Thunder erupted from above, and the green light grew thick. The room's vibrations blurred the floor.
Horned head collided with flesh. The dark figure flew backwards into a stone wall, where it crumpled.
The room stopped shaking and the thunder went quiet. Beelzebub moved forward, head down, sniffing.
"J- Jenny McCarthy? Nuts. I was trying to summon my cousin Bob." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | As the man finished his final intonation, the air itself seemed to invert on itself. The sacrifices, which had been so carefully arraigned, blubbered first with terror and then in simple unending agony.
The very air seemed to twist in on itself, and with an incomprehensible scream, unreality darkened and fused together. The man looked on.
*Who*
Still, the man looked on.
**DARES**
Blood stained hands reached up, lowering the hood of his cowl. His eyes, so steady, betrayed his emotion with a single tear. Into a myriad forest of eyes and writhing appendages he walked. Infinite screams poured around him, clawing at him, but he did not flinch.
"It is I"
The horror he had summoned with his dark incantation dwarfed the man. With words that oozed madness it spoke.
*Why do you summon me*
The man looked around him at the last remains of what had been his world. The sky, once an azure blue, was now a chaotic mockery of black and crimson. Buildings crumbled and fell around them, their architecture undone. A fine mist of blood covered all which had once been so bright and beautiful. *Not beautiful enough*, he thought, *not to me*.
Finally, the man looked up, his gaze piercing through the shroud of darkness, locked eyes with the horror, and spoke.
"I was lonely"
And the horror knew fear. | Beelzebub flashed into existence. He bellowed.
There was a stone floor. He spun around on all fours, tossing his head, searching. There was only smoky green light in every direction.
The room began to vibrate. A hazy figure became visible in the distance, a dark mass that stood and watched. Beelzebub charged.
Shattered rock flew into the air with each hoofbeat. Thunder erupted from above, and the green light grew thick. The room's vibrations blurred the floor.
Horned head collided with flesh. The dark figure flew backwards into a stone wall, where it crumpled.
The room stopped shaking and the thunder went quiet. Beelzebub moved forward, head down, sniffing.
"J- Jenny McCarthy? Nuts. I was trying to summon my cousin Bob." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | They say that to summon him, you need the blood of a hundred baby goats mixed with the sorrowful tears of a widow, and must sacrifice a six-year-old child on the altar to provide adequate sustenance for the devil's manifestation on this earth.
They're wrong. Because they don't get it like I do.
All you need to do to summon Lucifer is whisper your fears and doubts into the dark, and he will be there to listen. You won't see him, but he's always there. For everyone. For me.
Family used to be everything - in my family, at least. Dad cared for both of us since Mom died, and my big brother grew up as close to me as two brothers can get without crossing a line. We were everything to each other.
I walked away from all that. I know it's my fault; objectively, what I did to Dean was far worse than what he did to me, and I feel so guilty every day for how he must be feeling. Eating himself up from the inside just like I'm doing now.
I shouldn't do this. I know I shouldn't. I know I'm in a dark place and that means I'm a danger to myself and everyone around me. I might do something monumentally stupid that leads to horrendous consequences. For Dean. For everyone.
Probably not for me.
"Lucifer." I breathe into the shadows. "Lucifer, I know you're there."
He steps out, bathed in darkness, contained in a form that seems almost human if it were not for the skin that's cracked and peeling away in places like a coat of paint over rusty iron.
"Hello, Sam." He knows my name. Of course the devil knows my name. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I don't know. I wanted to talk so someone, I guess." I shift. I know I should send him away right now, but Heaven help me I can't bring myself to.
"I'll always be there to listen, Sam."
"I know."
Because that's part of the problem. I'm special. Most people, when they're at their weakest and they're talking to what they think is themselves, have no idea of the being watching them. But I'm not most people. I can sense the heaviness in the air when Lucifer stands near me.
He knows I can. So when I call him out on watching me, he lets me see him too.
"How's life in Hell?" I ask.
"It's Hell. What you'd expect, I suppose. The demons are so pathetic. Even worse than humans. Not you, of course, Sam." Lucifer crouches down, because I'm sitting. "You're different from everyone else. Always have been. Always will be."
His voice is soft and his hand is softer, running gently through my hair before he stands back up and looks around. "Where is this?"
"A barn. We keep animals in here, sometimes."
"I know that." He scrunches his nose. "It explains the smell. Why my Father would let his favorite son be birthed in one of these, I can never understand. Still. The poor thing was a victim of circumstance."
"You're talking about Jesus?"
"Of course I am. Sent down to Earth to befriend you all. Born in squalor, died in agony. You humans murdered the one chance you had at salvation. I must say, I did rejoice that day."
Apart from the two of us, the barn is empty. Silent. We're alone together, and Satan seems happy for it to stay that way.
I'm reminded of the time when, in this very same barn, shadows of massive wings were cast on the walls - and I'm reminded, again, that Lucifer was an angel. He still is, in a way.
I'm trembling a little. I can't help it, but he notices. Puts a hand to my forehead.
"Withdrawal symptoms. Still. Oh, what would Dean think? You know, Sam, they won't ever go away. Not for the rest of your life. You'll always be reminded of your little addiction until the day they lower you into your grave."
"I'm getting a cremation."
I have no idea where that came from, but Lucifer chuckles. He seems amused.
"Well, then I guess they'll never quite disappear, will they? Not for eternity. When you die, I'll take you down to Hell with me, and I'll surround you with so much of it you won't be able to resist."
If I could say one thing to anyone out there, it's the plea: don't do drugs. Oh no, it's not worth it.
"Better to just give in now. I could get some for you; I'd be back in a few seconds. Give into temptation. You know you want to, Sam."
I shut my mouth firmly and break eye contact. That gaze stares into my soul, and I'm afraid he might see the truth in there.
"Come on. Just give in. Say yes."
"No." You respond automatically. He takes a small step back.
"No? Not this time, then. But eventually."
"Get out." You've found resolve you didn't know you had, and in acknowledgement of that he nods his head towards you.
"I'll be here, Sam. Always. I will never leave you. Not like your father, not like Dean. You can trust me. I'll be your friend."
"Go away."
He's gone, and I'm alone again. Through the broken glass of the window, the sky is still dark outside. I've not yet stayed up the whole night.
I don't want to sleep. I don't want to dream.
I can't do this alone anymore.
So I strengthen my resolve, and pull out my phone before my treacherous mind fails on me. I know the number off by heart. I just hope he'll pick up when he sees who's calling.
Dean swears on the end of the phone when he answers. I suppose it's my fault for waking him up. I want to end the call, run off again, hide from what I know I have to do. But I can't; not this time.
"Dean, it's me."
"Sam? It's quarter past four."
Dean doesn't know about Lucifer. Yet.
I'm going to tell him.
"This is important."
*(Bonus upvotes for anyone who gets the reference.)* | Beelzebub flashed into existence. He bellowed.
There was a stone floor. He spun around on all fours, tossing his head, searching. There was only smoky green light in every direction.
The room began to vibrate. A hazy figure became visible in the distance, a dark mass that stood and watched. Beelzebub charged.
Shattered rock flew into the air with each hoofbeat. Thunder erupted from above, and the green light grew thick. The room's vibrations blurred the floor.
Horned head collided with flesh. The dark figure flew backwards into a stone wall, where it crumpled.
The room stopped shaking and the thunder went quiet. Beelzebub moved forward, head down, sniffing.
"J- Jenny McCarthy? Nuts. I was trying to summon my cousin Bob." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Mitchell stared nervously at the pentagram on his bedroom floor. he made sure everything was perfect for his new visitor. After arranging all the materials, Mitchell stood on the northernmost corner and began reciting the incantation. The floor beneath him twisted and morphed into a fiery black pit. From the pit rose an enormous beast. He towered over Mitchell with his giant muscles bulging out of his skin. His skin was like fire. He had a jutted chin and his mouth was twisted into a wicked smile.
"SPEAK, PUNY MORTAL. IT IS I BEEZLEBUB, RULER OF THE DAMNED AND LIEUTENANT OF LUCIFER, HIMSELF"
"Hello, Beezlebub, I'm Mitchell, but you can call me Mitch".
"WRETCHED HUMAN, DO NOT WASTE MY TIME! WHY HAST THOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just wanted to, you know, hangout."
"I CAN GRANT YOU ANYTHING Y-. Wait, What?"
"I just wanted to hangout with you, get to know you."
"I HAVE NO TIME FOR SUCH THINGS. WHY HAVE YOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just told you. I want to spend some time with you. My dog recently died so now it's just me and I feel kinda lonely"
"SO IT IS FRIENDS YOU DESIRE? I CAN GIVE YOU AS MANY FRIENDS AS A PERSON COULD HAVE, BUT IT WILL BE FOR
A PRICE: YOUR SO-"
"I don't want to make a deal. I just want to spend some time with you"
"I WILL NOT WASTE MY TIME WITH THIS. I WILL SEE YOU ON JUDGEMENT DAY"
A column of smoke arose from Bezzlebub's feet until it engulfed him entirely. As the smoke cleared, Mitchell saw Beezlebub still there with a look of disappointment on his face.
"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!"
"The spell will keep you here until you do as I wish or the sun rises, and that's in about 5 hours."
"NOBODY, COULD POSSIBLY SUMMON I, BEEZLEBUB, FOR NO REASON"
"Well, Firstly, it's "me, Beezlebub" not I. Secondly, I summoned you here because I suspect that nobody has tried to be your friend for a long time."
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK SUCH THINGS, IGNORANT FOOL. I AM THE LIEUTENANT OF SATAN HIMSE- ugh, You're right. Satan and I used to be the best of friends. After we took over Hell collecting Human souls was just so easy that Lucifer and I spent most of our time together. I guess things started to change when the Buddha was born."
Beezlebub sat on Mitchell's bed and continued "It got worse when Jesus and Mohammed were born. With all those people telling others not to be evil, collecting souls became a full time job. Things got harder and harder as humanity advanced. I thought things would get better after WWI but Satan spent so much time with that mustachioed, Nazi shithead, that I thought he was Satan's new best friend."
Mitchell put his hand on Beezlebub's massive shoulder. "I get that", he said "I used to have two best friends, but they got jobs, and wives and kids, and we just kind of drifted apart. They moved on with their lives and I just ... fell behind"
"Beezlebub looked at Mitchell, "You know Mitch, you're the first person in a thousand years to just talk to me. If I'm stuck here lets hangout"
Mitchell's face lit up "Cool! So what do you like to do?"
"Do you like collecting the souls of the innocent?"
"No, do you like playing video games?"
"Yeah. Do you have any EA games?"
Mitchell asked "Yeah, why?"
Beezlebub pointed at his chest and proudly said "I'm the CEO of EA"
Mitchell laughed and said "I got Battlefield 4, Let's play."
The two played all night. For the first time in a longtime both of them felt truly happy. When the sun rose Mitchell looked worriedly at Beezlebub. Beezlebub said, "Don't worry I'll see you next Friday"
"Why?! Am I going to die"
Beezlebub laughed, "No because I get off work early on Friday and I want to spend it with a friend."
| Beelzebub flashed into existence. He bellowed.
There was a stone floor. He spun around on all fours, tossing his head, searching. There was only smoky green light in every direction.
The room began to vibrate. A hazy figure became visible in the distance, a dark mass that stood and watched. Beelzebub charged.
Shattered rock flew into the air with each hoofbeat. Thunder erupted from above, and the green light grew thick. The room's vibrations blurred the floor.
Horned head collided with flesh. The dark figure flew backwards into a stone wall, where it crumpled.
The room stopped shaking and the thunder went quiet. Beelzebub moved forward, head down, sniffing.
"J- Jenny McCarthy? Nuts. I was trying to summon my cousin Bob." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "More tea Lucy?" The fallen angel sighed and reluctantly nodded. Brittney almost squealed at the interaction. Moving to Alaska with her parents, into her grannpappy's old house had left her without any friends to play with at the ripe age of 5.
Her father had insisted she read more to occupy her time, while he worked in his office. Her books, although beautifully illustrated, were boring. Her grannpappy's books on the other hand... the ones she found in the attic, were more to her liking. The pictures weren't colored except for shades of white, black and red. She couldn't read it really, just the stuff inbetween the lines, phonics written in pen.
She had been reading out loud to herself, basically the only way she knew how, when the lumbering creature appeared to her in her bedroom, in a flash of fire, smoke and a smell of what Brittney could only identify as daddy farts. At first Brittney thought he was a dog by the fur that marked his waist down, but the wings and hooves dispelled that notion. By the way in which he appeared to her, she knew he was magic, like disney magic, he had to be a fairy godmother or a genie! "Hello, little one." Rumbled a noise from the demons face, his voice box sounded alot like metal grinding together, amongst screaming souls which was his breathe.
Brittney's eyes were wide "How many wishes do I get!" Not wasting any moments for formalities. The beasts wings shuddered and what could be identified as a smile smeared his face. "One wish, at a cost of your immort-"
"I want you to play with me and be my friend, forever!" Screamed Brittney. *POOF*. In another flare of fire, smoke and daddy farts, they were in a large red stone cavern without an entrance or exit. Filled with all manner or childrens toys, as the smoke cleared and Brittney's excitement burst forth in the form of high pitch squeals and jumping up and down while simultaneously tugging the demon's wings.
The great beast looked around and involuntarily let out a "Fuck".
Edit: formatting. Yay! my first WP.
Edit: Thank you all for the kind words and the sweet, sweet karma. This is my first prompt so feedback would be cool, and I'm not much of a writer. Corrections would be cool too. | Beelzebub flashed into existence. He bellowed.
There was a stone floor. He spun around on all fours, tossing his head, searching. There was only smoky green light in every direction.
The room began to vibrate. A hazy figure became visible in the distance, a dark mass that stood and watched. Beelzebub charged.
Shattered rock flew into the air with each hoofbeat. Thunder erupted from above, and the green light grew thick. The room's vibrations blurred the floor.
Horned head collided with flesh. The dark figure flew backwards into a stone wall, where it crumpled.
The room stopped shaking and the thunder went quiet. Beelzebub moved forward, head down, sniffing.
"J- Jenny McCarthy? Nuts. I was trying to summon my cousin Bob." | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | “More Nachos Azgal?” said Bryan as he opened the microwave door. Azgal pulled down his shades and in a state of nocturnal awareness said “Hell yeah” as Bryan smothered the tortilla chips in cheese. The ding of the microwave triggered Azgal to scramble to the kitchen where he pushed Bryan aside and crammed the nachos down his throat, plate and all.
“Damn Azgal, you know how to party” Azgal coughed up a few pieces of glass dish and then shambled back over to the couch that was covered in food crumbs and energy drink stains. “Silence mortal, I must acquire more souls”. Bryan sat down on the arm of the couch and poked his head over to the screen “You mean kills? Those are kills and they don’t actually count and soul reaping.”
Azgal slammed his fists down upon the controller and let out a hellfire from his mouth onto the television. “This digital amusement no longer serves me purpose. I believe that it is time we ordered more of that circular meat disk.”
Bryan pulled out his wallet and opened it to watch the fall of a five-dollar bill. “Sorry bud, we don’t have enough for pizza.”
Azgal cracked his knuckles and then formed his hands into the shape of a pyramid, placing them in front of himself “You mortals are so weak with your inter dimensional rituals. Allow me.”
A black orb appeared in front of him, right above the coffee table. Screams could be heard coming from its deepest depths and Azgal opened his hands further apart and the orb began to grow. Hundreds of pizzas came flying from the portal and they landed perfectly on the counters and tables, covered in only small of amounts of blood and hell fire.
Bryan looked around the room and slapped Azgal on the back “Nice one man. You are definitely not paying for booze tonight.”
Azgal ravaged through the boxes of pizza and stopped to look over at Bryan “Does this gathering require exotic dancers for our entertainment?”
“Hell yeah man,” screamed Bryan as he took his shirt off in party fashion.
Another black portal opened up before Azgal and what happened afterwards was known as the single greatest party in the entire universe. Sure, it left millions dead and might have destroyed a continent or two but in the grander scheme of things it was the best night of Bryan’s life.
| I sat alone, bathed in the warm candlelight. That night was the night, the one I had been preparing myself for year after year. Everything was finally in its proper place, and not without great effort. I went through everything one last time, concentrating with all my might to bring back every little detail to the front of my mind. The countless days spent flipping through page after page, filling myself to the brim with untold knowledge. Everything had to be perfect, I only had one chance.
