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The litany in Latin filled the still air of the room, the flames danced around the circle. The flames changed color, from red to green, then red again, every few seconds.
It was almost a fascinating sight: Tim wanted to see a rite since he was six. Too bad that he was in the center of the pentacle and was about to be fed to a demon.
He tried to move his hands, but his ropes had been tightened tightly, wrapping them around his arms. Dad hadn't even bothered not to hurt him anymore, going to squeeze on the parts where he'd raged with the knife.
Tim did not know what they had carved on his arms and abdomen. He knew it was important to the ritual.
The offer of the firstborn. Only a sacrifice of this magnitude will guarantee success.
At least, so the hooded man had said, adding something about family bond and loss.
He didn't think that his death would be a great loss to his parents, not when they were so willing to feed him to a demon.
Will this affect the ritual? Or will simple biology be enough to grant their wish? Not that it mattered, he won't be there to see it.
"It's taking too long," Dad growled, glaring at him as if it were Tim's fault that the demon hadn't shown up yet.
"Be patient."
“Janet, we're wasting time. This guy doesn't know what he's doing. "
"He is also the only one who will not report us to the exorcists," she hissed.
"So wait and shut up."
The man obeyed, but the more time passed, the more impatient he became. The fire show hadn't convinced him, and Tim was beginning to think it was a farce.
It would certainly not be the first time that a charlatan has convinced people that he can summon demons and make contracts with them, revealing himself only to be a skilled illusionist.
"I guess they'll have to find another way to save Drake Industries," he thought, feeling the blood run down his arms.
There were so many other ways to do it. Much better ways than sacrificing Tim. But his mother was not a patient woman, and his father was not the businessman he thought he was. For them, the fastest way was a demonic pact, with all due respect to their souls.
By now he was convinced that it was all a staging when the pentacle lit up green and he felt excruciating pain, like so many pins being stuck in his flesh.
He wanted to scream, but the gag prevented him.
Please make it stop. Make it stop.
There was a flash of green light. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there was a teenager above him, with black hair and red eyes. He had tattooed marks under his eyes and tattoos on his bare arms. He was dressed all in black, but Tim didn't see any horns or tail.
All in all, he looked more like a soft version of Darth Maul than a demon.
"Well? Who called me? "
As expected, the mother came forward, "We want a contract with you. We offer you our firstborn son, our flesh and blood. In return, you'll have to get us back to being among the richest in Gotham and save our company. "
Clear and concise. One had to be direct with the demons and make sure that the words were not deliberately skillfully bent to the will of the demon.
Even a comma was enough to change the meaning of a sentence and the pact would not go according to the wishes of the contractor.
The demon did not speak. He stared at mom, then Tim, with what Tim knew was anger. Wasn't he satisfied with Tim?
He wanted to apologize, but he was gagged.
"How old is he?" the demon asked, his voice full of raw anger. Tim couldn't help but tremble. It was all real. There was a demon there. He was about to die.
"He's eight."
The demon grinned, "So, to save your lazy asses, you thought it was a good idea to tear a baby apart."
Mom didn't blink, “We won't tear him apart. You will do it. "
"Sure, because the demons are the monsters, not the fucking humans who think sacrificing a child is a perfectly logical solution."
"You're not in a position to argue," Dad interjected, putting mom aside. He had never liked being on the sidelines.
“See that circle? You are forced to do as we tell you. "
At that point, the demon laughed. He reached out and the fire hit the sorcerer, knocking him to the ground, unconscious.
“You are idiots. - the demon said, moving away from Tim and overlooking the two adults. - First, you called a rookie for a dirty job. You didn't even check that he used the right spells for the magic circle. This stuff can't make me obey. Second, I am an incubus. The wrong kind of demon if you want to get rich, the right kind for a fuck. Which, by the way, I wouldn't do with either of you. Never. And third ... "
He took them by the shoulders, in a painful grip that made them whine. The shadow behind him lengthened, and his voice deepened, "You pissed me off. It will be a pleasure to let you taste a little bit of Hell and ... "
"Jaybird!"
