Work Text:
The Darkest Night
“This is stupid,” he tells the air, just for the sake of saying it out loud and so he feels like he’s at least acknowledged how terribly asinine this whole procedure is. It doesn’t stop the mantra of ‘stupid stupid stupid stupid’ from playing on a loop in his head. God- this really was stupid… What is he doing?
He takes the lid off the shoebox and his ears are greeted by weak and distressed-sounding chirping. He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his jaw to stop his lower lip from trembling. As stupid as this is it would be even more stupid if he were to cry over it. This is 100% his stupid decision and it would be even more selfish when Tyler wasn’t going to be the one suffering for it.
He peers down at the mass of black feathers and blood making a mess at the bottom of the box. He’d caught the neighbor's cat in the process of batting around the poor crow with her paws. Clearly toying with it, long black feathers sticking out of her mouth. He’d earned himself a series of long, thin scratches on his forearm before managing to scare her off. Not without hissing and yowling at him in displeasure for her stolen meal/ plaything.
Tyler kneels in the dirt, placing the shoebox on the ground and moving the lid off to the side. He fumbles to pull everything he needs out of his pockets. He bites his lip contemplatively as he takes inventory, eyes scanning over everything he’s laid out on the ground before him; pocket knife, matches, lighter fluid, a small plastic bag of dried herbs. He furrows his brows, feeling something’s missing.
“What else, what else?” he thinks out loud, casting his eyes up towards the empty, dark sky. It’s eerie and beautiful, almost peaceful out in the middle of nowhere like this. Higher elevation, trees surrounding him, the air cleaner and thinner. Not a hint of civilization for miles. He could pretend he’s on a whole other planet where there’s no moon. Forget his name, fade into the Earth and let morning never come.
Barely there sad sounding cries bring him back to the present and with a start, he reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. There he finds a picture of himself he cut out of his Junior yearbook. He needs to hurry. He’s running out of time.
He wouldn’t have even bothered to try this again if not for the timing and the poor creatures' ill-fated encounter. He makes sure the box is centered in the lines he’d dug into the Earth then pulls out a crumpled piece of notebook paper. Woodenly he recites the words in broken Latin, dumping the bag of spicy, woodsy-smelling herbs onto the battered body of the crow.
/To you who are listening, I give this life as an off-offering/
Hands shaking he picks up the pocket knife and presses it to the month-old line he’d carved into the palm of his hand. He hisses as the skin splits warmth spilling down his arm and he picks up the picture from his yearbook dribbling blood on it before placing that in the box too.
/And a taste of my soul/
Nervously he sprays a bit of lighter fluid into the box. He’d read that he’d probably need to use an accelerant but the website hadn’t specified what kind he should use. He really hopes this doesn’t fuck it up completely.
“Worthless it may be,” he finishes in English to himself. With a snick, he ignites the match, the only speck of light on this moonless night. He watches it burn until the flame threatens to kiss the tips of his fingers before he drops the match into the shoebox and watches the flames consume it all.
---
It’s quiet now, no longer is there any weak croaking to torment him. His eyes are stinging with unshed tears and he takes a harsh breath trying to hold them at bay. The burning smell overwhelms him, stinging his nostrils. A sudden wave of nausea rolls over him and he chokes on it and gags.
He breathes through it but as the nausea recedes guilt takes the space. And now he really is crying, just another thing he failed at. He knew this was stupid from the start but the reality of it all is just starting to set in.
He closes his eyes, takes a shuddering breath, and sings;
“I need
Something
To kill me
I am tired
Of taking
My own life”
The shrill sound of a crow calling breaks the silence causing Tyler to nearly jump out of his skin. He whips his head around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bird that sounds as if it was just above his head. He ducks as the bird cries again almost right in his ear.
Then the blaring sound of his car alarm piercing through the cold air, pressing insistently against his ear drums.
“Whaat the fuck!” he reaches for his car keys so he can silence the alarm.
A foreign voice startles him, asking, “Shut that thing up, will you?”
“Shit-” he spins so fast he slips on the loose dirt and lands on his ass.
The stranger makes this low, amused sound and stoops down to reach toward him. Tyler flinches but he’s just retrieving Tyler’s keys so he can point them at the car, causing it to chirp twice before stopping the alarm. Silence falls over them again, aside from Tyler’s frantic breathing.
“That’s better,” the man says, matter of factly. Tyler stares up at him, eyes dancing over the stranger’s features searching for anything out of the ordinary. Almond-shaped eyes, hooked nose, wry smile.
“Who-”
“Who do you think?” the man interrupts the question, “you called me, remember?”
Tyler is still speechless, “I-” he starts, but no other words come. It looks like nothing he envisioned; he looks /human./
Tyler stares at the demon, his mouth suddenly very dry.
The man- demon- holy shit! Shakes his head and stoops to heft Tyler under the armpits to bring him to his feet. He sways unsteadily, fists clenched on the man’s chest. He jerks away as soon as he gets his feet under him.
“I wasn’t really expecting it to work,” he admits
“Technically you didn’t do it right, it was barely a spell. Lighter fluid, that mercy kill of a sacrifice, and that Latin! What did you use Google Translate?” part of him wants to feel offended at the ridicule because obviously, it worked! On the other hand- holy shit it worked. “But I have to admire your persistence, I heard you. Both times.”
Tyler’s mouth falls open, both times? So did he really hear him the first time too? He wants to ask about that but instead what comes out of his mouth is, “Google Translate? You know what that is?”
The demon scoffs and shakes his head, “But you came,”
“I came.” he parrots and reaches out to start brushing dust off of Tyler’s shoulders from his tumble.
Tyler jerks under his hands, taking another step back, their eyes meet for a moment before Tyler drops his gaze looking down at his feet, “What do I call you?”