"No mistakes. Not this time." This was the only thought in my head as I double and triple checked the items I had prepared. Thousands, maybe even tens of thousands, of dollars spent on everything before me. I took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the hot air swirling around me. The burning wax of the candle mixing with the scent of the meat I had prepared for tribute. It smelt sweet, almost sickeningly so.
"No Mistakes. Not this time." The thought echoed through my mind again, this time a statement instead of a command. My preparations WERE complete. I opened the ancient tome on the table in front of me and ran my fingers across the runes, relishing in the rough texture. As I began to speak the ritual prayer aloud, the characters on the page glowed one after another, following my chant. After a few seconds they flew of the page, swirling around me like fireflies. It felt like an eternity was passing by, as though Chronos himself was giving me ample time to make a mistake. Not today. Today he would come. I spoke his name, the final word of the prayer.
"Tzel'kren!" My voice exploded with power, and the world itself shuddered around me. The earth below me shook in fear. The sky covered itself in thick clouds, as though to cover the eyes of God. The wind ran in all directions, making it hard to breath, but nothing I couldn't handle. A year and a half in the Himalayas searching for the manuscript in my hands had prepared me for more than this.
That was when I saw it, His hand tearing through the sigil I had prepared for Him. It was twisted and gnarled, fingers sprouting from it in every direction almost at random. The fingers themselves followed a similar pattern, the number and direction of His joints seemingly decided with no obvious logical pattern. His arm continued to His first elbow, socketed within was a surprisingly human eye twitching wildly, scanning every inch of its surroundings. Five more of these joints followed, with two more entire arms after them. His arms slithered through the air with an otherworldly grace, guiding his hands to the ground in a mesmerizing spiral. As his fingers took root in the earth the wind picked up violently before quickly falling still again. The Earth's wail sent shivers down my spine. Whether it was anticipation or some sort of primal fear I may never know. His voice began to echo through my mind as his head arose from the void. He spoke in a language I had never heard before, but I understood every word.
"I AM THE SHADOW IN THE NIGHT. I AM THE VOID BETWEEN THE STARS. I AM THE NIGHTMARE OF THE GODS." His eyeless visage rose before me, his head encased is something resembling porcelain or bone, His writing flesh peeking out from the spaces between the individual plates.
"I AM ALL THAT EVER WAS. I AM ALL THAT IS. I AM ALL THAT WILL EVER BE." His body rose up, the source of his arms finally revealing itself, nestling themselves between the blindingly white plates that continued to His waist. They were less solid here, cracks spread from where his arms appeared to have broken out from beneath them. Each piece slid around his torso slowly, like the plates of the earth. His flesh underneath flowed like magma, each sinew twisting endlessly in a way that was difficult to comprehend.
"I AM THE BUTCHER OF TRUTH. I AM THE UNRAVELER OF TIME. I AM THE DEVOURER OF HOPE." The twisting underneath His plates continued downward, each sinew growing larger and becoming one of a mass of tendrils spinning endlessly beneath him. Each one reached out from his portal and grabbed its edge, forcing it closed. There he stood, if that's even the correct word to describe it, before me. I could see the candle in front of me reflecting off of His shining face. I could see all of his eyes spin to look at me. I made an effort to meet them, but after a difficulty in deciding which one to look at specifically I made the choice to look him in his "face." I could see my eyes, shining in the candlelight, in His reflection. I felt like this was a reasonable compromise.
"I AM TZEL'KREN! WHAT COMPELS YOU TO SPEAK MY NAME, WORM!? WHAT DO YOU DARE ASK OF ME?!" He bellowed into my mind, blowing my own thoughts away with the force of His voice. I tried to speak.
"Hi, my name is Jo-" My voice cracked on the first syllable of my name. Shit. Terrible first impression. I attempted to compose myself, coughing loudly to clear my throat before making a second attempt.
"Hello, my name is Joshua. Nice to meet you!" I shifted a bit in my chair as I spoke, nervousness perhaps.
"Um, yeah, so, uh...." I drifted off a bit, before looking at what I had prepared on the table in front of me. Two bottles of wine standing tall on the table.
"Oh yeah! Do you prefer Cabernet or Chardonnay?" His head twisted to the side slightly upon hearing that. Disappointment maybe?
"Oh I also have Pinot Grigio too. Yeah you seem like a Pinot sort of guy, ha, yeah. For sure." I got about halfway through a fist tap to his shoulder before pulling my hand back awkwardly. Way too friendly, that would have been super weird. I decided to wait until after the wine. I got up from my chair, my knees bumping the table on my way up knocking over one of the glasses. Lucky I hadn't poured any wine yet. So stupid. The ritual went so well too, I couldn't afford to be a klutz now. I needed to pull it together, this was the real deal.
"I DON'T... WHAT?! I AM TZEL'KREN! I AM THE UNMAKER!"
"Well how about you unmake frown and make it right on upside down." I giggled quietly at my joke until I realized it wasn't even even a joke. Also He didn't even really have a mouth, so it didn't even make any sense. That was fucking retarded, in hindsight. I focused on resetting the table before worrying about it, he probably didn't even notice how stupid it was anyway. "Oh, how rude of me. Have a seat." I pulled out the chair I had prepared on His side of the table. He stared at me silently for a moment before slithering over the chair, consuming it within the endless thresher that was his lower body. The chair didn't even stand a chance.
"DO YOU NOT FEAR ME? I DON'T UNDERSTAND." His rear arm reached down and picked up the steak I had prepared just an hour earlier. I really hoped it hadn't gone cold in the time it took Him to rise from the hole to the strange forever he tore in the fabric of space and time. "What even is this?" His voice softened now, no longer tearing through my mind with each word. Now was my chance, I had to show him I was cool too.
"Oh that's good stuff," I set his wine glass back upright next to the plate I had set out. The earlier accident with the table had knocked the silverware all out of order. I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed considering how many etiquette books I had bought to make sure I had all the forks in the right order. He seemed like a finger-food sort of guy though, considering he just grabbed it straight from the plate, so I didn't let it bother me. "100% Kobe beef. Imported straight from Japan. Um. Oh, I got some nice sauce for it too." I pointed towards the bottle on the center of the table, next to the candelabra and opposite the wine.
-Continued as reply.-
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Mitchell stared nervously at the pentagram on his bedroom floor. he made sure everything was perfect for his new visitor. After arranging all the materials, Mitchell stood on the northernmost corner and began reciting the incantation. The floor beneath him twisted and morphed into a fiery black pit. From the pit rose an enormous beast. He towered over Mitchell with his giant muscles bulging out of his skin. His skin was like fire. He had a jutted chin and his mouth was twisted into a wicked smile.
"SPEAK, PUNY MORTAL. IT IS I BEEZLEBUB, RULER OF THE DAMNED AND LIEUTENANT OF LUCIFER, HIMSELF"
"Hello, Beezlebub, I'm Mitchell, but you can call me Mitch".
"WRETCHED HUMAN, DO NOT WASTE MY TIME! WHY HAST THOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just wanted to, you know, hangout."
"I CAN GRANT YOU ANYTHING Y-. Wait, What?"
"I just wanted to hangout with you, get to know you."
"I HAVE NO TIME FOR SUCH THINGS. WHY HAVE YOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just told you. I want to spend some time with you. My dog recently died so now it's just me and I feel kinda lonely"
"SO IT IS FRIENDS YOU DESIRE? I CAN GIVE YOU AS MANY FRIENDS AS A PERSON COULD HAVE, BUT IT WILL BE FOR
A PRICE: YOUR SO-"
"I don't want to make a deal. I just want to spend some time with you"
"I WILL NOT WASTE MY TIME WITH THIS. I WILL SEE YOU ON JUDGEMENT DAY"
A column of smoke arose from Bezzlebub's feet until it engulfed him entirely. As the smoke cleared, Mitchell saw Beezlebub still there with a look of disappointment on his face.
"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!"
"The spell will keep you here until you do as I wish or the sun rises, and that's in about 5 hours."
"NOBODY, COULD POSSIBLY SUMMON I, BEEZLEBUB, FOR NO REASON"
"Well, Firstly, it's "me, Beezlebub" not I. Secondly, I summoned you here because I suspect that nobody has tried to be your friend for a long time."
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK SUCH THINGS, IGNORANT FOOL. I AM THE LIEUTENANT OF SATAN HIMSE- ugh, You're right. Satan and I used to be the best of friends. After we took over Hell collecting Human souls was just so easy that Lucifer and I spent most of our time together. I guess things started to change when the Buddha was born."
Beezlebub sat on Mitchell's bed and continued "It got worse when Jesus and Mohammed were born. With all those people telling others not to be evil, collecting souls became a full time job. Things got harder and harder as humanity advanced. I thought things would get better after WWI but Satan spent so much time with that mustachioed, Nazi shithead, that I thought he was Satan's new best friend."
Mitchell put his hand on Beezlebub's massive shoulder. "I get that", he said "I used to have two best friends, but they got jobs, and wives and kids, and we just kind of drifted apart. They moved on with their lives and I just ... fell behind"
"Beezlebub looked at Mitchell, "You know Mitch, you're the first person in a thousand years to just talk to me. If I'm stuck here lets hangout"
Mitchell's face lit up "Cool! So what do you like to do?"
"Do you like collecting the souls of the innocent?"
"No, do you like playing video games?"
"Yeah. Do you have any EA games?"
Mitchell asked "Yeah, why?"
Beezlebub pointed at his chest and proudly said "I'm the CEO of EA"
Mitchell laughed and said "I got Battlefield 4, Let's play."
The two played all night. For the first time in a longtime both of them felt truly happy. When the sun rose Mitchell looked worriedly at Beezlebub. Beezlebub said, "Don't worry I'll see you next Friday"
"Why?! Am I going to die"
Beezlebub laughed, "No because I get off work early on Friday and I want to spend it with a friend."
| I sat alone, bathed in the warm candlelight. That night was the night, the one I had been preparing myself for year after year. Everything was finally in its proper place, and not without great effort. I went through everything one last time, concentrating with all my might to bring back every little detail to the front of my mind. The countless days spent flipping through page after page, filling myself to the brim with untold knowledge. Everything had to be perfect, I only had one chance.
"No mistakes. Not this time." This was the only thought in my head as I double and triple checked the items I had prepared. Thousands, maybe even tens of thousands, of dollars spent on everything before me. I took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the hot air swirling around me. The burning wax of the candle mixing with the scent of the meat I had prepared for tribute. It smelt sweet, almost sickeningly so.
"No Mistakes. Not this time." The thought echoed through my mind again, this time a statement instead of a command. My preparations WERE complete. I opened the ancient tome on the table in front of me and ran my fingers across the runes, relishing in the rough texture. As I began to speak the ritual prayer aloud, the characters on the page glowed one after another, following my chant. After a few seconds they flew of the page, swirling around me like fireflies. It felt like an eternity was passing by, as though Chronos himself was giving me ample time to make a mistake. Not today. Today he would come. I spoke his name, the final word of the prayer.
"Tzel'kren!" My voice exploded with power, and the world itself shuddered around me. The earth below me shook in fear. The sky covered itself in thick clouds, as though to cover the eyes of God. The wind ran in all directions, making it hard to breath, but nothing I couldn't handle. A year and a half in the Himalayas searching for the manuscript in my hands had prepared me for more than this.
That was when I saw it, His hand tearing through the sigil I had prepared for Him. It was twisted and gnarled, fingers sprouting from it in every direction almost at random. The fingers themselves followed a similar pattern, the number and direction of His joints seemingly decided with no obvious logical pattern. His arm continued to His first elbow, socketed within was a surprisingly human eye twitching wildly, scanning every inch of its surroundings. Five more of these joints followed, with two more entire arms after them. His arms slithered through the air with an otherworldly grace, guiding his hands to the ground in a mesmerizing spiral. As his fingers took root in the earth the wind picked up violently before quickly falling still again. The Earth's wail sent shivers down my spine. Whether it was anticipation or some sort of primal fear I may never know. His voice began to echo through my mind as his head arose from the void. He spoke in a language I had never heard before, but I understood every word.
"I AM THE SHADOW IN THE NIGHT. I AM THE VOID BETWEEN THE STARS. I AM THE NIGHTMARE OF THE GODS." His eyeless visage rose before me, his head encased is something resembling porcelain or bone, His writing flesh peeking out from the spaces between the individual plates.
"I AM ALL THAT EVER WAS. I AM ALL THAT IS. I AM ALL THAT WILL EVER BE." His body rose up, the source of his arms finally revealing itself, nestling themselves between the blindingly white plates that continued to His waist. They were less solid here, cracks spread from where his arms appeared to have broken out from beneath them. Each piece slid around his torso slowly, like the plates of the earth. His flesh underneath flowed like magma, each sinew twisting endlessly in a way that was difficult to comprehend.
"I AM THE BUTCHER OF TRUTH. I AM THE UNRAVELER OF TIME. I AM THE DEVOURER OF HOPE." The twisting underneath His plates continued downward, each sinew growing larger and becoming one of a mass of tendrils spinning endlessly beneath him. Each one reached out from his portal and grabbed its edge, forcing it closed. There he stood, if that's even the correct word to describe it, before me. I could see the candle in front of me reflecting off of His shining face. I could see all of his eyes spin to look at me. I made an effort to meet them, but after a difficulty in deciding which one to look at specifically I made the choice to look him in his "face." I could see my eyes, shining in the candlelight, in His reflection. I felt like this was a reasonable compromise.
"I AM TZEL'KREN! WHAT COMPELS YOU TO SPEAK MY NAME, WORM!? WHAT DO YOU DARE ASK OF ME?!" He bellowed into my mind, blowing my own thoughts away with the force of His voice. I tried to speak.
"Hi, my name is Jo-" My voice cracked on the first syllable of my name. Shit. Terrible first impression. I attempted to compose myself, coughing loudly to clear my throat before making a second attempt.
"Hello, my name is Joshua. Nice to meet you!" I shifted a bit in my chair as I spoke, nervousness perhaps.
"Um, yeah, so, uh...." I drifted off a bit, before looking at what I had prepared on the table in front of me. Two bottles of wine standing tall on the table.
"Oh yeah! Do you prefer Cabernet or Chardonnay?" His head twisted to the side slightly upon hearing that. Disappointment maybe?
"Oh I also have Pinot Grigio too. Yeah you seem like a Pinot sort of guy, ha, yeah. For sure." I got about halfway through a fist tap to his shoulder before pulling my hand back awkwardly. Way too friendly, that would have been super weird. I decided to wait until after the wine. I got up from my chair, my knees bumping the table on my way up knocking over one of the glasses. Lucky I hadn't poured any wine yet. So stupid. The ritual went so well too, I couldn't afford to be a klutz now. I needed to pull it together, this was the real deal.
"I DON'T... WHAT?! I AM TZEL'KREN! I AM THE UNMAKER!"
"Well how about you unmake frown and make it right on upside down." I giggled quietly at my joke until I realized it wasn't even even a joke. Also He didn't even really have a mouth, so it didn't even make any sense. That was fucking retarded, in hindsight. I focused on resetting the table before worrying about it, he probably didn't even notice how stupid it was anyway. "Oh, how rude of me. Have a seat." I pulled out the chair I had prepared on His side of the table. He stared at me silently for a moment before slithering over the chair, consuming it within the endless thresher that was his lower body. The chair didn't even stand a chance.
"DO YOU NOT FEAR ME? I DON'T UNDERSTAND." His rear arm reached down and picked up the steak I had prepared just an hour earlier. I really hoped it hadn't gone cold in the time it took Him to rise from the hole to the strange forever he tore in the fabric of space and time. "What even is this?" His voice softened now, no longer tearing through my mind with each word. Now was my chance, I had to show him I was cool too.
"Oh that's good stuff," I set his wine glass back upright next to the plate I had set out. The earlier accident with the table had knocked the silverware all out of order. I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed considering how many etiquette books I had bought to make sure I had all the forks in the right order. He seemed like a finger-food sort of guy though, considering he just grabbed it straight from the plate, so I didn't let it bother me. "100% Kobe beef. Imported straight from Japan. Um. Oh, I got some nice sauce for it too." I pointed towards the bottle on the center of the table, next to the candelabra and opposite the wine.
