Chapter Text
You stand over an alter. Your own shitty alter to be exact. A cardboard box covered in herbs sealed with several different colors of wax, the Enlightened Eye's sigil carved on top of it. You've got all the right materials but because of this demons near obsession for aesthetics you doubt you’ll make the cut. The nearby grandfather clock tolls nearer to the midnight hour, you nearly tip over the candles you lit to grab the dagger you have. You closing your eyes and focus, positioning your forearm over the table, mentally preparing to make the slice.
The reality of your situation sets in and chases your daydreams of better times away. Of frolicking in the forest with Jade. Spending the holidays in the kitchen with Jane, making food for the rest of your family. Getting in water balloon fights with June when you and Jade came to visit in the summer months, if your cousins father were home right now he'd probably engage you in a stern fatherly conversation, reassuring you that this is drastically unnecessary and you know you’d believe him. You will not allow yourself to lose your resolve for a second. With those thoughts out of you quickly flick the blade across your forearm.
You squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Dizziness washes over. You wait with baited breath for the tell-tale change in pressure. You take stock of your surroundings as best you can without your sight. Silence. The refrigerator humming.
The ac purring. Lights flickering. Your breath. You shift on the wooden floorboards beneath you as the ache in your knees grows. You let out a sigh letting your shoulders slump. It didn’t work and you’re not quite sure if you should be feeling relieved or horrified that your call has been dropped.
The sustained silence of the house is oddly comforting in this scenario. Fizz....Pop! The shattering of lights. A cascade of glass falling onto tile, linoleum, and laminated wood. You’re eyelids snap open and you search for your culprit attempting to stand only for your knees to fail to support your weight.The thump on the table behind you punctuates the presence.
You turn yourself around on your arms dragging your exposed thighs on the floor with a chafing squeak.
“Consarn it Strider, you better replace those!"
"Too bad bro, just the price you pay to negotiate with the Piper."
"I didn't send for you bro and you bloody well know it!"
"Ouch, be careful or you might hurt an infernal guy's feelings talking like that."
"What do you want Strider."
"I'm here because you summoned me remember? Nice setup by the way." He claws at the wax with a gold tipped claw.
"Summon you? I was looking for someone else."
"My daughter Rose, right? Well, as the highest ranking member of our little family you know how it goes."
"Ah so I take it she's given you the liberty to veto this house call." You cock a brow at him.
"Right on the money. She didn’t find this one of importance.”
"So then let's get this show on the road, state your request." From his crouched position on the coffee table he waves you on. He's going to scratch the glass with his eagle talon feet. You thank the Gods that he didn't manifest with wings this time. He absolutely would take the time to "accidentally" knock each the fanciful harlequins down. If that were to happen you don't think you could ever bring yourself to look at your uncle again. His uncle-y disapproval would probably prove to be too much for your poor body to handle and you'd disintegrate instantly.
"Well for starters, I'm requesting you never do that again."
"Ever so vague."
"I want information on the whereabouts of my sister."
"Have you tried a private investigator?"
"A private- A private investigator! Do you think I'm so gung-ho about summoning a demon from the fiery pits of Hell that I haven't even considered that! Oh look I stubbed a toe, better get the brimstone brigade on my ass! Sell my soul over a damn cracked nail." You stutter in indignation, he grins his shit eating grin at you from his new perch amusedly. A warm orange light emits from behind his shades.
"Your ass is a nice one, but I don't think even your fine ass wants to self your whole soul to a demon."
"My whole soul?"
"Yes, I want the whole thing in its entirety." You realize you’re closer to him than you thought you were as his calloused hand tips your chin up to look into his now unconcealed eyes! You whip yourself to the ground from your previous sitting position so hard your head smacks against the floor. Shit! Putting your hands on the floor you quickly push yourself up from it, twisting around briefly to arm yourself. Disoriented it makes every action you take feel a million times more stupid than it would feel otherwise.
"Bugger off!" You hold the knife out in front of you. He stands on the coffee table and looks down at you. He laughs.
"Scared, English? Is this why your little supernatural studies ended so quickly? Want to dance with the demons but have two left feet?" You won't respond to that. Eyes shut you grip the handle like a prayer. "Woah woah woah, no need to be so scared. I'm not going to slurp up your soul here and now, take a guy to dinner first. But seriously are you just going to let her go? Give up so easily when the solution is in the palm of your hand?"
"It's not that simple!"
"Just how long do you think you have before she turns up dead."
"Stop."
"Ok, I seem to have gone too far there. Let me try this again. If you want to see your sister again I have the means to help you find her, but her time is likely running out. You can leave, or you can give me your soul, what will it be?" He squats down once again and offers an arm out to you.
“…So be it.” You say and grab his hand. You two shake on it, sealing the deal. He lays a fingertip on your forehead, your eyes roll to the back of your skull passing out. With that he takes his leave and vanishes.