Chapter Text
The few lit candles spread around the summoning candle provided a stark contrast to the otherwise pitch-black room. The blood used to draw it was starting to seep into the oak wood floor, drying brown as the human kneeled before it. They flipped through the leather book in their hands, panting from fading adrenaline, and finally stopped onto the page which contained what they needed. With a hesitant slice of their dagger, a drop of blood dripped onto the cream colored paper, forever staining the middle of it a deep, dark red.
Or so they assumed. A moment later, the blood seemed to clear. Only then did they realize that the book had begun to absorb the liquid, as if being accepted into its mass.
“D-Demon in black and red—“ The human took a worried glance to the doorframe behind them, stammering as they read, “I call to thee… from my plane to yours…”
Forcefully, they breathed in deeply. They’d already started the ritual, it was too late to stop now. “Answer me, from the world of the dead… My soul will be the, uhm, reward?”
The candles surrounding them flickered, covering them in darkness. Just as soon as they had opened their eyes, a glimmer of red flashed before them, the flames lighting once again. Before they could raise their head to face him, two fine dress shoes stepped into their vision. He was already here.
The man—the word “man” didn’t do him justice—stopped himself right at the edge of the messy summoning circle. A clearly practiced motion, as to not dirty his shoes. “Not the finest ritual I’ve seen… But, really, I shouldn’t set my expectations so high for you mortals.”
The human looked up, craning their neck to view the face of the person before them. He stared down at them, the lit end of his cigar weakly lighting up his red face. “Malak—“ They murmured, breathlessly.
“Ahh, so you do know who I am? Interesting.” The demon chuckled, puffing smoke as he did so.
He brushed imaginary dust from his suit, tilting his nose up at them. Despite his lack of eyes, they could feel his gaze search over them, “Get on with it, then. I’m quite busy.”
The human swallowed, shakily getting up from the carpet and straightening their posture. The man was tall, they noticed, standing around half a head taller than them. “I-I need to get out of here. Now.” They said, hoping the tremble in their voice wasn’t too obvious.
“Is that a demand?” The demon laughed, embarrassment building in their chest, “I would at least expect a prepared sacrifice, if you plan on learning your place so soon.”
They opened their mouth to speak, only for the words to die in their throat. “Sacrifice?”
Malak tilted his head, tapping his cigar absent mindedly, “Pity. I thought you might’ve known what you were doing, for a moment.”
“I don’t…” The human mumbled, flipping through the pages of their book. How could they have missed it? “I-I don’t have a sacrifice. Please, I just—“
He chuckled, darkly, as he began to pace around the edge of the summoning circle. “So desperate, aren’t you? Mortals who summon me usually are… I’m afraid I don’t have much time to waste on it, as amusing as it can be.” He smirked, blowing smoke, “If you can’t bring me an offering, I suppose I’ll take my leave.”
“Wait!” They gasped, stepping closer, “If you get me out, I’ll do anything... I just need time.”
The demon cooed, “It seems like you’ve already run out, I’m afraid.”
The mortal turned their head back to the door. They could already hear the heavy footsteps approaching, echoing off the staircase. The man hummed, amused, bringing a hand up to snap himself far away from the dark house. Before he could do anything, they spluttered, “I-I could work for you. Please.”
Malak seemed to pause, keeping his talons still in the air. He made an odd sound disbelief, “Work?”
“Servitude, grunt-work, whatever. I don’t care as long as I’m away from…”
He stared at them, cigar hanging from his angled teeth in an almost bored fashion. Whatever the expression was, he hardly seemed convinced. A sudden pound from the other side of the door alerted them, and they whisked their head around to face it. They were too late.
“Normally…” The demon began, his voice almost a whisper, “I’d find such any other offer unworthy.”
The figure at the door pounded its fist once more. Its voice shattered the quiet atmosphere, loud yet unintelligible.
“But such a unique proposition, from a mortal, no less? It’s almost too amusing to refuse…”
He grinned, fixing his tie as he outstretched his hand, “As long as you swear your soul will be mine.”
They gazed down at his claws, feeling a mix of relief and terror in their chest. They’d read enough about the ritual to know the price it took for their wish to be granted. Still, the demon’s hand seemed to taunt them. To have their souls taken upon death could mean… anything.
At the moment, the sound of the door lock unlatching deterred them from doing anything rash. They’d rather be trapped in hell than trapped here.
As soon as their hand touched Malak’s, time seemed to freeze. The opening door was suddenly far, far away, unable to hurt them anymore. When the light from the hall hit the dark room, all that could be seen was the bloody blade and the summoning circle that had taken the them away.