-Continued as reply.-
| |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | “More Nachos Azgal?” said Bryan as he opened the microwave door. Azgal pulled down his shades and in a state of nocturnal awareness said “Hell yeah” as Bryan smothered the tortilla chips in cheese. The ding of the microwave triggered Azgal to scramble to the kitchen where he pushed Bryan aside and crammed the nachos down his throat, plate and all.
“Damn Azgal, you know how to party” Azgal coughed up a few pieces of glass dish and then shambled back over to the couch that was covered in food crumbs and energy drink stains. “Silence mortal, I must acquire more souls”. Bryan sat down on the arm of the couch and poked his head over to the screen “You mean kills? Those are kills and they don’t actually count and soul reaping.”
Azgal slammed his fists down upon the controller and let out a hellfire from his mouth onto the television. “This digital amusement no longer serves me purpose. I believe that it is time we ordered more of that circular meat disk.”
Bryan pulled out his wallet and opened it to watch the fall of a five-dollar bill. “Sorry bud, we don’t have enough for pizza.”
Azgal cracked his knuckles and then formed his hands into the shape of a pyramid, placing them in front of himself “You mortals are so weak with your inter dimensional rituals. Allow me.”
A black orb appeared in front of him, right above the coffee table. Screams could be heard coming from its deepest depths and Azgal opened his hands further apart and the orb began to grow. Hundreds of pizzas came flying from the portal and they landed perfectly on the counters and tables, covered in only small of amounts of blood and hell fire.
Bryan looked around the room and slapped Azgal on the back “Nice one man. You are definitely not paying for booze tonight.”
Azgal ravaged through the boxes of pizza and stopped to look over at Bryan “Does this gathering require exotic dancers for our entertainment?”
“Hell yeah man,” screamed Bryan as he took his shirt off in party fashion.
Another black portal opened up before Azgal and what happened afterwards was known as the single greatest party in the entire universe. Sure, it left millions dead and might have destroyed a continent or two but in the grander scheme of things it was the best night of Bryan’s life.
| The bones of a black cat, graveyard dirt and an old polaroid of himself. An odd list of ingredients, diligently placed inside an old pine box. The crossroads were bathed in the glow of a crescent moon, the yarrow flowers reflecting its soft light. He was ready.
"Et ad congregandum...eos coram me" he muttered, the ancient words of a long dead language catching slightly in his throat. A pause. A deep breath and...nothing.
"Nothing...All this for nothing...I can't do anything right..." He stared up at the moon, wondering if it was as lonely as he was. Then something out the corner of his eye...
"Hello boys...oh. Wait. You're not moose. And you're far too ugly to be tinkerbell. Who in hell are you sunshine and why did you summon me?"
A tickle at the back of his throat, he forced the words out.
"My names Theodore. You must be the King of Hell."
"My my aren't we clever. The name's Crowley, you can cut all that 'King of Hell' crap. Just tell me what you want. You know I don't usually handle these kind of deals personally anymore...but well. A soul's a soul I guess. What'll be. Riches? Beauty? A new Lamborghini with matching supermodel? Well. Spit it out."
"I urr...I don't want any of that."
"Well I cant make anyone fall in love with you. Aladdin rules. Besides you've had one two many falls from the ugly tree...even I'm not that cruel."
"No I don't want love!" He shouted, startling the demon. "I just want a friend!"
Crowley stood motionless for half a second, then burst out laughing.
"A friend" he spat "a bloody friend. You have got to me kidding me. You summoned me, the most ruthless and bloodthirsty demon that has ever walked the earth to make a bloody friend?"
"You don't look so evil. Kinda short actually." Theodore countered.
"And you wonder why you're alone. Enough of this. Im outta here. You're own your own kiddo. There's a dive bar two miles that way" he said, thumb jerked over his shoulder "Summon me again and I'll jam a straw into your skull and drink you like a bloody Mary. Extra garlicky I imagine. You wants friends? Here's some free advice. Take a shower once in a while. And shave that...well I can't exactly call it a beard can I...eugh...humans." He clicked his fingers and...nothing.
Theodore smiled and sat himself down cross-legged on the ground. Crowley, incredulous, peered down, noticing for the first time the enormous devil's trap that Theodore had painted some minutes before.
"Now listen here you little runt. I don't know what you know about me but when I'm done with you you'll know more than anyone would want to know about knowing anything. Capiche?! Let me out NOW."
"Do you like Narwhals? I like Narwhals. They're kinda like the unicorns of the sea...were unicorns ever a real thing by the way? There's this cartoon on Youtube about a unicorn. It's great. Did you ever see that? Do they have Youtube in Hell? How do you watch anime if you don't have youtube? Torrents? Do you like anime-"
"I'm going to rip you a cornucopia of orifices you know that?!"
Theodore went on oblivious. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Mitchell stared nervously at the pentagram on his bedroom floor. he made sure everything was perfect for his new visitor. After arranging all the materials, Mitchell stood on the northernmost corner and began reciting the incantation. The floor beneath him twisted and morphed into a fiery black pit. From the pit rose an enormous beast. He towered over Mitchell with his giant muscles bulging out of his skin. His skin was like fire. He had a jutted chin and his mouth was twisted into a wicked smile.
"SPEAK, PUNY MORTAL. IT IS I BEEZLEBUB, RULER OF THE DAMNED AND LIEUTENANT OF LUCIFER, HIMSELF"
"Hello, Beezlebub, I'm Mitchell, but you can call me Mitch".
"WRETCHED HUMAN, DO NOT WASTE MY TIME! WHY HAST THOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just wanted to, you know, hangout."
"I CAN GRANT YOU ANYTHING Y-. Wait, What?"
"I just wanted to hangout with you, get to know you."
"I HAVE NO TIME FOR SUCH THINGS. WHY HAVE YOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just told you. I want to spend some time with you. My dog recently died so now it's just me and I feel kinda lonely"
"SO IT IS FRIENDS YOU DESIRE? I CAN GIVE YOU AS MANY FRIENDS AS A PERSON COULD HAVE, BUT IT WILL BE FOR
A PRICE: YOUR SO-"
"I don't want to make a deal. I just want to spend some time with you"
"I WILL NOT WASTE MY TIME WITH THIS. I WILL SEE YOU ON JUDGEMENT DAY"
A column of smoke arose from Bezzlebub's feet until it engulfed him entirely. As the smoke cleared, Mitchell saw Beezlebub still there with a look of disappointment on his face.
"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!"
"The spell will keep you here until you do as I wish or the sun rises, and that's in about 5 hours."
"NOBODY, COULD POSSIBLY SUMMON I, BEEZLEBUB, FOR NO REASON"
"Well, Firstly, it's "me, Beezlebub" not I. Secondly, I summoned you here because I suspect that nobody has tried to be your friend for a long time."
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK SUCH THINGS, IGNORANT FOOL. I AM THE LIEUTENANT OF SATAN HIMSE- ugh, You're right. Satan and I used to be the best of friends. After we took over Hell collecting Human souls was just so easy that Lucifer and I spent most of our time together. I guess things started to change when the Buddha was born."
Beezlebub sat on Mitchell's bed and continued "It got worse when Jesus and Mohammed were born. With all those people telling others not to be evil, collecting souls became a full time job. Things got harder and harder as humanity advanced. I thought things would get better after WWI but Satan spent so much time with that mustachioed, Nazi shithead, that I thought he was Satan's new best friend."
Mitchell put his hand on Beezlebub's massive shoulder. "I get that", he said "I used to have two best friends, but they got jobs, and wives and kids, and we just kind of drifted apart. They moved on with their lives and I just ... fell behind"
"Beezlebub looked at Mitchell, "You know Mitch, you're the first person in a thousand years to just talk to me. If I'm stuck here lets hangout"
Mitchell's face lit up "Cool! So what do you like to do?"
"Do you like collecting the souls of the innocent?"
"No, do you like playing video games?"
"Yeah. Do you have any EA games?"
Mitchell asked "Yeah, why?"
Beezlebub pointed at his chest and proudly said "I'm the CEO of EA"
Mitchell laughed and said "I got Battlefield 4, Let's play."
The two played all night. For the first time in a longtime both of them felt truly happy. When the sun rose Mitchell looked worriedly at Beezlebub. Beezlebub said, "Don't worry I'll see you next Friday"
"Why?! Am I going to die"
Beezlebub laughed, "No because I get off work early on Friday and I want to spend it with a friend."
| The bones of a black cat, graveyard dirt and an old polaroid of himself. An odd list of ingredients, diligently placed inside an old pine box. The crossroads were bathed in the glow of a crescent moon, the yarrow flowers reflecting its soft light. He was ready.
"Et ad congregandum...eos coram me" he muttered, the ancient words of a long dead language catching slightly in his throat. A pause. A deep breath and...nothing.
"Nothing...All this for nothing...I can't do anything right..." He stared up at the moon, wondering if it was as lonely as he was. Then something out the corner of his eye...
"Hello boys...oh. Wait. You're not moose. And you're far too ugly to be tinkerbell. Who in hell are you sunshine and why did you summon me?"
A tickle at the back of his throat, he forced the words out.
"My names Theodore. You must be the King of Hell."
"My my aren't we clever. The name's Crowley, you can cut all that 'King of Hell' crap. Just tell me what you want. You know I don't usually handle these kind of deals personally anymore...but well. A soul's a soul I guess. What'll be. Riches? Beauty? A new Lamborghini with matching supermodel? Well. Spit it out."
"I urr...I don't want any of that."
"Well I cant make anyone fall in love with you. Aladdin rules. Besides you've had one two many falls from the ugly tree...even I'm not that cruel."
"No I don't want love!" He shouted, startling the demon. "I just want a friend!"
Crowley stood motionless for half a second, then burst out laughing.
"A friend" he spat "a bloody friend. You have got to me kidding me. You summoned me, the most ruthless and bloodthirsty demon that has ever walked the earth to make a bloody friend?"
"You don't look so evil. Kinda short actually." Theodore countered.
"And you wonder why you're alone. Enough of this. Im outta here. You're own your own kiddo. There's a dive bar two miles that way" he said, thumb jerked over his shoulder "Summon me again and I'll jam a straw into your skull and drink you like a bloody Mary. Extra garlicky I imagine. You wants friends? Here's some free advice. Take a shower once in a while. And shave that...well I can't exactly call it a beard can I...eugh...humans." He clicked his fingers and...nothing.
Theodore smiled and sat himself down cross-legged on the ground. Crowley, incredulous, peered down, noticing for the first time the enormous devil's trap that Theodore had painted some minutes before.
"Now listen here you little runt. I don't know what you know about me but when I'm done with you you'll know more than anyone would want to know about knowing anything. Capiche?! Let me out NOW."
"Do you like Narwhals? I like Narwhals. They're kinda like the unicorns of the sea...were unicorns ever a real thing by the way? There's this cartoon on Youtube about a unicorn. It's great. Did you ever see that? Do they have Youtube in Hell? How do you watch anime if you don't have youtube? Torrents? Do you like anime-"
"I'm going to rip you a cornucopia of orifices you know that?!"
Theodore went on oblivious. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | There he was. I still couldn't believe it.
A colossal being, he stood towering over me, a giant, his legs as thick as trunks and as long as I was tall. His flesh was made of a thick black mist, wisps of it circled him, shrouding him, concealing him. He looked almost like he was part of the darkness that filled the small, worn-down room.
The most striking part of him was his eyes. Eyes that made him look human. It wasn't really the eyes themselves, but more of the look they gave. A look of anger, a look of despair, a look of longing, a look of hope. I knew that look, it was the look I put on everyday. His eyes not only looked into my soul, but tugged at it, tearing it, bit by bit.
A year ago today I lost all that I had held dear to me in this world. My son's plane crashed over the Atlantic Ocean, he was on his way home to visit me. His mother when she heard the news killed herself in grief and on the same day my mother died of cancer, going off to join my father in a land far far away.
I was never the same after that. That incident turned me into the man I am today, and it's what brought him here.
Him. Feared by all. He stalks each and every one of us, follows us through our lives. Those who are fast, escape, but only for a while. Sooner or later he catches up to us, and when he does, he hits us right where it hurts. No one liked him, no one wanted him. He was powerful, bringing even the strongest of men to their knees in tears.
And today I was to meet him, and he was to be my friend.
I took his cold hand in mine, the mist started crawling up my arm, it stung, but it would not release itself.
I looked at him. He looked at me.
My only friend, and his name was Loneliness. | *Nothing bad could REALLY happen, could it? Nah,* I thought to myself as I scanned the shelves of the aisles of the massive library. I knew what I was searching for: a book on demonology. *Why not?,* I thought, *not like this stuff is for real, anyway. Just a bunch of old superstitious stuff.* I was bored out of my skull and all my friends were on the foreign exchange trip in Slovenia sponsored by our governments for the next month or so, so I thought it might be a decent idea to at least keep entertained for the next while, since I've already beaten all of my games and porn is boring as hell after I've diddled myself roughly seven times that day already.
Eventually, I finally came across the old and decrepit book, a black-and-red hardcover that was about to come off at the seams. On the front cover, no text was present; the only thing present on the front cover was the Sigil of Baphomet. I looked on the back cover, and it was blank. Even the spine was textless. Finally, I looked inside for information on the author, and all there was, was "Ave Satanas". Admittedly, at this point, I was more than a little entirely freaked out of my mind, but at the same time, it was so cool! A book on Satanic rituals? I looked inside and saw the text. All of it was in Latin. Each page had its own ritual, with the exception of a few that spilled over onto the next page. Finally, I saw a demonic summoning ritual, and I knew right then that I had to have this book.
As I walked up to the library's front desk, I could see the look of tired exasperation on the 30-something-year-old librarian's face. He was a quiet, very attractive man who wore a tired sweater and black-rimmed glasses. To be frank, I also knew I had to have him, but that's beside the point of this little story. I quietly placed the book on the desk, and he gave me a look like, "Okay, really now?", but I simply shrugged. He checked the book out and said, "You know, Victor, you've checked out some pretty weird books before, but this one really takes the cake."
"Yeah, but c'mon, Mitch, this is SO COOL, and I'm bored at home, but I could probably use the company instead of this book," I said back, with an inviting hint. He glared back at me with the single most intense "no" glare I've ever seen in my life. Finally, I broke the deathly silence with, "Well, at least I have something to do now. Maybe I'll even summon a demon to keep me company." Oh, how I now regret that last sentence.
I rushed home at what felt like light speed. Living in the city, that means I might've knocked a person or two over on their way to lunch. I stopped at the restaurant next to my apartment building and quickly grabbed a sub sandwich, and rushed next door and up the stairs to my apartment. I sat down at my dining table, unwrapped my delicious Srirachawich and opened the book carefully, considering how delicate this thing was. I rolled the pages past until I hit the ritual to summon my very own demon. I slowly munched my way through the foot-long sandwich until I read the very last line of the ritual.
At that point, I stood up and decided to go ahead do it. I took a piece of red chalk I had lying around in a set and drew an inverted pentagram on the ground, and sat down within it. I had the book set up in front of me, leaning against another pile of books I had lying about, some of which probably needed returned to that delicious hunk of a man at the library...er, anyway, back to the story. I began repeating the long Latin phrases required of me, slowly getting more and more entranced by the entire situation. At one point, I felt like I was selling my very soul to Satan himself. Finally, I ended the entire ritual with the phrase in the very back of the book: Ave Satanas.
The pentagram began to glow a mighty crimson glow. As soon as I saw this, I jumped out and got on the far side of the room, not wanting to be personally involved, but curious enough to still keep the pentagram in my line of sight. Finally, a glowing ball of energy appeared, levitating above the very center of the pentagram. The ball began to expand and finally exploded in a near-deafening boom. I managed to make out the apartments neighboring mine rattling. I heard someone below me scream, "HOLY SHIT, I THINK VICTOR FINALLY BLEW HIMSELF UP!" I ignored them, because right before my very eyes was the most frightening thing I'd ever seen: a 7-foot tall, muscular, humanoid being with horns on his head, blood-red skin, and a 5 o'clock shadow. Admittedly, I was slightly attracted to him, but that was quickly replaced by fear when he got his eyes on me.