"Jason!"
The demon said through his teeth, "And here's the cavalry to spoil the moment."
Tim's eyes widened. The exorcists!
They were two men, one adult and one younger, in the clothes of the order. But the younger one was weird, his eyes were too blue and he had marks on his neck.
The demon didn't let go of Tim's parents, “Hey there. Come to enjoy the party? "
The older man said, "Jason, let them go. Dick will take care of it. "
Unexpectedly, the demon did what he was asked to do. Dad tried to escape, but Dick kicked him in the face and knocked him down.
Tim blinked. He hadn't even seen him move.
Mum, more wisely, raised her hands in surrender. She realized it was impossible to escape.
Meanwhile, the demon had returned to Tim, and the child trembled, expecting to be used as a human shield. It was not so: the demon untied him and removed the gag.
"Are you better, little one?"
Not trusting his voice, Tim nodded. It was all so weird, he didn't even know what to say. Before, he thought he would die eaten by a demon. Now the demon was helping him and he even seemed to know the exorcists.
"Why are you here?" the exorcist asked, his voice hard.
“Look Bruce, I was getting bored. You put me on the bench, do you remember? "
Tim was barely following the conversation. He was so tired. But the exorcist did not seem to have any intention of casting out the demon. They seemed to know each other very well. What kind of relationship did they have?
He had heard of tales of demons occasionally collaborating with exorcists for their purposes, but he thought they were just stories.
Here's another thing to add about what he was wrong, along with believing that Santa existed and that his parents loved him.
"Did you think that responding to an evocation was a good idea ?!" he blurted out, his voice too loud and scared Tim more.
Why couldn't they just be silent for five minutes? He didn't ask for much.
Jason let out a sound of disdain, "I wanted to mess it up a bit. Then, better me than some asshole like Lex Luthor. "
“Mess it up… Jason, what if you were asked to kill someone? You would have been forced to obey. "
Jason frowned, "Those guys had no idea what they were doing."
“What if someone competent had happened instead? Responding to an evocation is dangerous. "
"So I should have let someone else go and take him?!" Jason barked, making both Tim and Bruce jump.
Bruce had a shocked expression, "Did they use him as the price of the contract?"
"Not only. Look at his arms. "
Tim didn't understand, but if Bruce's expression was any indication, the cuts meant something.
"Runes? On a child? " the man's voice was dangerous, and for a moment it reminded him of his father. He felt his eyes pinch, but he held himself back.
Mom and dad didn't like it when he cried. They said tears were for the weak.
You're a Drake, Timothy. Do you want to shame us with such childish behavior?
Tim never cried. He hadn't even done that when dad had cut the flesh off his arms and dug out to make the marks deeper.
" See? You're pissed too. "
“I was worried about you, Jason. You are going through a delicate phase ... "
The demon interrupted him, "Don't patronize me, Bruce. You didn't keep Dick locked up in the house when he started developing his powers. "
“Dick is a harab, Jason. His powers don't drive people crazy trying to ... "
Bruce hesitated, looking anxiously at Tim. Jason grinned, “Everyone wants a piece of him, old man. Even if he is a demon of death and not of ... "
“Jason. There is a child here. "
The demon raised his hands, "I'm giving him some fun, Bruce. Lilith knows if this brat doesn't need it. "
Tim didn't hear what Bruce said: exhaustion, a month with almost no food, and fear finally got the better of him, and the boy passed out.
Tim heard voices.
"…are you sure?"
“Jaybird, it's my job. I know what I'm saying. "
"It's been two days and not ... ah, the sleeping handsome is back among us."
Tim groaned.
He was in a large bedroom, the curtains covered the window, filtering the light into the room.
He made a face.
He was too loud. His head hurt and he wanted to go back to sleep. The pain in his stomach, however, prevented him. He tried to sit up, but he was still too weak. He nearly fell, but steady hands grabbed him.
Jason was holding him as if he were frail, a precious thing and not his missed sacrificial victim. Tim felt his chest claw in terror.
