Fiend, Interrupted.

“-didn’t work. Put the book back we’ll try again another time. Do not tell Mum and Dad I’ve been showing you this.”

There was the telltale slap and tickle, the usual micro blast of agony and I found myself in the middle of a scrawled chalk circle. I noticed it had an added second binding to boot. Some brat stood across from me with his huge bespectacled eyes looking at me from behind a large book. It looked like a dog-eared copy of Caspar’s fifth edition of Basic Summoning. I am anything but basic. The room was dark but the walls were dressed with dinosaurs…dinosaurs.

A table next to the brat had more books, one of them a bible and what looked to be a basin of holy water. Cute. The transference always hits you with a dizzy spell, lesser demons would be floored by it. One second I was happily carrying out a bit of mischief on behalf of Old Sam in the Big Apple and then poof, I’m swaying in the dark with bloody dinosaurs. The circle below me was complete, without error. You can imagine how I felt, one takes a certain pride in ones work. I do not like being interrupted.

“What the fuck Timmy!” I yelled trying to shake off the last of the unsteadiness, “I am supposed to be in New York getting a senator into a very uncomfortable and compromising position. I had him bent over and ready to…I mean how rude can you be?!”

“My name isn’t Timmy, it’s Jack, remember that,” it said in a little voice. It had to be its first summoning, playing about with mum or dads books maybe, but something had gone wrong, crossed wires as it were.

“I don’t give a shit mate, send me back I’m on the clock here, I have a reputation to uphold, jobs half done,” I gave it my best glower but it just stood there looking at me. Maybe it was defective. There was a tinkling of chains, a flounder of footsteps and a taller boy with dark mop of hair and makeup leapt into the room, pants strung low with what looked like dog chains. Centuries of existence yet I’ll never understand the fashion these kids get into, from neck ruff’s to dog collars.

“Shaun look, it worked,” the kid yelled, he was small, the book almost as big as his torso, ratty brown hair and a slightly confused look on his face. The older one quickly began scrolling through its phone. Great, another keyboard summoner. Google and Youtube had a lot to answer for in this day and age. What did these kids think we were, dial-a-demon. One second they were flipping bottles and dabbing, the next they were dredging up fiends from the Pits. I inched a Prada clad foot forward and the second binding flared sending sharp shock up my leg.

“Don’t try to get out, I have a second binding and Haldim’s Containment above you,” the little one said, it cocked its head to the side like a dog “You don’t look like a demon from the sixth circle.”

“And you hardly look like a summoning savant,” I looked up to see the Containment, a charcoal circle perfectly drawn in parallel with the chalk circle below, complete with the accompanying runes. “Hell’s bells kid what have you done?” I had no clue what was happening, to my knowledge no one had ever summoned a demon that had already been summoned to the mortal plane. Something wasn’t right. I do not like being out of the loop.

“The doors and windows are coated with Friars Soot, just in case,” he added.

“Jack, what have you done?” the older boy managed. The younger one ignored him.

“I’ll be damned,” I muttered. That was an ice breaker, the kids didn’t get it, I’m wasted on children. Friars Soot is not something you just have lying about, it was scarcer than tooth in a smack heads grin. Potent stuff.

“You’re not what I was expecting,” said the younger one. Looking down at myself I was wearing an admittedly attractive young woman in a state of undress, just a riding crop and heels. Hardly what you think of when you are summoning an ancient infernal evil from beyond, or even New York.

“I was already summoned, you can’t interfere with an already summoned demon. There are rules,” I allowed two great horns to erupt through my skull, blood leaked from a slack mouth and wings tore from the woman’s back. The skin peeled from the face as I exaggerated the classic devil features. “I will tear the soul from your body pathetic human!” I snapped. It was a good effort, one that had worked for me in the past, but it didn’t get the reaction I hoped for. I had once scared a summoner to death, heart attack, dropped on the spot. The kid just adjusted his glasses and looked bored. The older one simply stood, mouth flapping like a goldfish. Children these days, so desensitised, I blame the parents.

“Casper’s says that once bound, you must do as I say,” he spoke in a matter of fact tone. He was right, once summoned a demon is bound to carry out the wishes of the entity that summoned them, but how did this little turd even know my name. I’m not one to needlessly blow my own horn but I am on a rarefied level, I am summoned by the elite for tasks that crumble empires. You don’t just find me in the sodding phone book. The frame job in New York was just a way to pass the time, a favour for an old friend. I was an arch-fiend. I kicked at the bindings again and shrugged my wings.

“Do your mum and dad know you have a demon in your bedroom? I bet they would like to find out,” still in the winged form I called out “MUUUUM, DAA-”

“Silence,” The command was instant, my voice simply ended. Something was off here, no prepubescent brat in a dinosaur covered bedroom could have this much sway with the infernal. It wasn’t possible. I used the nose on the devils face and took a long breath. Crayons, plastic, paper all normal smells for an eight year old’s room, he had a half eaten cheese and ham sandwich going stiff under his bed but that wasn’t a sign of magical manipulation. No lingering taint of another plane, no divine odour or covered scent. Just a boy who smelled of, well nothing, the boy had no scent. The older one smelled of sweat, cheap incense and cheaper weed but the little one…I began scanning the circles for some small flaw, some overlook rune. I needed a way out.

“Jack you have to get this thing out of here!” Shaun had found his vocals and was beginning to panic, good. I grinned wide, splitting the face further and ran a claw down what was left of my curves. He looked sick.

“It worked Shaun, I did it. We can finally get to work,” the little one looked at its brother for the first time, “whats the matter? You said you have done this loads.” Isn’t it sweet when our heroes fall. It was almost worth the all the aggro to watch that little snots image of his big brother shatter. Those are the moments I’m in the business for. Lipstick boy was shaking his head.

“This is bad, this is bad, this is bad.” Oh goody, I love a teenage meltdown. The younger one took one look at me.

“Make him stop, but don’t hurt him,” he commanded, and there was no misunderstanding it was a command. I shrugged the wings again, why make life difficult for yourself, who am I to disobey an order. With a casual wave of my claw the blubbering teenager was frozen still, hands gripping his hair, terror welling up in his eyes. Where’s a camera when you need one. He rocked slightly before falling backwards to lean awkwardly against the wall with a nice thud, stiff as a plank. The little one sighed and ran a hand through his tangled mess of hair. A gesture he was too young for. I switched down to a more human scale. A man in a fine double-breasted suit, Armani, we had a good working relationship with Armani. I motioned for my voice. “Speak,” the brat commanded as it checked on its sibling.

“Tell me how you interfered and brought me here and I will do anything you ask,” I said in a normal voice. If fear doesn’t work, you might catch more flies with honey. The boy turned and tossed the book onto the table with the others, he stepped closer. Good, if I could get the little snot to spill how he did it I was sure I could work out a way to do it myself. This boy could be my key out of bondage, not the New York kind either. It could be freedom, actual freedom. He stopped outside the circle. Shoulders back, chin held high. There was something in the kids eyes. It smiled at me.

“You will do what I tell you to do,” This cocky little human could go far,  if he lived long enough, “but bring me the Ashes of Lucifer’s Wings, and I will tell you everything. Everything you need to know to free yourself,” Already a step ahead of me. I am a demon of the sixth circle, arch-fiend, I am born into blasphemy spitting curses and vomiting heresy. The smile that boy gave me sent a shiver down my spine, or any spine I’ve worn since. Jack, the little boy wonder, waved his hand and I was dismissed. The Ashes of Lucifer’s Wings, sure thing. No problem. Fuck.

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