"THE FUCK YOU WANT?" he bellowed at me, causing my nice plates to rattle.
"Uh, um, er, uh..." I stammered at him, subjected to the most mind-numbing fear I had ever experienced.
"THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? I'M A BUSY DEMON."
I was a little stunned at how profane he was, but then I remembered he was a giant scary demon. "Uh, I summoned you....I...uhh...admittedly, I have no idea what's going on," I slowly stammered back, trying not to let the sweat soak my every article of clothing.
"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" he said as he got within licking distance of my face.
"Uh....not really, no."
"I'M FUCKIN' POLRAY, GUARDIAN OF THE UNDERWORLD, AND I HAVE A **VERY** BUSY SCHEDULE!"
"Can I call you 'Ray'?"
"NO"
He looked over to my dining room table and saw my Srirachawich, which he proceeded to pick up and eat in one bite. "That was my lunch, asshole," I promptly said as my delicious wonderlunch made its way down whatever the demonic equivalent to an esophagus is.
"Not anymore, shitbreath. Damn, that was weak. I thought that red sauce was supposed to be hellpepper. What the hell is that?"
"Uh, um, Sriracha sauce, uh, sir."
"Well, it SUCKED MASSIVE DEMON DICK."
"Uh, thank you, sir, I guess."
At this point, I was more than a little confused at what on earth was ever going on.
"Well, I'm going back to Hell, because I got shit to do. I swear to the Dark Lord Himself, if you summon me again, I am taking you back with me, got it?"
"Uh, yes. Yes, I do."
"Good."
He disappeared from my room, along with the pentagram and my sandwich, in a red flash. I sat down at my table to contemplate what just happened.
I took the book back the next day. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | “More Nachos Azgal?” said Bryan as he opened the microwave door. Azgal pulled down his shades and in a state of nocturnal awareness said “Hell yeah” as Bryan smothered the tortilla chips in cheese. The ding of the microwave triggered Azgal to scramble to the kitchen where he pushed Bryan aside and crammed the nachos down his throat, plate and all.
“Damn Azgal, you know how to party” Azgal coughed up a few pieces of glass dish and then shambled back over to the couch that was covered in food crumbs and energy drink stains. “Silence mortal, I must acquire more souls”. Bryan sat down on the arm of the couch and poked his head over to the screen “You mean kills? Those are kills and they don’t actually count and soul reaping.”
Azgal slammed his fists down upon the controller and let out a hellfire from his mouth onto the television. “This digital amusement no longer serves me purpose. I believe that it is time we ordered more of that circular meat disk.”
Bryan pulled out his wallet and opened it to watch the fall of a five-dollar bill. “Sorry bud, we don’t have enough for pizza.”
Azgal cracked his knuckles and then formed his hands into the shape of a pyramid, placing them in front of himself “You mortals are so weak with your inter dimensional rituals. Allow me.”
A black orb appeared in front of him, right above the coffee table. Screams could be heard coming from its deepest depths and Azgal opened his hands further apart and the orb began to grow. Hundreds of pizzas came flying from the portal and they landed perfectly on the counters and tables, covered in only small of amounts of blood and hell fire.
Bryan looked around the room and slapped Azgal on the back “Nice one man. You are definitely not paying for booze tonight.”
Azgal ravaged through the boxes of pizza and stopped to look over at Bryan “Does this gathering require exotic dancers for our entertainment?”
“Hell yeah man,” screamed Bryan as he took his shirt off in party fashion.
Another black portal opened up before Azgal and what happened afterwards was known as the single greatest party in the entire universe. Sure, it left millions dead and might have destroyed a continent or two but in the grander scheme of things it was the best night of Bryan’s life.
| *Nothing bad could REALLY happen, could it? Nah,* I thought to myself as I scanned the shelves of the aisles of the massive library. I knew what I was searching for: a book on demonology. *Why not?,* I thought, *not like this stuff is for real, anyway. Just a bunch of old superstitious stuff.* I was bored out of my skull and all my friends were on the foreign exchange trip in Slovenia sponsored by our governments for the next month or so, so I thought it might be a decent idea to at least keep entertained for the next while, since I've already beaten all of my games and porn is boring as hell after I've diddled myself roughly seven times that day already.
Eventually, I finally came across the old and decrepit book, a black-and-red hardcover that was about to come off at the seams. On the front cover, no text was present; the only thing present on the front cover was the Sigil of Baphomet. I looked on the back cover, and it was blank. Even the spine was textless. Finally, I looked inside for information on the author, and all there was, was "Ave Satanas". Admittedly, at this point, I was more than a little entirely freaked out of my mind, but at the same time, it was so cool! A book on Satanic rituals? I looked inside and saw the text. All of it was in Latin. Each page had its own ritual, with the exception of a few that spilled over onto the next page. Finally, I saw a demonic summoning ritual, and I knew right then that I had to have this book.
As I walked up to the library's front desk, I could see the look of tired exasperation on the 30-something-year-old librarian's face. He was a quiet, very attractive man who wore a tired sweater and black-rimmed glasses. To be frank, I also knew I had to have him, but that's beside the point of this little story. I quietly placed the book on the desk, and he gave me a look like, "Okay, really now?", but I simply shrugged. He checked the book out and said, "You know, Victor, you've checked out some pretty weird books before, but this one really takes the cake."
"Yeah, but c'mon, Mitch, this is SO COOL, and I'm bored at home, but I could probably use the company instead of this book," I said back, with an inviting hint. He glared back at me with the single most intense "no" glare I've ever seen in my life. Finally, I broke the deathly silence with, "Well, at least I have something to do now. Maybe I'll even summon a demon to keep me company." Oh, how I now regret that last sentence.
I rushed home at what felt like light speed. Living in the city, that means I might've knocked a person or two over on their way to lunch. I stopped at the restaurant next to my apartment building and quickly grabbed a sub sandwich, and rushed next door and up the stairs to my apartment. I sat down at my dining table, unwrapped my delicious Srirachawich and opened the book carefully, considering how delicate this thing was. I rolled the pages past until I hit the ritual to summon my very own demon. I slowly munched my way through the foot-long sandwich until I read the very last line of the ritual.
At that point, I stood up and decided to go ahead do it. I took a piece of red chalk I had lying around in a set and drew an inverted pentagram on the ground, and sat down within it. I had the book set up in front of me, leaning against another pile of books I had lying about, some of which probably needed returned to that delicious hunk of a man at the library...er, anyway, back to the story. I began repeating the long Latin phrases required of me, slowly getting more and more entranced by the entire situation. At one point, I felt like I was selling my very soul to Satan himself. Finally, I ended the entire ritual with the phrase in the very back of the book: Ave Satanas.
The pentagram began to glow a mighty crimson glow. As soon as I saw this, I jumped out and got on the far side of the room, not wanting to be personally involved, but curious enough to still keep the pentagram in my line of sight. Finally, a glowing ball of energy appeared, levitating above the very center of the pentagram. The ball began to expand and finally exploded in a near-deafening boom. I managed to make out the apartments neighboring mine rattling. I heard someone below me scream, "HOLY SHIT, I THINK VICTOR FINALLY BLEW HIMSELF UP!" I ignored them, because right before my very eyes was the most frightening thing I'd ever seen: a 7-foot tall, muscular, humanoid being with horns on his head, blood-red skin, and a 5 o'clock shadow. Admittedly, I was slightly attracted to him, but that was quickly replaced by fear when he got his eyes on me.
"THE FUCK YOU WANT?" he bellowed at me, causing my nice plates to rattle.
"Uh, um, er, uh..." I stammered at him, subjected to the most mind-numbing fear I had ever experienced.
"THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? I'M A BUSY DEMON."
I was a little stunned at how profane he was, but then I remembered he was a giant scary demon. "Uh, I summoned you....I...uhh...admittedly, I have no idea what's going on," I slowly stammered back, trying not to let the sweat soak my every article of clothing.
"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" he said as he got within licking distance of my face.
"Uh....not really, no."
"I'M FUCKIN' POLRAY, GUARDIAN OF THE UNDERWORLD, AND I HAVE A **VERY** BUSY SCHEDULE!"
"Can I call you 'Ray'?"
"NO"
He looked over to my dining room table and saw my Srirachawich, which he proceeded to pick up and eat in one bite. "That was my lunch, asshole," I promptly said as my delicious wonderlunch made its way down whatever the demonic equivalent to an esophagus is.
"Not anymore, shitbreath. Damn, that was weak. I thought that red sauce was supposed to be hellpepper. What the hell is that?"
"Uh, um, Sriracha sauce, uh, sir."
"Well, it SUCKED MASSIVE DEMON DICK."
"Uh, thank you, sir, I guess."
At this point, I was more than a little confused at what on earth was ever going on.
"Well, I'm going back to Hell, because I got shit to do. I swear to the Dark Lord Himself, if you summon me again, I am taking you back with me, got it?"
"Uh, yes. Yes, I do."
"Good."
He disappeared from my room, along with the pentagram and my sandwich, in a red flash. I sat down at my table to contemplate what just happened.
I took the book back the next day. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | As the man finished his final intonation, the air itself seemed to invert on itself. The sacrifices, which had been so carefully arraigned, blubbered first with terror and then in simple unending agony.
The very air seemed to twist in on itself, and with an incomprehensible scream, unreality darkened and fused together. The man looked on.
*Who*
Still, the man looked on.
**DARES**
Blood stained hands reached up, lowering the hood of his cowl. His eyes, so steady, betrayed his emotion with a single tear. Into a myriad forest of eyes and writhing appendages he walked. Infinite screams poured around him, clawing at him, but he did not flinch.
"It is I"
The horror he had summoned with his dark incantation dwarfed the man. With words that oozed madness it spoke.
*Why do you summon me*
The man looked around him at the last remains of what had been his world. The sky, once an azure blue, was now a chaotic mockery of black and crimson. Buildings crumbled and fell around them, their architecture undone. A fine mist of blood covered all which had once been so bright and beautiful. *Not beautiful enough*, he thought, *not to me*.
Finally, the man looked up, his gaze piercing through the shroud of darkness, locked eyes with the horror, and spoke.
"I was lonely"
And the horror knew fear. | *Nothing bad could REALLY happen, could it? Nah,* I thought to myself as I scanned the shelves of the aisles of the massive library. I knew what I was searching for: a book on demonology. *Why not?,* I thought, *not like this stuff is for real, anyway. Just a bunch of old superstitious stuff.* I was bored out of my skull and all my friends were on the foreign exchange trip in Slovenia sponsored by our governments for the next month or so, so I thought it might be a decent idea to at least keep entertained for the next while, since I've already beaten all of my games and porn is boring as hell after I've diddled myself roughly seven times that day already.
Eventually, I finally came across the old and decrepit book, a black-and-red hardcover that was about to come off at the seams. On the front cover, no text was present; the only thing present on the front cover was the Sigil of Baphomet. I looked on the back cover, and it was blank. Even the spine was textless. Finally, I looked inside for information on the author, and all there was, was "Ave Satanas". Admittedly, at this point, I was more than a little entirely freaked out of my mind, but at the same time, it was so cool! A book on Satanic rituals? I looked inside and saw the text. All of it was in Latin. Each page had its own ritual, with the exception of a few that spilled over onto the next page. Finally, I saw a demonic summoning ritual, and I knew right then that I had to have this book.
As I walked up to the library's front desk, I could see the look of tired exasperation on the 30-something-year-old librarian's face. He was a quiet, very attractive man who wore a tired sweater and black-rimmed glasses. To be frank, I also knew I had to have him, but that's beside the point of this little story. I quietly placed the book on the desk, and he gave me a look like, "Okay, really now?", but I simply shrugged. He checked the book out and said, "You know, Victor, you've checked out some pretty weird books before, but this one really takes the cake."
"Yeah, but c'mon, Mitch, this is SO COOL, and I'm bored at home, but I could probably use the company instead of this book," I said back, with an inviting hint. He glared back at me with the single most intense "no" glare I've ever seen in my life. Finally, I broke the deathly silence with, "Well, at least I have something to do now. Maybe I'll even summon a demon to keep me company." Oh, how I now regret that last sentence.
I rushed home at what felt like light speed. Living in the city, that means I might've knocked a person or two over on their way to lunch. I stopped at the restaurant next to my apartment building and quickly grabbed a sub sandwich, and rushed next door and up the stairs to my apartment. I sat down at my dining table, unwrapped my delicious Srirachawich and opened the book carefully, considering how delicate this thing was. I rolled the pages past until I hit the ritual to summon my very own demon. I slowly munched my way through the foot-long sandwich until I read the very last line of the ritual.
At that point, I stood up and decided to go ahead do it. I took a piece of red chalk I had lying around in a set and drew an inverted pentagram on the ground, and sat down within it. I had the book set up in front of me, leaning against another pile of books I had lying about, some of which probably needed returned to that delicious hunk of a man at the library...er, anyway, back to the story. I began repeating the long Latin phrases required of me, slowly getting more and more entranced by the entire situation. At one point, I felt like I was selling my very soul to Satan himself. Finally, I ended the entire ritual with the phrase in the very back of the book: Ave Satanas.
The pentagram began to glow a mighty crimson glow. As soon as I saw this, I jumped out and got on the far side of the room, not wanting to be personally involved, but curious enough to still keep the pentagram in my line of sight. Finally, a glowing ball of energy appeared, levitating above the very center of the pentagram. The ball began to expand and finally exploded in a near-deafening boom. I managed to make out the apartments neighboring mine rattling. I heard someone below me scream, "HOLY SHIT, I THINK VICTOR FINALLY BLEW HIMSELF UP!" I ignored them, because right before my very eyes was the most frightening thing I'd ever seen: a 7-foot tall, muscular, humanoid being with horns on his head, blood-red skin, and a 5 o'clock shadow. Admittedly, I was slightly attracted to him, but that was quickly replaced by fear when he got his eyes on me.
"THE FUCK YOU WANT?" he bellowed at me, causing my nice plates to rattle.
"Uh, um, er, uh..." I stammered at him, subjected to the most mind-numbing fear I had ever experienced.
"THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? I'M A BUSY DEMON."
I was a little stunned at how profane he was, but then I remembered he was a giant scary demon. "Uh, I summoned you....I...uhh...admittedly, I have no idea what's going on," I slowly stammered back, trying not to let the sweat soak my every article of clothing.
"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" he said as he got within licking distance of my face.
"Uh....not really, no."
"I'M FUCKIN' POLRAY, GUARDIAN OF THE UNDERWORLD, AND I HAVE A **VERY** BUSY SCHEDULE!"
"Can I call you 'Ray'?"
"NO"
He looked over to my dining room table and saw my Srirachawich, which he proceeded to pick up and eat in one bite. "That was my lunch, asshole," I promptly said as my delicious wonderlunch made its way down whatever the demonic equivalent to an esophagus is.
"Not anymore, shitbreath. Damn, that was weak. I thought that red sauce was supposed to be hellpepper. What the hell is that?"
"Uh, um, Sriracha sauce, uh, sir."
"Well, it SUCKED MASSIVE DEMON DICK."
"Uh, thank you, sir, I guess."
At this point, I was more than a little confused at what on earth was ever going on.
"Well, I'm going back to Hell, because I got shit to do. I swear to the Dark Lord Himself, if you summon me again, I am taking you back with me, got it?"
"Uh, yes. Yes, I do."
"Good."
He disappeared from my room, along with the pentagram and my sandwich, in a red flash. I sat down at my table to contemplate what just happened.
I took the book back the next day. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | They say that to summon him, you need the blood of a hundred baby goats mixed with the sorrowful tears of a widow, and must sacrifice a six-year-old child on the altar to provide adequate sustenance for the devil's manifestation on this earth.
They're wrong. Because they don't get it like I do.
All you need to do to summon Lucifer is whisper your fears and doubts into the dark, and he will be there to listen. You won't see him, but he's always there. For everyone. For me.
Family used to be everything - in my family, at least. Dad cared for both of us since Mom died, and my big brother grew up as close to me as two brothers can get without crossing a line. We were everything to each other.
I walked away from all that. I know it's my fault; objectively, what I did to Dean was far worse than what he did to me, and I feel so guilty every day for how he must be feeling. Eating himself up from the inside just like I'm doing now.