"Are you ... are you here for the contract?"
"What?"
He swallowed, "Will you eat me?"
The demon grimaced, “Urgh, no. I don't do things like that, it's disgusting. Besides, I already said I didn't have to respect any contracts. "
"How can you still be in the human world?"
“Duh, I live here. "
Tim's eyes widened, “Am I in Hell? "
It was a logical thing to think about: it was known that demons lived in Hell, and exorcists sent them back there and did everything to keep them from returning to the mortal world.
Dick laughed heartily, frowned upon by Jason, “No, little bird. You are not in Hell. You're in Wayne Manor, home to Gotham's coolest exorcists. "
Tim blushed, embarrassed. "Oh ... well, I had to understand since you're here ..."
He broke off, remembering that Bruce had called Dick a harab. A demon of death.
“You're a demon,” he whispered to him, his heart racing. Why were there two demons there? And above all why did an exorcist think it was a good idea to collaborate with demons?
Sometimes it happened, but two? Two was madness.
Dick continued to smile, “Wow, you're smart. Nobody understands it right away, not when I'm in this form."
"I swear if you start bragging again ..."
"Guys, what are you doing?"
Bruce entered, not wearing the clothes of the order of exorcists. He looked almost normal, he was very thin, his black hair untidy and left to cover his face.
Tim was almost unsure that he was the same man who had swooped into his house and saved him.
"Dickhead wants to show off here."
“Jaybird, so you kill me. You will kill your older brother. "
"If you don't shut up, I'll throw you out the window."
"Joke on you, I can fly," Dick gloated, and Tim found himself once again wondering if this was normal.
Demons were wild beasts who enjoyed the suffering of humans. But his father had never touched him with the care that Jason was having at the time. Nor had he had any qualms about hurting him.
Bruce rubbed his eyes, “Boys, will you give me a moment alone with our guest? Go to Alfred and tell him he's awake. "
"Don't scare him, old man," Jason warned him, and Tim almost regretted the loss.
When they were alone, Bruce sat on the edge of the bed, looking more uncomfortable than Tim. He began, "Timothy ..."
"Tim ... I mean, if you want, you can call me Tim."
“Well, Tim. Do you know what the marks on your arms are? "
Tim looked at the arms, fully bandaged. There were still purple marks around his wrists. He hesitated to say, "Is this some kind of spell?"
" Something like that. The man who performed the ritual was not a real sorcerer, he had confused and botched knowledge. "
This confirmed Tim's suspicions. Only a scammer or a charlatan would have agreed to do such a ritual for his parents. When desperate, he is willing to accept anything.
Bruce continued, “The marks on your skin were not for the ritual. They are mystical but did not serve as an offering. "
" What are they for?" he asked him, not wanting to think that his father had hurt him unnecessarily. If those signs did not serve the ritual, why give them to him?
“Channeling of magic. The druids tattooed them to increase their mystical abilities. "
Tim arched an eyebrow, "I'm not a druid."
“No, but you have magical potential. If not, Jason would not have been summoned. "
Tim remembered the pain he had felt before Jason appeared, the feeling of pins sticking inside him. He also remembered how the fake sorcerer seemed surprised that a demon had appeared as if he shouldn't have.
"I didn't perform the ritual."
“You have been used as a magic tool. You provided what the caster lacked. "
It was strangely effective. Ironic that he had provided a way to get himself killed. If Jason hadn't come, if another demon had come, maybe Tim wouldn't be here now.
“So what are you going to do to me? Will you kill me? " he asked him in a faint voice. Exorcists were not very fond of magic users either. They didn't pursue them but if they had the chance to kill them, they didn't waste it.
"No," was Bruce's immediate reply.
“But you said I have magical potential. I'm a monster and ... "
" You are a child. Bruce cut him off. - What you can do does not mean that you are evil. "
"But the exorcists ..."
“Not all exorcists believe that every supernatural being is evil. Just as not all human beings are good. "
" My parents…"
“They won't hurt you anymore. You are safe, Tim. "
Tim desperately wanted to believe it.