He sees the demon shrug, “Whatever,”
“Oh-” there’s an awkward pause while Tyler tries desperately to wrap his head around the last few minutes. The demon just stands there and lets him.
“Wh-why did you decide to come?”
“Your persistence made me curious. Plus, I liked your song,” Tyler doesn’t know how to take a compliment from a demon. Doesn’t know if he should be flattered or not, “Is that why you called? Do you want me to kill you?” he asks, head tilted curiously, warm almond eyes searching Tyler’s face.
Fear seizes him, he shakes his head numbly, backing off again. The demon’s eyes flicker to Tyler’s retreating feet and he freezes. If he needed to, could he outrun him?
Curiosity piqued, he asks, “Do you always look like this?”
“No, I don’t. But this is the easiest way for you and me to communicate, plus I don’t really want to scare you off. You look one wrong word from bolting, to be honest.”
Tyler clears his suddenly dry throat, images of demons he’s seen depicted in church conjuring in his mind. “Could I even get away if I wanted to?”
Amused again, the demon evades the question expertly, “I can’t take anything which isn’t freely given.” Tyler senses a ring of truth in that statement, but what was a summoning if not an invitation?
“Josh-” the demon’s eyes snap back up to his face. “I wanna call you Josh.” he seems to take the name easily, nodding in acceptance.
“Biblical,” he comments.
“Is that ok?” he rushes to ask, suddenly worrying he’s offending him.
“The name is more for your sake than mine. Doesn’t change what I am. And what do I call you?”
“T-Tyler,” he answers automatically before he has the chance to worry about revealing his name to a demon. He winces, God, he’s being so stupid!
“Tyler,” Josh says, the name rolling off his tongue like he’s trying it out, tasting it. Tyler watches him with wide eyes, “You did have a plan for when you summoned me, didn’t you?
“Well yeah- kinda,” he finishes lamely
“Kinda?” Josh parrot’s back at him. Tyler can’t tell if he’s amused or irritated or both.
“I wanted to see if it were possible, if- if thing’s like you were real,”
Now Josh is watching Tyler, his facial expression completely unreadable. Now he knows, but he doesn’t feel in awe or relieved or like he’s found any answers… he feels empty
“I’m going to hell,” he says with a certainty he didn’t have before. It was always something he suspected and dreaded. When he was young and skipped out on Sunday school to listen in on the service and find out what the adults were learning. And time and time again the same question kept coming up: Why?
He’d come to the insistent revelation long ago, been convinced somehow he was evil. Because for some reason he just couldn’t understand everything made him ask: Why?
Here was the proof. He felt that he and Josh shared that, this entity and he were very different but when it came down to it they were cut from the same rebellious cloth. They were both damned one way or another.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Josh reaches out and takes hold of his cut hand in an unyielding grip.
“Fuck-“ he hisses, trying to jerk out of the demon’s grasp, now he is afraid. Fingertips press insistently on the cut on his palm, Josh’s grip far too firm for Tyler to escape.
Josh tutts at him in mock concern and squeezes, Tyler’s knees buckle, and lands on the dirt on his knees.
“What are you doing?!” He thinks he feels nails tearing at the parted skin and yelps, starting to feel light-headed he claws at Josh’s hand.
After a few moments of fruitless struggle, he goes limp all at once and Josh’s grip loosens. He raises his head to watch as Josh brings his bloodied hand to his lips, shudders as he licks at the cut, a soft little hurt sound escaping him.
“Interesting,” Josh comments. Tyler stares, too afraid to run.
Interesting?? What does that mean? Tyler tries to jerk his hand free but Josh holds tight.
He risked paradise just to see if he could. “What was that you sang to me earlier?”
“What?” he asks, bewildered.
He lost faith, and he did something about it. “You sang to me, I remember,” Josh answers confidently.
“I wasn’t singing to /you/,” he starts looking up at the demon and realizes how offensive that may sound, “I was just singing in general. I- didn’t think you were listening.”
Josh kneels in the dirt, their faces once again level, “It’s what brought me here,” His voice, it's powerful. The mortal's spell technically failed but Josh still heard him.
“That’s- just how I feel,” he says, looking down at the dirt, suddenly feeling unable to meet his gaze. Josh squeezes his hand again and Tyler yelps at the sting, his eyes jumping back to Josh’s face.
“But they were your words?” This seems important to Josh somehow.
Tyler shrugs, before ducking his head and nodding. Josh smirks and stands. And his blood, there's something about it. Something loud. The scent of it, it called just as his voice did.
Josh hauls him up and leans into his space far too close for comfort. Then there’s the taste of copper on his tongue, foreign lips against his. He tries to back away, and find his footing. But Josh holds steadfast. This is somehow the last thing he was expecting. It doesn’t feel like a kiss, it feels like a claim, a taste.
“You and me,” Josh breathes into his cheek, the smell and taste of copper invading his senses, “we’re gonna make a lot of noise,” Teeth nick at his lower lip and then he’s released. Josh steps away, Tyler’s keys jingling in his grasp.
—-
The truth of it is God’s gone quiet
Maybe he died
He invented mortality so it follows that he could make himself mortal as well
Or maybe he was sleeping
Or on vacation
The order of things as they’ve been since before the creation of the Earth is nonexistent
Yes, life is still sparked. Things live and die, souls depart the Earth and find their places in the afterlife
But Josh discovered something not too long ago:
Free will
Demons rebel, it is in their nature. But they are governed by a set of laws, absolute in their foundations
Josh intends to break those laws
He will not harvest this soul. He will follow him to the end of the Earth
Make their voices as loud as they can
And wake up God in order to demand retribution