I shouldn't do this. I know I shouldn't. I know I'm in a dark place and that means I'm a danger to myself and everyone around me. I might do something monumentally stupid that leads to horrendous consequences. For Dean. For everyone.
Probably not for me.
"Lucifer." I breathe into the shadows. "Lucifer, I know you're there."
He steps out, bathed in darkness, contained in a form that seems almost human if it were not for the skin that's cracked and peeling away in places like a coat of paint over rusty iron.
"Hello, Sam." He knows my name. Of course the devil knows my name. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I don't know. I wanted to talk so someone, I guess." I shift. I know I should send him away right now, but Heaven help me I can't bring myself to.
"I'll always be there to listen, Sam."
"I know."
Because that's part of the problem. I'm special. Most people, when they're at their weakest and they're talking to what they think is themselves, have no idea of the being watching them. But I'm not most people. I can sense the heaviness in the air when Lucifer stands near me.
He knows I can. So when I call him out on watching me, he lets me see him too.
"How's life in Hell?" I ask.
"It's Hell. What you'd expect, I suppose. The demons are so pathetic. Even worse than humans. Not you, of course, Sam." Lucifer crouches down, because I'm sitting. "You're different from everyone else. Always have been. Always will be."
His voice is soft and his hand is softer, running gently through my hair before he stands back up and looks around. "Where is this?"
"A barn. We keep animals in here, sometimes."
"I know that." He scrunches his nose. "It explains the smell. Why my Father would let his favorite son be birthed in one of these, I can never understand. Still. The poor thing was a victim of circumstance."
"You're talking about Jesus?"
"Of course I am. Sent down to Earth to befriend you all. Born in squalor, died in agony. You humans murdered the one chance you had at salvation. I must say, I did rejoice that day."
Apart from the two of us, the barn is empty. Silent. We're alone together, and Satan seems happy for it to stay that way.
I'm reminded of the time when, in this very same barn, shadows of massive wings were cast on the walls - and I'm reminded, again, that Lucifer was an angel. He still is, in a way.
I'm trembling a little. I can't help it, but he notices. Puts a hand to my forehead.
"Withdrawal symptoms. Still. Oh, what would Dean think? You know, Sam, they won't ever go away. Not for the rest of your life. You'll always be reminded of your little addiction until the day they lower you into your grave."
"I'm getting a cremation."
I have no idea where that came from, but Lucifer chuckles. He seems amused.
"Well, then I guess they'll never quite disappear, will they? Not for eternity. When you die, I'll take you down to Hell with me, and I'll surround you with so much of it you won't be able to resist."
If I could say one thing to anyone out there, it's the plea: don't do drugs. Oh no, it's not worth it.
"Better to just give in now. I could get some for you; I'd be back in a few seconds. Give into temptation. You know you want to, Sam."
I shut my mouth firmly and break eye contact. That gaze stares into my soul, and I'm afraid he might see the truth in there.
"Come on. Just give in. Say yes."
"No." You respond automatically. He takes a small step back.
"No? Not this time, then. But eventually."
"Get out." You've found resolve you didn't know you had, and in acknowledgement of that he nods his head towards you.
"I'll be here, Sam. Always. I will never leave you. Not like your father, not like Dean. You can trust me. I'll be your friend."
"Go away."
He's gone, and I'm alone again. Through the broken glass of the window, the sky is still dark outside. I've not yet stayed up the whole night.
I don't want to sleep. I don't want to dream.
I can't do this alone anymore.
So I strengthen my resolve, and pull out my phone before my treacherous mind fails on me. I know the number off by heart. I just hope he'll pick up when he sees who's calling.
Dean swears on the end of the phone when he answers. I suppose it's my fault for waking him up. I want to end the call, run off again, hide from what I know I have to do. But I can't; not this time.
"Dean, it's me."
"Sam? It's quarter past four."
Dean doesn't know about Lucifer. Yet.
I'm going to tell him.
"This is important."
*(Bonus upvotes for anyone who gets the reference.)* | *Nothing bad could REALLY happen, could it? Nah,* I thought to myself as I scanned the shelves of the aisles of the massive library. I knew what I was searching for: a book on demonology. *Why not?,* I thought, *not like this stuff is for real, anyway. Just a bunch of old superstitious stuff.* I was bored out of my skull and all my friends were on the foreign exchange trip in Slovenia sponsored by our governments for the next month or so, so I thought it might be a decent idea to at least keep entertained for the next while, since I've already beaten all of my games and porn is boring as hell after I've diddled myself roughly seven times that day already.
Eventually, I finally came across the old and decrepit book, a black-and-red hardcover that was about to come off at the seams. On the front cover, no text was present; the only thing present on the front cover was the Sigil of Baphomet. I looked on the back cover, and it was blank. Even the spine was textless. Finally, I looked inside for information on the author, and all there was, was "Ave Satanas". Admittedly, at this point, I was more than a little entirely freaked out of my mind, but at the same time, it was so cool! A book on Satanic rituals? I looked inside and saw the text. All of it was in Latin. Each page had its own ritual, with the exception of a few that spilled over onto the next page. Finally, I saw a demonic summoning ritual, and I knew right then that I had to have this book.
As I walked up to the library's front desk, I could see the look of tired exasperation on the 30-something-year-old librarian's face. He was a quiet, very attractive man who wore a tired sweater and black-rimmed glasses. To be frank, I also knew I had to have him, but that's beside the point of this little story. I quietly placed the book on the desk, and he gave me a look like, "Okay, really now?", but I simply shrugged. He checked the book out and said, "You know, Victor, you've checked out some pretty weird books before, but this one really takes the cake."
"Yeah, but c'mon, Mitch, this is SO COOL, and I'm bored at home, but I could probably use the company instead of this book," I said back, with an inviting hint. He glared back at me with the single most intense "no" glare I've ever seen in my life. Finally, I broke the deathly silence with, "Well, at least I have something to do now. Maybe I'll even summon a demon to keep me company." Oh, how I now regret that last sentence.
I rushed home at what felt like light speed. Living in the city, that means I might've knocked a person or two over on their way to lunch. I stopped at the restaurant next to my apartment building and quickly grabbed a sub sandwich, and rushed next door and up the stairs to my apartment. I sat down at my dining table, unwrapped my delicious Srirachawich and opened the book carefully, considering how delicate this thing was. I rolled the pages past until I hit the ritual to summon my very own demon. I slowly munched my way through the foot-long sandwich until I read the very last line of the ritual.
At that point, I stood up and decided to go ahead do it. I took a piece of red chalk I had lying around in a set and drew an inverted pentagram on the ground, and sat down within it. I had the book set up in front of me, leaning against another pile of books I had lying about, some of which probably needed returned to that delicious hunk of a man at the library...er, anyway, back to the story. I began repeating the long Latin phrases required of me, slowly getting more and more entranced by the entire situation. At one point, I felt like I was selling my very soul to Satan himself. Finally, I ended the entire ritual with the phrase in the very back of the book: Ave Satanas.
The pentagram began to glow a mighty crimson glow. As soon as I saw this, I jumped out and got on the far side of the room, not wanting to be personally involved, but curious enough to still keep the pentagram in my line of sight. Finally, a glowing ball of energy appeared, levitating above the very center of the pentagram. The ball began to expand and finally exploded in a near-deafening boom. I managed to make out the apartments neighboring mine rattling. I heard someone below me scream, "HOLY SHIT, I THINK VICTOR FINALLY BLEW HIMSELF UP!" I ignored them, because right before my very eyes was the most frightening thing I'd ever seen: a 7-foot tall, muscular, humanoid being with horns on his head, blood-red skin, and a 5 o'clock shadow. Admittedly, I was slightly attracted to him, but that was quickly replaced by fear when he got his eyes on me.
"THE FUCK YOU WANT?" he bellowed at me, causing my nice plates to rattle.
"Uh, um, er, uh..." I stammered at him, subjected to the most mind-numbing fear I had ever experienced.
"THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? I'M A BUSY DEMON."
I was a little stunned at how profane he was, but then I remembered he was a giant scary demon. "Uh, I summoned you....I...uhh...admittedly, I have no idea what's going on," I slowly stammered back, trying not to let the sweat soak my every article of clothing.
"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" he said as he got within licking distance of my face.
"Uh....not really, no."
"I'M FUCKIN' POLRAY, GUARDIAN OF THE UNDERWORLD, AND I HAVE A **VERY** BUSY SCHEDULE!"
"Can I call you 'Ray'?"
"NO"
He looked over to my dining room table and saw my Srirachawich, which he proceeded to pick up and eat in one bite. "That was my lunch, asshole," I promptly said as my delicious wonderlunch made its way down whatever the demonic equivalent to an esophagus is.
"Not anymore, shitbreath. Damn, that was weak. I thought that red sauce was supposed to be hellpepper. What the hell is that?"
"Uh, um, Sriracha sauce, uh, sir."
"Well, it SUCKED MASSIVE DEMON DICK."
"Uh, thank you, sir, I guess."
At this point, I was more than a little confused at what on earth was ever going on.
"Well, I'm going back to Hell, because I got shit to do. I swear to the Dark Lord Himself, if you summon me again, I am taking you back with me, got it?"
"Uh, yes. Yes, I do."
"Good."
He disappeared from my room, along with the pentagram and my sandwich, in a red flash. I sat down at my table to contemplate what just happened.
I took the book back the next day. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Mitchell stared nervously at the pentagram on his bedroom floor. he made sure everything was perfect for his new visitor. After arranging all the materials, Mitchell stood on the northernmost corner and began reciting the incantation. The floor beneath him twisted and morphed into a fiery black pit. From the pit rose an enormous beast. He towered over Mitchell with his giant muscles bulging out of his skin. His skin was like fire. He had a jutted chin and his mouth was twisted into a wicked smile.
"SPEAK, PUNY MORTAL. IT IS I BEEZLEBUB, RULER OF THE DAMNED AND LIEUTENANT OF LUCIFER, HIMSELF"
"Hello, Beezlebub, I'm Mitchell, but you can call me Mitch".
"WRETCHED HUMAN, DO NOT WASTE MY TIME! WHY HAST THOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just wanted to, you know, hangout."
"I CAN GRANT YOU ANYTHING Y-. Wait, What?"
"I just wanted to hangout with you, get to know you."
"I HAVE NO TIME FOR SUCH THINGS. WHY HAVE YOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just told you. I want to spend some time with you. My dog recently died so now it's just me and I feel kinda lonely"
"SO IT IS FRIENDS YOU DESIRE? I CAN GIVE YOU AS MANY FRIENDS AS A PERSON COULD HAVE, BUT IT WILL BE FOR
A PRICE: YOUR SO-"
"I don't want to make a deal. I just want to spend some time with you"
"I WILL NOT WASTE MY TIME WITH THIS. I WILL SEE YOU ON JUDGEMENT DAY"
A column of smoke arose from Bezzlebub's feet until it engulfed him entirely. As the smoke cleared, Mitchell saw Beezlebub still there with a look of disappointment on his face.
"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!"
"The spell will keep you here until you do as I wish or the sun rises, and that's in about 5 hours."
"NOBODY, COULD POSSIBLY SUMMON I, BEEZLEBUB, FOR NO REASON"
"Well, Firstly, it's "me, Beezlebub" not I. Secondly, I summoned you here because I suspect that nobody has tried to be your friend for a long time."
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK SUCH THINGS, IGNORANT FOOL. I AM THE LIEUTENANT OF SATAN HIMSE- ugh, You're right. Satan and I used to be the best of friends. After we took over Hell collecting Human souls was just so easy that Lucifer and I spent most of our time together. I guess things started to change when the Buddha was born."
Beezlebub sat on Mitchell's bed and continued "It got worse when Jesus and Mohammed were born. With all those people telling others not to be evil, collecting souls became a full time job. Things got harder and harder as humanity advanced. I thought things would get better after WWI but Satan spent so much time with that mustachioed, Nazi shithead, that I thought he was Satan's new best friend."
Mitchell put his hand on Beezlebub's massive shoulder. "I get that", he said "I used to have two best friends, but they got jobs, and wives and kids, and we just kind of drifted apart. They moved on with their lives and I just ... fell behind"
"Beezlebub looked at Mitchell, "You know Mitch, you're the first person in a thousand years to just talk to me. If I'm stuck here lets hangout"
Mitchell's face lit up "Cool! So what do you like to do?"
"Do you like collecting the souls of the innocent?"
"No, do you like playing video games?"
"Yeah. Do you have any EA games?"
Mitchell asked "Yeah, why?"
Beezlebub pointed at his chest and proudly said "I'm the CEO of EA"
Mitchell laughed and said "I got Battlefield 4, Let's play."
The two played all night. For the first time in a longtime both of them felt truly happy. When the sun rose Mitchell looked worriedly at Beezlebub. Beezlebub said, "Don't worry I'll see you next Friday"
"Why?! Am I going to die"
Beezlebub laughed, "No because I get off work early on Friday and I want to spend it with a friend."
| *Nothing bad could REALLY happen, could it? Nah,* I thought to myself as I scanned the shelves of the aisles of the massive library. I knew what I was searching for: a book on demonology. *Why not?,* I thought, *not like this stuff is for real, anyway. Just a bunch of old superstitious stuff.* I was bored out of my skull and all my friends were on the foreign exchange trip in Slovenia sponsored by our governments for the next month or so, so I thought it might be a decent idea to at least keep entertained for the next while, since I've already beaten all of my games and porn is boring as hell after I've diddled myself roughly seven times that day already.
Eventually, I finally came across the old and decrepit book, a black-and-red hardcover that was about to come off at the seams. On the front cover, no text was present; the only thing present on the front cover was the Sigil of Baphomet. I looked on the back cover, and it was blank. Even the spine was textless. Finally, I looked inside for information on the author, and all there was, was "Ave Satanas". Admittedly, at this point, I was more than a little entirely freaked out of my mind, but at the same time, it was so cool! A book on Satanic rituals? I looked inside and saw the text. All of it was in Latin. Each page had its own ritual, with the exception of a few that spilled over onto the next page. Finally, I saw a demonic summoning ritual, and I knew right then that I had to have this book.
As I walked up to the library's front desk, I could see the look of tired exasperation on the 30-something-year-old librarian's face. He was a quiet, very attractive man who wore a tired sweater and black-rimmed glasses. To be frank, I also knew I had to have him, but that's beside the point of this little story. I quietly placed the book on the desk, and he gave me a look like, "Okay, really now?", but I simply shrugged. He checked the book out and said, "You know, Victor, you've checked out some pretty weird books before, but this one really takes the cake."
"Yeah, but c'mon, Mitch, this is SO COOL, and I'm bored at home, but I could probably use the company instead of this book," I said back, with an inviting hint. He glared back at me with the single most intense "no" glare I've ever seen in my life. Finally, I broke the deathly silence with, "Well, at least I have something to do now. Maybe I'll even summon a demon to keep me company." Oh, how I now regret that last sentence.
I rushed home at what felt like light speed. Living in the city, that means I might've knocked a person or two over on their way to lunch. I stopped at the restaurant next to my apartment building and quickly grabbed a sub sandwich, and rushed next door and up the stairs to my apartment. I sat down at my dining table, unwrapped my delicious Srirachawich and opened the book carefully, considering how delicate this thing was. I rolled the pages past until I hit the ritual to summon my very own demon. I slowly munched my way through the foot-long sandwich until I read the very last line of the ritual.
At that point, I stood up and decided to go ahead do it. I took a piece of red chalk I had lying around in a set and drew an inverted pentagram on the ground, and sat down within it. I had the book set up in front of me, leaning against another pile of books I had lying about, some of which probably needed returned to that delicious hunk of a man at the library...er, anyway, back to the story. I began repeating the long Latin phrases required of me, slowly getting more and more entranced by the entire situation. At one point, I felt like I was selling my very soul to Satan himself. Finally, I ended the entire ritual with the phrase in the very back of the book: Ave Satanas.
The pentagram began to glow a mighty crimson glow. As soon as I saw this, I jumped out and got on the far side of the room, not wanting to be personally involved, but curious enough to still keep the pentagram in my line of sight. Finally, a glowing ball of energy appeared, levitating above the very center of the pentagram. The ball began to expand and finally exploded in a near-deafening boom. I managed to make out the apartments neighboring mine rattling. I heard someone below me scream, "HOLY SHIT, I THINK VICTOR FINALLY BLEW HIMSELF UP!" I ignored them, because right before my very eyes was the most frightening thing I'd ever seen: a 7-foot tall, muscular, humanoid being with horns on his head, blood-red skin, and a 5 o'clock shadow. Admittedly, I was slightly attracted to him, but that was quickly replaced by fear when he got his eyes on me.
"THE FUCK YOU WANT?" he bellowed at me, causing my nice plates to rattle.
"Uh, um, er, uh..." I stammered at him, subjected to the most mind-numbing fear I had ever experienced.
"THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? I'M A BUSY DEMON."
I was a little stunned at how profane he was, but then I remembered he was a giant scary demon. "Uh, I summoned you....I...uhh...admittedly, I have no idea what's going on," I slowly stammered back, trying not to let the sweat soak my every article of clothing.
"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" he said as he got within licking distance of my face.
"Uh....not really, no."
"I'M FUCKIN' POLRAY, GUARDIAN OF THE UNDERWORLD, AND I HAVE A **VERY** BUSY SCHEDULE!"
"Can I call you 'Ray'?"
"NO"
He looked over to my dining room table and saw my Srirachawich, which he proceeded to pick up and eat in one bite. "That was my lunch, asshole," I promptly said as my delicious wonderlunch made its way down whatever the demonic equivalent to an esophagus is.
"Not anymore, shitbreath. Damn, that was weak. I thought that red sauce was supposed to be hellpepper. What the hell is that?"
"Uh, um, Sriracha sauce, uh, sir."
"Well, it SUCKED MASSIVE DEMON DICK."
"Uh, thank you, sir, I guess."
At this point, I was more than a little confused at what on earth was ever going on.
"Well, I'm going back to Hell, because I got shit to do. I swear to the Dark Lord Himself, if you summon me again, I am taking you back with me, got it?"
"Uh, yes. Yes, I do."
"Good."
He disappeared from my room, along with the pentagram and my sandwich, in a red flash. I sat down at my table to contemplate what just happened.
I took the book back the next day. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "More tea Lucy?" The fallen angel sighed and reluctantly nodded. Brittney almost squealed at the interaction. Moving to Alaska with her parents, into her grannpappy's old house had left her without any friends to play with at the ripe age of 5.
Her father had insisted she read more to occupy her time, while he worked in his office. Her books, although beautifully illustrated, were boring. Her grannpappy's books on the other hand... the ones she found in the attic, were more to her liking. The pictures weren't colored except for shades of white, black and red. She couldn't read it really, just the stuff inbetween the lines, phonics written in pen.
She had been reading out loud to herself, basically the only way she knew how, when the lumbering creature appeared to her in her bedroom, in a flash of fire, smoke and a smell of what Brittney could only identify as daddy farts. At first Brittney thought he was a dog by the fur that marked his waist down, but the wings and hooves dispelled that notion. By the way in which he appeared to her, she knew he was magic, like disney magic, he had to be a fairy godmother or a genie! "Hello, little one." Rumbled a noise from the demons face, his voice box sounded alot like metal grinding together, amongst screaming souls which was his breathe.
Brittney's eyes were wide "How many wishes do I get!" Not wasting any moments for formalities. The beasts wings shuddered and what could be identified as a smile smeared his face. "One wish, at a cost of your immort-"
"I want you to play with me and be my friend, forever!" Screamed Brittney. *POOF*. In another flare of fire, smoke and daddy farts, they were in a large red stone cavern without an entrance or exit. Filled with all manner or childrens toys, as the smoke cleared and Brittney's excitement burst forth in the form of high pitch squeals and jumping up and down while simultaneously tugging the demon's wings.
The great beast looked around and involuntarily let out a "Fuck".
Edit: formatting. Yay! my first WP.
Edit: Thank you all for the kind words and the sweet, sweet karma. This is my first prompt so feedback would be cool, and I'm not much of a writer. Corrections would be cool too. | *Nothing bad could REALLY happen, could it? Nah,* I thought to myself as I scanned the shelves of the aisles of the massive library. I knew what I was searching for: a book on demonology. *Why not?,* I thought, *not like this stuff is for real, anyway. Just a bunch of old superstitious stuff.* I was bored out of my skull and all my friends were on the foreign exchange trip in Slovenia sponsored by our governments for the next month or so, so I thought it might be a decent idea to at least keep entertained for the next while, since I've already beaten all of my games and porn is boring as hell after I've diddled myself roughly seven times that day already.
Eventually, I finally came across the old and decrepit book, a black-and-red hardcover that was about to come off at the seams. On the front cover, no text was present; the only thing present on the front cover was the Sigil of Baphomet. I looked on the back cover, and it was blank. Even the spine was textless. Finally, I looked inside for information on the author, and all there was, was "Ave Satanas". Admittedly, at this point, I was more than a little entirely freaked out of my mind, but at the same time, it was so cool! A book on Satanic rituals? I looked inside and saw the text. All of it was in Latin. Each page had its own ritual, with the exception of a few that spilled over onto the next page. Finally, I saw a demonic summoning ritual, and I knew right then that I had to have this book.
As I walked up to the library's front desk, I could see the look of tired exasperation on the 30-something-year-old librarian's face. He was a quiet, very attractive man who wore a tired sweater and black-rimmed glasses. To be frank, I also knew I had to have him, but that's beside the point of this little story. I quietly placed the book on the desk, and he gave me a look like, "Okay, really now?", but I simply shrugged. He checked the book out and said, "You know, Victor, you've checked out some pretty weird books before, but this one really takes the cake."
"Yeah, but c'mon, Mitch, this is SO COOL, and I'm bored at home, but I could probably use the company instead of this book," I said back, with an inviting hint. He glared back at me with the single most intense "no" glare I've ever seen in my life. Finally, I broke the deathly silence with, "Well, at least I have something to do now. Maybe I'll even summon a demon to keep me company." Oh, how I now regret that last sentence.
I rushed home at what felt like light speed. Living in the city, that means I might've knocked a person or two over on their way to lunch. I stopped at the restaurant next to my apartment building and quickly grabbed a sub sandwich, and rushed next door and up the stairs to my apartment. I sat down at my dining table, unwrapped my delicious Srirachawich and opened the book carefully, considering how delicate this thing was. I rolled the pages past until I hit the ritual to summon my very own demon. I slowly munched my way through the foot-long sandwich until I read the very last line of the ritual.
At that point, I stood up and decided to go ahead do it. I took a piece of red chalk I had lying around in a set and drew an inverted pentagram on the ground, and sat down within it. I had the book set up in front of me, leaning against another pile of books I had lying about, some of which probably needed returned to that delicious hunk of a man at the library...er, anyway, back to the story. I began repeating the long Latin phrases required of me, slowly getting more and more entranced by the entire situation. At one point, I felt like I was selling my very soul to Satan himself. Finally, I ended the entire ritual with the phrase in the very back of the book: Ave Satanas.
The pentagram began to glow a mighty crimson glow. As soon as I saw this, I jumped out and got on the far side of the room, not wanting to be personally involved, but curious enough to still keep the pentagram in my line of sight. Finally, a glowing ball of energy appeared, levitating above the very center of the pentagram. The ball began to expand and finally exploded in a near-deafening boom. I managed to make out the apartments neighboring mine rattling. I heard someone below me scream, "HOLY SHIT, I THINK VICTOR FINALLY BLEW HIMSELF UP!" I ignored them, because right before my very eyes was the most frightening thing I'd ever seen: a 7-foot tall, muscular, humanoid being with horns on his head, blood-red skin, and a 5 o'clock shadow. Admittedly, I was slightly attracted to him, but that was quickly replaced by fear when he got his eyes on me.
"THE FUCK YOU WANT?" he bellowed at me, causing my nice plates to rattle.
"Uh, um, er, uh..." I stammered at him, subjected to the most mind-numbing fear I had ever experienced.
"THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? I'M A BUSY DEMON."
I was a little stunned at how profane he was, but then I remembered he was a giant scary demon. "Uh, I summoned you....I...uhh...admittedly, I have no idea what's going on," I slowly stammered back, trying not to let the sweat soak my every article of clothing.
"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" he said as he got within licking distance of my face.
"Uh....not really, no."
"I'M FUCKIN' POLRAY, GUARDIAN OF THE UNDERWORLD, AND I HAVE A **VERY** BUSY SCHEDULE!"
"Can I call you 'Ray'?"
"NO"
He looked over to my dining room table and saw my Srirachawich, which he proceeded to pick up and eat in one bite. "That was my lunch, asshole," I promptly said as my delicious wonderlunch made its way down whatever the demonic equivalent to an esophagus is.
"Not anymore, shitbreath. Damn, that was weak. I thought that red sauce was supposed to be hellpepper. What the hell is that?"
"Uh, um, Sriracha sauce, uh, sir."
"Well, it SUCKED MASSIVE DEMON DICK."
"Uh, thank you, sir, I guess."
At this point, I was more than a little confused at what on earth was ever going on.
"Well, I'm going back to Hell, because I got shit to do. I swear to the Dark Lord Himself, if you summon me again, I am taking you back with me, got it?"
"Uh, yes. Yes, I do."
"Good."
He disappeared from my room, along with the pentagram and my sandwich, in a red flash. I sat down at my table to contemplate what just happened.
I took the book back the next day. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | “More Nachos Azgal?” said Bryan as he opened the microwave door. Azgal pulled down his shades and in a state of nocturnal awareness said “Hell yeah” as Bryan smothered the tortilla chips in cheese. The ding of the microwave triggered Azgal to scramble to the kitchen where he pushed Bryan aside and crammed the nachos down his throat, plate and all.
“Damn Azgal, you know how to party” Azgal coughed up a few pieces of glass dish and then shambled back over to the couch that was covered in food crumbs and energy drink stains. “Silence mortal, I must acquire more souls”. Bryan sat down on the arm of the couch and poked his head over to the screen “You mean kills? Those are kills and they don’t actually count and soul reaping.”
Azgal slammed his fists down upon the controller and let out a hellfire from his mouth onto the television. “This digital amusement no longer serves me purpose. I believe that it is time we ordered more of that circular meat disk.”
Bryan pulled out his wallet and opened it to watch the fall of a five-dollar bill. “Sorry bud, we don’t have enough for pizza.”
Azgal cracked his knuckles and then formed his hands into the shape of a pyramid, placing them in front of himself “You mortals are so weak with your inter dimensional rituals. Allow me.”
A black orb appeared in front of him, right above the coffee table. Screams could be heard coming from its deepest depths and Azgal opened his hands further apart and the orb began to grow. Hundreds of pizzas came flying from the portal and they landed perfectly on the counters and tables, covered in only small of amounts of blood and hell fire.
Bryan looked around the room and slapped Azgal on the back “Nice one man. You are definitely not paying for booze tonight.”
Azgal ravaged through the boxes of pizza and stopped to look over at Bryan “Does this gathering require exotic dancers for our entertainment?”
“Hell yeah man,” screamed Bryan as he took his shirt off in party fashion.
Another black portal opened up before Azgal and what happened afterwards was known as the single greatest party in the entire universe. Sure, it left millions dead and might have destroyed a continent or two but in the grander scheme of things it was the best night of Bryan’s life.
| There he was. I still couldn't believe it.
A colossal being, he stood towering over me, a giant, his legs as thick as trunks and as long as I was tall. His flesh was made of a thick black mist, wisps of it circled him, shrouding him, concealing him. He looked almost like he was part of the darkness that filled the small, worn-down room.
The most striking part of him was his eyes. Eyes that made him look human. It wasn't really the eyes themselves, but more of the look they gave. A look of anger, a look of despair, a look of longing, a look of hope. I knew that look, it was the look I put on everyday. His eyes not only looked into my soul, but tugged at it, tearing it, bit by bit.
A year ago today I lost all that I had held dear to me in this world. My son's plane crashed over the Atlantic Ocean, he was on his way home to visit me. His mother when she heard the news killed herself in grief and on the same day my mother died of cancer, going off to join my father in a land far far away.
I was never the same after that. That incident turned me into the man I am today, and it's what brought him here.
Him. Feared by all. He stalks each and every one of us, follows us through our lives. Those who are fast, escape, but only for a while. Sooner or later he catches up to us, and when he does, he hits us right where it hurts. No one liked him, no one wanted him. He was powerful, bringing even the strongest of men to their knees in tears.
And today I was to meet him, and he was to be my friend.
I took his cold hand in mine, the mist started crawling up my arm, it stung, but it would not release itself.
I looked at him. He looked at me.
My only friend, and his name was Loneliness. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Mitchell stared nervously at the pentagram on his bedroom floor. he made sure everything was perfect for his new visitor. After arranging all the materials, Mitchell stood on the northernmost corner and began reciting the incantation. The floor beneath him twisted and morphed into a fiery black pit. From the pit rose an enormous beast. He towered over Mitchell with his giant muscles bulging out of his skin. His skin was like fire. He had a jutted chin and his mouth was twisted into a wicked smile.
"SPEAK, PUNY MORTAL. IT IS I BEEZLEBUB, RULER OF THE DAMNED AND LIEUTENANT OF LUCIFER, HIMSELF"
"Hello, Beezlebub, I'm Mitchell, but you can call me Mitch".
"WRETCHED HUMAN, DO NOT WASTE MY TIME! WHY HAST THOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just wanted to, you know, hangout."
"I CAN GRANT YOU ANYTHING Y-. Wait, What?"
"I just wanted to hangout with you, get to know you."
"I HAVE NO TIME FOR SUCH THINGS. WHY HAVE YOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just told you. I want to spend some time with you. My dog recently died so now it's just me and I feel kinda lonely"
"SO IT IS FRIENDS YOU DESIRE? I CAN GIVE YOU AS MANY FRIENDS AS A PERSON COULD HAVE, BUT IT WILL BE FOR
A PRICE: YOUR SO-"
"I don't want to make a deal. I just want to spend some time with you"
"I WILL NOT WASTE MY TIME WITH THIS. I WILL SEE YOU ON JUDGEMENT DAY"
A column of smoke arose from Bezzlebub's feet until it engulfed him entirely. As the smoke cleared, Mitchell saw Beezlebub still there with a look of disappointment on his face.
"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!"
"The spell will keep you here until you do as I wish or the sun rises, and that's in about 5 hours."
"NOBODY, COULD POSSIBLY SUMMON I, BEEZLEBUB, FOR NO REASON"
"Well, Firstly, it's "me, Beezlebub" not I. Secondly, I summoned you here because I suspect that nobody has tried to be your friend for a long time."
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK SUCH THINGS, IGNORANT FOOL. I AM THE LIEUTENANT OF SATAN HIMSE- ugh, You're right. Satan and I used to be the best of friends. After we took over Hell collecting Human souls was just so easy that Lucifer and I spent most of our time together. I guess things started to change when the Buddha was born."
Beezlebub sat on Mitchell's bed and continued "It got worse when Jesus and Mohammed were born. With all those people telling others not to be evil, collecting souls became a full time job. Things got harder and harder as humanity advanced. I thought things would get better after WWI but Satan spent so much time with that mustachioed, Nazi shithead, that I thought he was Satan's new best friend."
Mitchell put his hand on Beezlebub's massive shoulder. "I get that", he said "I used to have two best friends, but they got jobs, and wives and kids, and we just kind of drifted apart. They moved on with their lives and I just ... fell behind"
"Beezlebub looked at Mitchell, "You know Mitch, you're the first person in a thousand years to just talk to me. If I'm stuck here lets hangout"
Mitchell's face lit up "Cool! So what do you like to do?"
"Do you like collecting the souls of the innocent?"
"No, do you like playing video games?"
"Yeah. Do you have any EA games?"
Mitchell asked "Yeah, why?"
Beezlebub pointed at his chest and proudly said "I'm the CEO of EA"
Mitchell laughed and said "I got Battlefield 4, Let's play."
The two played all night. For the first time in a longtime both of them felt truly happy. When the sun rose Mitchell looked worriedly at Beezlebub. Beezlebub said, "Don't worry I'll see you next Friday"
"Why?! Am I going to die"
Beezlebub laughed, "No because I get off work early on Friday and I want to spend it with a friend."
| There he was. I still couldn't believe it.
A colossal being, he stood towering over me, a giant, his legs as thick as trunks and as long as I was tall. His flesh was made of a thick black mist, wisps of it circled him, shrouding him, concealing him. He looked almost like he was part of the darkness that filled the small, worn-down room.
The most striking part of him was his eyes. Eyes that made him look human. It wasn't really the eyes themselves, but more of the look they gave. A look of anger, a look of despair, a look of longing, a look of hope. I knew that look, it was the look I put on everyday. His eyes not only looked into my soul, but tugged at it, tearing it, bit by bit.
A year ago today I lost all that I had held dear to me in this world. My son's plane crashed over the Atlantic Ocean, he was on his way home to visit me. His mother when she heard the news killed herself in grief and on the same day my mother died of cancer, going off to join my father in a land far far away.
I was never the same after that. That incident turned me into the man I am today, and it's what brought him here.
Him. Feared by all. He stalks each and every one of us, follows us through our lives. Those who are fast, escape, but only for a while. Sooner or later he catches up to us, and when he does, he hits us right where it hurts. No one liked him, no one wanted him. He was powerful, bringing even the strongest of men to their knees in tears.
And today I was to meet him, and he was to be my friend.
I took his cold hand in mine, the mist started crawling up my arm, it stung, but it would not release itself.
I looked at him. He looked at me.
My only friend, and his name was Loneliness. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | They say that to summon him, you need the blood of a hundred baby goats mixed with the sorrowful tears of a widow, and must sacrifice a six-year-old child on the altar to provide adequate sustenance for the devil's manifestation on this earth.
They're wrong. Because they don't get it like I do.
All you need to do to summon Lucifer is whisper your fears and doubts into the dark, and he will be there to listen. You won't see him, but he's always there. For everyone. For me.
Family used to be everything - in my family, at least. Dad cared for both of us since Mom died, and my big brother grew up as close to me as two brothers can get without crossing a line. We were everything to each other.
I walked away from all that. I know it's my fault; objectively, what I did to Dean was far worse than what he did to me, and I feel so guilty every day for how he must be feeling. Eating himself up from the inside just like I'm doing now.
I shouldn't do this. I know I shouldn't. I know I'm in a dark place and that means I'm a danger to myself and everyone around me. I might do something monumentally stupid that leads to horrendous consequences. For Dean. For everyone.
Probably not for me.
"Lucifer." I breathe into the shadows. "Lucifer, I know you're there."
He steps out, bathed in darkness, contained in a form that seems almost human if it were not for the skin that's cracked and peeling away in places like a coat of paint over rusty iron.
"Hello, Sam." He knows my name. Of course the devil knows my name. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I don't know. I wanted to talk so someone, I guess." I shift. I know I should send him away right now, but Heaven help me I can't bring myself to.
"I'll always be there to listen, Sam."
"I know."
Because that's part of the problem. I'm special. Most people, when they're at their weakest and they're talking to what they think is themselves, have no idea of the being watching them. But I'm not most people. I can sense the heaviness in the air when Lucifer stands near me.
He knows I can. So when I call him out on watching me, he lets me see him too.
"How's life in Hell?" I ask.
"It's Hell. What you'd expect, I suppose. The demons are so pathetic. Even worse than humans. Not you, of course, Sam." Lucifer crouches down, because I'm sitting. "You're different from everyone else. Always have been. Always will be."
His voice is soft and his hand is softer, running gently through my hair before he stands back up and looks around. "Where is this?"
"A barn. We keep animals in here, sometimes."
"I know that." He scrunches his nose. "It explains the smell. Why my Father would let his favorite son be birthed in one of these, I can never understand. Still. The poor thing was a victim of circumstance."
"You're talking about Jesus?"
"Of course I am. Sent down to Earth to befriend you all. Born in squalor, died in agony. You humans murdered the one chance you had at salvation. I must say, I did rejoice that day."
Apart from the two of us, the barn is empty. Silent. We're alone together, and Satan seems happy for it to stay that way.
I'm reminded of the time when, in this very same barn, shadows of massive wings were cast on the walls - and I'm reminded, again, that Lucifer was an angel. He still is, in a way.
I'm trembling a little. I can't help it, but he notices. Puts a hand to my forehead.
"Withdrawal symptoms. Still. Oh, what would Dean think? You know, Sam, they won't ever go away. Not for the rest of your life. You'll always be reminded of your little addiction until the day they lower you into your grave."
"I'm getting a cremation."
I have no idea where that came from, but Lucifer chuckles. He seems amused.
"Well, then I guess they'll never quite disappear, will they? Not for eternity. When you die, I'll take you down to Hell with me, and I'll surround you with so much of it you won't be able to resist."
If I could say one thing to anyone out there, it's the plea: don't do drugs. Oh no, it's not worth it.
"Better to just give in now. I could get some for you; I'd be back in a few seconds. Give into temptation. You know you want to, Sam."
I shut my mouth firmly and break eye contact. That gaze stares into my soul, and I'm afraid he might see the truth in there.
"Come on. Just give in. Say yes."
"No." You respond automatically. He takes a small step back.
"No? Not this time, then. But eventually."
"Get out." You've found resolve you didn't know you had, and in acknowledgement of that he nods his head towards you.
"I'll be here, Sam. Always. I will never leave you. Not like your father, not like Dean. You can trust me. I'll be your friend."
"Go away."
He's gone, and I'm alone again. Through the broken glass of the window, the sky is still dark outside. I've not yet stayed up the whole night.
I don't want to sleep. I don't want to dream.
I can't do this alone anymore.
So I strengthen my resolve, and pull out my phone before my treacherous mind fails on me. I know the number off by heart. I just hope he'll pick up when he sees who's calling.
Dean swears on the end of the phone when he answers. I suppose it's my fault for waking him up. I want to end the call, run off again, hide from what I know I have to do. But I can't; not this time.
"Dean, it's me."
"Sam? It's quarter past four."
Dean doesn't know about Lucifer. Yet.
I'm going to tell him.
"This is important."
*(Bonus upvotes for anyone who gets the reference.)* | As the man finished his final intonation, the air itself seemed to invert on itself. The sacrifices, which had been so carefully arraigned, blubbered first with terror and then in simple unending agony.
The very air seemed to twist in on itself, and with an incomprehensible scream, unreality darkened and fused together. The man looked on.
*Who*
Still, the man looked on.
**DARES**
Blood stained hands reached up, lowering the hood of his cowl. His eyes, so steady, betrayed his emotion with a single tear. Into a myriad forest of eyes and writhing appendages he walked. Infinite screams poured around him, clawing at him, but he did not flinch.
"It is I"
The horror he had summoned with his dark incantation dwarfed the man. With words that oozed madness it spoke.
*Why do you summon me*
The man looked around him at the last remains of what had been his world. The sky, once an azure blue, was now a chaotic mockery of black and crimson. Buildings crumbled and fell around them, their architecture undone. A fine mist of blood covered all which had once been so bright and beautiful. *Not beautiful enough*, he thought, *not to me*.
Finally, the man looked up, his gaze piercing through the shroud of darkness, locked eyes with the horror, and spoke.
"I was lonely"
And the horror knew fear. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Mitchell stared nervously at the pentagram on his bedroom floor. he made sure everything was perfect for his new visitor. After arranging all the materials, Mitchell stood on the northernmost corner and began reciting the incantation. The floor beneath him twisted and morphed into a fiery black pit. From the pit rose an enormous beast. He towered over Mitchell with his giant muscles bulging out of his skin. His skin was like fire. He had a jutted chin and his mouth was twisted into a wicked smile.
"SPEAK, PUNY MORTAL. IT IS I BEEZLEBUB, RULER OF THE DAMNED AND LIEUTENANT OF LUCIFER, HIMSELF"
"Hello, Beezlebub, I'm Mitchell, but you can call me Mitch".
"WRETCHED HUMAN, DO NOT WASTE MY TIME! WHY HAST THOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just wanted to, you know, hangout."
"I CAN GRANT YOU ANYTHING Y-. Wait, What?"
"I just wanted to hangout with you, get to know you."
"I HAVE NO TIME FOR SUCH THINGS. WHY HAVE YOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just told you. I want to spend some time with you. My dog recently died so now it's just me and I feel kinda lonely"
"SO IT IS FRIENDS YOU DESIRE? I CAN GIVE YOU AS MANY FRIENDS AS A PERSON COULD HAVE, BUT IT WILL BE FOR
A PRICE: YOUR SO-"
"I don't want to make a deal. I just want to spend some time with you"
"I WILL NOT WASTE MY TIME WITH THIS. I WILL SEE YOU ON JUDGEMENT DAY"
A column of smoke arose from Bezzlebub's feet until it engulfed him entirely. As the smoke cleared, Mitchell saw Beezlebub still there with a look of disappointment on his face.
"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!"
"The spell will keep you here until you do as I wish or the sun rises, and that's in about 5 hours."
"NOBODY, COULD POSSIBLY SUMMON I, BEEZLEBUB, FOR NO REASON"
"Well, Firstly, it's "me, Beezlebub" not I. Secondly, I summoned you here because I suspect that nobody has tried to be your friend for a long time."
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK SUCH THINGS, IGNORANT FOOL. I AM THE LIEUTENANT OF SATAN HIMSE- ugh, You're right. Satan and I used to be the best of friends. After we took over Hell collecting Human souls was just so easy that Lucifer and I spent most of our time together. I guess things started to change when the Buddha was born."
Beezlebub sat on Mitchell's bed and continued "It got worse when Jesus and Mohammed were born. With all those people telling others not to be evil, collecting souls became a full time job. Things got harder and harder as humanity advanced. I thought things would get better after WWI but Satan spent so much time with that mustachioed, Nazi shithead, that I thought he was Satan's new best friend."
Mitchell put his hand on Beezlebub's massive shoulder. "I get that", he said "I used to have two best friends, but they got jobs, and wives and kids, and we just kind of drifted apart. They moved on with their lives and I just ... fell behind"
"Beezlebub looked at Mitchell, "You know Mitch, you're the first person in a thousand years to just talk to me. If I'm stuck here lets hangout"
Mitchell's face lit up "Cool! So what do you like to do?"
"Do you like collecting the souls of the innocent?"
"No, do you like playing video games?"
"Yeah. Do you have any EA games?"
Mitchell asked "Yeah, why?"
Beezlebub pointed at his chest and proudly said "I'm the CEO of EA"
Mitchell laughed and said "I got Battlefield 4, Let's play."
The two played all night. For the first time in a longtime both of them felt truly happy. When the sun rose Mitchell looked worriedly at Beezlebub. Beezlebub said, "Don't worry I'll see you next Friday"
"Why?! Am I going to die"
Beezlebub laughed, "No because I get off work early on Friday and I want to spend it with a friend."
| As the man finished his final intonation, the air itself seemed to invert on itself. The sacrifices, which had been so carefully arraigned, blubbered first with terror and then in simple unending agony.
The very air seemed to twist in on itself, and with an incomprehensible scream, unreality darkened and fused together. The man looked on.
*Who*
Still, the man looked on.
**DARES**
Blood stained hands reached up, lowering the hood of his cowl. His eyes, so steady, betrayed his emotion with a single tear. Into a myriad forest of eyes and writhing appendages he walked. Infinite screams poured around him, clawing at him, but he did not flinch.
"It is I"
The horror he had summoned with his dark incantation dwarfed the man. With words that oozed madness it spoke.
*Why do you summon me*
The man looked around him at the last remains of what had been his world. The sky, once an azure blue, was now a chaotic mockery of black and crimson. Buildings crumbled and fell around them, their architecture undone. A fine mist of blood covered all which had once been so bright and beautiful. *Not beautiful enough*, he thought, *not to me*.
Finally, the man looked up, his gaze piercing through the shroud of darkness, locked eyes with the horror, and spoke.
"I was lonely"
And the horror knew fear. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "More tea Lucy?" The fallen angel sighed and reluctantly nodded. Brittney almost squealed at the interaction. Moving to Alaska with her parents, into her grannpappy's old house had left her without any friends to play with at the ripe age of 5.
Her father had insisted she read more to occupy her time, while he worked in his office. Her books, although beautifully illustrated, were boring. Her grannpappy's books on the other hand... the ones she found in the attic, were more to her liking. The pictures weren't colored except for shades of white, black and red. She couldn't read it really, just the stuff inbetween the lines, phonics written in pen.
She had been reading out loud to herself, basically the only way she knew how, when the lumbering creature appeared to her in her bedroom, in a flash of fire, smoke and a smell of what Brittney could only identify as daddy farts. At first Brittney thought he was a dog by the fur that marked his waist down, but the wings and hooves dispelled that notion. By the way in which he appeared to her, she knew he was magic, like disney magic, he had to be a fairy godmother or a genie! "Hello, little one." Rumbled a noise from the demons face, his voice box sounded alot like metal grinding together, amongst screaming souls which was his breathe.
Brittney's eyes were wide "How many wishes do I get!" Not wasting any moments for formalities. The beasts wings shuddered and what could be identified as a smile smeared his face. "One wish, at a cost of your immort-"
"I want you to play with me and be my friend, forever!" Screamed Brittney. *POOF*. In another flare of fire, smoke and daddy farts, they were in a large red stone cavern without an entrance or exit. Filled with all manner or childrens toys, as the smoke cleared and Brittney's excitement burst forth in the form of high pitch squeals and jumping up and down while simultaneously tugging the demon's wings.
The great beast looked around and involuntarily let out a "Fuck".
Edit: formatting. Yay! my first WP.
Edit: Thank you all for the kind words and the sweet, sweet karma. This is my first prompt so feedback would be cool, and I'm not much of a writer. Corrections would be cool too. | As the man finished his final intonation, the air itself seemed to invert on itself. The sacrifices, which had been so carefully arraigned, blubbered first with terror and then in simple unending agony.
The very air seemed to twist in on itself, and with an incomprehensible scream, unreality darkened and fused together. The man looked on.
*Who*
Still, the man looked on.
**DARES**
Blood stained hands reached up, lowering the hood of his cowl. His eyes, so steady, betrayed his emotion with a single tear. Into a myriad forest of eyes and writhing appendages he walked. Infinite screams poured around him, clawing at him, but he did not flinch.
"It is I"
The horror he had summoned with his dark incantation dwarfed the man. With words that oozed madness it spoke.
*Why do you summon me*
The man looked around him at the last remains of what had been his world. The sky, once an azure blue, was now a chaotic mockery of black and crimson. Buildings crumbled and fell around them, their architecture undone. A fine mist of blood covered all which had once been so bright and beautiful. *Not beautiful enough*, he thought, *not to me*.
Finally, the man looked up, his gaze piercing through the shroud of darkness, locked eyes with the horror, and spoke.
"I was lonely"
And the horror knew fear. | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | Mitchell stared nervously at the pentagram on his bedroom floor. he made sure everything was perfect for his new visitor. After arranging all the materials, Mitchell stood on the northernmost corner and began reciting the incantation. The floor beneath him twisted and morphed into a fiery black pit. From the pit rose an enormous beast. He towered over Mitchell with his giant muscles bulging out of his skin. His skin was like fire. He had a jutted chin and his mouth was twisted into a wicked smile.
"SPEAK, PUNY MORTAL. IT IS I BEEZLEBUB, RULER OF THE DAMNED AND LIEUTENANT OF LUCIFER, HIMSELF"
"Hello, Beezlebub, I'm Mitchell, but you can call me Mitch".
"WRETCHED HUMAN, DO NOT WASTE MY TIME! WHY HAST THOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just wanted to, you know, hangout."
"I CAN GRANT YOU ANYTHING Y-. Wait, What?"
"I just wanted to hangout with you, get to know you."
"I HAVE NO TIME FOR SUCH THINGS. WHY HAVE YOU SUMMONED ME?"
"I just told you. I want to spend some time with you. My dog recently died so now it's just me and I feel kinda lonely"
"SO IT IS FRIENDS YOU DESIRE? I CAN GIVE YOU AS MANY FRIENDS AS A PERSON COULD HAVE, BUT IT WILL BE FOR
A PRICE: YOUR SO-"
"I don't want to make a deal. I just want to spend some time with you"
"I WILL NOT WASTE MY TIME WITH THIS. I WILL SEE YOU ON JUDGEMENT DAY"
A column of smoke arose from Bezzlebub's feet until it engulfed him entirely. As the smoke cleared, Mitchell saw Beezlebub still there with a look of disappointment on his face.
"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!"
"The spell will keep you here until you do as I wish or the sun rises, and that's in about 5 hours."
"NOBODY, COULD POSSIBLY SUMMON I, BEEZLEBUB, FOR NO REASON"
"Well, Firstly, it's "me, Beezlebub" not I. Secondly, I summoned you here because I suspect that nobody has tried to be your friend for a long time."
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK SUCH THINGS, IGNORANT FOOL. I AM THE LIEUTENANT OF SATAN HIMSE- ugh, You're right. Satan and I used to be the best of friends. After we took over Hell collecting Human souls was just so easy that Lucifer and I spent most of our time together. I guess things started to change when the Buddha was born."
Beezlebub sat on Mitchell's bed and continued "It got worse when Jesus and Mohammed were born. With all those people telling others not to be evil, collecting souls became a full time job. Things got harder and harder as humanity advanced. I thought things would get better after WWI but Satan spent so much time with that mustachioed, Nazi shithead, that I thought he was Satan's new best friend."
Mitchell put his hand on Beezlebub's massive shoulder. "I get that", he said "I used to have two best friends, but they got jobs, and wives and kids, and we just kind of drifted apart. They moved on with their lives and I just ... fell behind"
"Beezlebub looked at Mitchell, "You know Mitch, you're the first person in a thousand years to just talk to me. If I'm stuck here lets hangout"
Mitchell's face lit up "Cool! So what do you like to do?"
"Do you like collecting the souls of the innocent?"
"No, do you like playing video games?"
"Yeah. Do you have any EA games?"
Mitchell asked "Yeah, why?"
Beezlebub pointed at his chest and proudly said "I'm the CEO of EA"
Mitchell laughed and said "I got Battlefield 4, Let's play."
The two played all night. For the first time in a longtime both of them felt truly happy. When the sun rose Mitchell looked worriedly at Beezlebub. Beezlebub said, "Don't worry I'll see you next Friday"
"Why?! Am I going to die"
Beezlebub laughed, "No because I get off work early on Friday and I want to spend it with a friend."
| They say that to summon him, you need the blood of a hundred baby goats mixed with the sorrowful tears of a widow, and must sacrifice a six-year-old child on the altar to provide adequate sustenance for the devil's manifestation on this earth.
They're wrong. Because they don't get it like I do.
All you need to do to summon Lucifer is whisper your fears and doubts into the dark, and he will be there to listen. You won't see him, but he's always there. For everyone. For me.
Family used to be everything - in my family, at least. Dad cared for both of us since Mom died, and my big brother grew up as close to me as two brothers can get without crossing a line. We were everything to each other.
I walked away from all that. I know it's my fault; objectively, what I did to Dean was far worse than what he did to me, and I feel so guilty every day for how he must be feeling. Eating himself up from the inside just like I'm doing now.
I shouldn't do this. I know I shouldn't. I know I'm in a dark place and that means I'm a danger to myself and everyone around me. I might do something monumentally stupid that leads to horrendous consequences. For Dean. For everyone.
Probably not for me.
"Lucifer." I breathe into the shadows. "Lucifer, I know you're there."
He steps out, bathed in darkness, contained in a form that seems almost human if it were not for the skin that's cracked and peeling away in places like a coat of paint over rusty iron.
"Hello, Sam." He knows my name. Of course the devil knows my name. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I don't know. I wanted to talk so someone, I guess." I shift. I know I should send him away right now, but Heaven help me I can't bring myself to.
"I'll always be there to listen, Sam."
"I know."
Because that's part of the problem. I'm special. Most people, when they're at their weakest and they're talking to what they think is themselves, have no idea of the being watching them. But I'm not most people. I can sense the heaviness in the air when Lucifer stands near me.
He knows I can. So when I call him out on watching me, he lets me see him too.
"How's life in Hell?" I ask.
"It's Hell. What you'd expect, I suppose. The demons are so pathetic. Even worse than humans. Not you, of course, Sam." Lucifer crouches down, because I'm sitting. "You're different from everyone else. Always have been. Always will be."
His voice is soft and his hand is softer, running gently through my hair before he stands back up and looks around. "Where is this?"
"A barn. We keep animals in here, sometimes."
"I know that." He scrunches his nose. "It explains the smell. Why my Father would let his favorite son be birthed in one of these, I can never understand. Still. The poor thing was a victim of circumstance."
"You're talking about Jesus?"
"Of course I am. Sent down to Earth to befriend you all. Born in squalor, died in agony. You humans murdered the one chance you had at salvation. I must say, I did rejoice that day."
Apart from the two of us, the barn is empty. Silent. We're alone together, and Satan seems happy for it to stay that way.
I'm reminded of the time when, in this very same barn, shadows of massive wings were cast on the walls - and I'm reminded, again, that Lucifer was an angel. He still is, in a way.
I'm trembling a little. I can't help it, but he notices. Puts a hand to my forehead.
"Withdrawal symptoms. Still. Oh, what would Dean think? You know, Sam, they won't ever go away. Not for the rest of your life. You'll always be reminded of your little addiction until the day they lower you into your grave."
"I'm getting a cremation."
I have no idea where that came from, but Lucifer chuckles. He seems amused.
"Well, then I guess they'll never quite disappear, will they? Not for eternity. When you die, I'll take you down to Hell with me, and I'll surround you with so much of it you won't be able to resist."
If I could say one thing to anyone out there, it's the plea: don't do drugs. Oh no, it's not worth it.
"Better to just give in now. I could get some for you; I'd be back in a few seconds. Give into temptation. You know you want to, Sam."
I shut my mouth firmly and break eye contact. That gaze stares into my soul, and I'm afraid he might see the truth in there.
"Come on. Just give in. Say yes."
"No." You respond automatically. He takes a small step back.
"No? Not this time, then. But eventually."
"Get out." You've found resolve you didn't know you had, and in acknowledgement of that he nods his head towards you.
"I'll be here, Sam. Always. I will never leave you. Not like your father, not like Dean. You can trust me. I'll be your friend."
"Go away."
He's gone, and I'm alone again. Through the broken glass of the window, the sky is still dark outside. I've not yet stayed up the whole night.
I don't want to sleep. I don't want to dream.
I can't do this alone anymore.
So I strengthen my resolve, and pull out my phone before my treacherous mind fails on me. I know the number off by heart. I just hope he'll pick up when he sees who's calling.
Dean swears on the end of the phone when he answers. I suppose it's my fault for waking him up. I want to end the call, run off again, hide from what I know I have to do. But I can't; not this time.
"Dean, it's me."
"Sam? It's quarter past four."
Dean doesn't know about Lucifer. Yet.
I'm going to tell him.
"This is important."
*(Bonus upvotes for anyone who gets the reference.)* | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "More tea Lucy?" The fallen angel sighed and reluctantly nodded. Brittney almost squealed at the interaction. Moving to Alaska with her parents, into her grannpappy's old house had left her without any friends to play with at the ripe age of 5.
Her father had insisted she read more to occupy her time, while he worked in his office. Her books, although beautifully illustrated, were boring. Her grannpappy's books on the other hand... the ones she found in the attic, were more to her liking. The pictures weren't colored except for shades of white, black and red. She couldn't read it really, just the stuff inbetween the lines, phonics written in pen.
She had been reading out loud to herself, basically the only way she knew how, when the lumbering creature appeared to her in her bedroom, in a flash of fire, smoke and a smell of what Brittney could only identify as daddy farts. At first Brittney thought he was a dog by the fur that marked his waist down, but the wings and hooves dispelled that notion. By the way in which he appeared to her, she knew he was magic, like disney magic, he had to be a fairy godmother or a genie! "Hello, little one." Rumbled a noise from the demons face, his voice box sounded alot like metal grinding together, amongst screaming souls which was his breathe.
Brittney's eyes were wide "How many wishes do I get!" Not wasting any moments for formalities. The beasts wings shuddered and what could be identified as a smile smeared his face. "One wish, at a cost of your immort-"
"I want you to play with me and be my friend, forever!" Screamed Brittney. *POOF*. In another flare of fire, smoke and daddy farts, they were in a large red stone cavern without an entrance or exit. Filled with all manner or childrens toys, as the smoke cleared and Brittney's excitement burst forth in the form of high pitch squeals and jumping up and down while simultaneously tugging the demon's wings.
The great beast looked around and involuntarily let out a "Fuck".
Edit: formatting. Yay! my first WP.
Edit: Thank you all for the kind words and the sweet, sweet karma. This is my first prompt so feedback would be cool, and I'm not much of a writer. Corrections would be cool too. | Every step feels like a jump for the anticipation to come, practically skipping. Today is the day! The fingers dance on the kitchen table over the ingredients. A normal chef would have cinnamon, maybe some flour, not quite what this recipe entails.
On the table lie a series of grotesque and smelly body parts, satanic nicknacks and of course, an iphone. Such an item is a necessity for a growing teenage girl, but not for Ro.
"Today is the day Jacque!" Jacque remains motionless, simply turning his mustache.
"I know we've had some problems but it'll work this time and it's gonna be the best birthday present ever!" She say with glee as she rips out the heart of a neighborhood cat. Her hands are so steady after much practice, honestly you'd think the Smiths would just stop getting a cat after three disappearances.
"Jacque don't look so down!" Jacque will continue to seem sad for another hour during those brief moments his minute hand gives him expressions that seemingly only Ro can see.
"Okay so, hair of a virgin who has been touched by fire..." Ro's eyes glance at Jacque, she face turns a shade of red that almost matches her greasy locks.
"Look away Jacque! I need to grab it from my super secret stash box!"
Jacque of course, doesn't look away, nor does he look any way. Ever. If Jacque could speak, he would probably ask Ro why she doesn't just get a dog or something. But all Jacque tells is the time.
Ro grabs a pair of her mothers kitchen scissors, still stained with blood from last nights cutting session. She fiddles with her hair and chooses a particularly greasy lock, it's almost crusty. She positions the scissors into place near her scalp, takes one last glance to make sure Jacque isn't looking, deep breath and... SNIP! Down goes a little part of sunshine.
With all the ingredients in place, Ro finally stops stalling with her excessive un-important backstory of Jacque's life and quirks. She puts all the ingredients into a pot and starts the summoning.
"Cain, the fallen. Seraphim of my light, chaos must reign-"
With each uttered word, the lights of the room seemingly get dimmer, each shadow becomes darker and with more substance, you'd swear when you glance away that they've gotten closer.
Ro speaks the final words of the summoning as the entire kitchen begins to tremble.
"-Walk this earth, Beelzebub!"
Quiet. Silence. Ro's disappointment personifies in a scream, one that almost shattered Jacques face, until suddenly the cat carcass, started to twist and turn, strange noises came from it. Ro steps closer, heaving in anticipation.
The Smith's cat, which still didn't have a name since Mrs.Smith didn't feel right calling him Snowball 3, had grown and twisted into a particularly peculiar creature, standing two heads higher than Ro's 5'6 small frame. He had no horns, no nose, barely a mouth and sockets with tiny suns that functioned as his eyes.
This skeletal, muscle monstrosity stared at Ro, who was stunned by her own accomplishment. Beelzebub cut the silence with a word.
*"Fall.*"
*"Mankind will fall, as I walk among you again. I shall rule a desolate earth as none will survive my coming."*
Ro stares at him in admiration, he's actually sort of cute in a weird way. She comes out of her trance and says:
"Actually, I was sort of thinking we'd go gokarting."
*"I am Beelzebu-"* "BB,"Ro interrupted. "Beelzeboring is too long."
Ro has all but forgotten Jacque, who stopped ticking in fear of BB. While otherwise a completely emotionless piece of furniture, all things feared the prince of the Seraphim.
BB could not kill his summoner, it's considered quite rude in the demon community. He considered for a while the multiple ways he could torture her for months. He thought to himself that he might just tempt her with pride, do a practice run with her entire life to get back into shape. Why, it might even be fun. But after that he would *totally* sear the entire world in a 100 year long fire, he thought to himself.
He morphed himself into a handsome young man, seemingly 25 years old. He would be her man and she would be his plaything, at her death he would reign again. Patience is a virtue he whispers to himself.
Ro's eyes grew at his transformation. This 18th birthday might just top the time she got a nintendo 64 for christmas.
*"Very well, teach me to ride this, go cart. That was a very good idea you had..."* | |
[WP] You summon the most powerful and notorious demonic being in the universe. The reason why you summoned it: You are lonely, and are in need of a friend. | "More tea Lucy?" The fallen angel sighed and reluctantly nodded. Brittney almost squealed at the interaction. Moving to Alaska with her parents, into her grannpappy's old house had left her without any friends to play with at the ripe age of 5.
Her father had insisted she read more to occupy her time, while he worked in his office. Her books, although beautifully illustrated, were boring. Her grannpappy's books on the other hand... the ones she found in the attic, were more to her liking. The pictures weren't colored except for shades of white, black and red. She couldn't read it really, just the stuff inbetween the lines, phonics written in pen.
She had been reading out loud to herself, basically the only way she knew how, when the lumbering creature appeared to her in her bedroom, in a flash of fire, smoke and a smell of what Brittney could only identify as daddy farts. At first Brittney thought he was a dog by the fur that marked his waist down, but the wings and hooves dispelled that notion. By the way in which he appeared to her, she knew he was magic, like disney magic, he had to be a fairy godmother or a genie! "Hello, little one." Rumbled a noise from the demons face, his voice box sounded alot like metal grinding together, amongst screaming souls which was his breathe.
Brittney's eyes were wide "How many wishes do I get!" Not wasting any moments for formalities. The beasts wings shuddered and what could be identified as a smile smeared his face. "One wish, at a cost of your immort-"
"I want you to play with me and be my friend, forever!" Screamed Brittney. *POOF*. In another flare of fire, smoke and daddy farts, they were in a large red stone cavern without an entrance or exit. Filled with all manner or childrens toys, as the smoke cleared and Brittney's excitement burst forth in the form of high pitch squeals and jumping up and down while simultaneously tugging the demon's wings.
The great beast looked around and involuntarily let out a "Fuck".
Edit: formatting. Yay! my first WP.
Edit: Thank you all for the kind words and the sweet, sweet karma. This is my first prompt so feedback would be cool, and I'm not much of a writer. Corrections would be cool too. | - Did you understand me? It just occured to me that you might not even speak my language.
- I UNDERSTAND. BUT YOU DO NOT.
- What do I not?
- I CAN NOT ACCEPT SUCH A DEAL. BEING LONELY IS NOT ENOUGHT TO SELL YOUR SOUL FOR. ONLY A SIMPLETON, OR A HARDCORE ATHEIST WOULD SIGN SUCH CONTRACT. ANY SOUL HAS TO BE GIVEN WITH THE GIVERS FULL CONSENT. MENTALLY UNDERDEVELOPED, OR CRAZY INDIVIDUALS CAN NOT...
- WHoa whoa whoa!! Who said anything about selling my soul? I only want company. So long as the candle burns, you have to stay. I did the math. Each candle burns for about eight hours, six to be safe, that makes 4 candles a day, or 1460 a year. In bulk is as cheap as 500 Dollars a year. A new dog would set me back a good 1,580 the first year! And I won't have to feed you or give you walks, change your water or sandbox. Having you as a pet is a bargain!
- A PET!? ME!!? YOU ARE CRAZY! AND AN IDIOT!
- Hey! No need to be mean, I meant no offense. Plus am I wrong?
- I'M A BEING FAR OLDER THAN THE WORLD YOU LIVE IN! YOU ARE PLAYING WITH POWERS YOU FAIL TO UNDERSTAND, MORTAL!
- What does that have to do with the price of butter?
- BY CALLING ON ME YOU ARE ALREADY BARREN FROM EVER ENTERING HEAVEN DIRECTLY! AND WHEN YOU GO TO HELL...
- I'm not going to hell, I've never hurt anyone by action or inaction. I live frugally, recycle, work from home for 84 hours a week so I can give as much money as I can to charities. And now for as many years I have left I will keep you from getting other peoples souls. Maybe 50 or 60 more years It might not be much for someone so old as you but you can't deny it has to have is karma weight.
- UNBELIVABLE.
- No, practical. I will let you alone to think it out. I have some source code to review for a NGO. See you in six!
|
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