01 | Elijah

Trying to summon a demon in the middle of my bedroom probably wasn’t a good idea.

I was known for being an exemplary student. This didn’t suit my MO. But I was curious. And when I was curious… things happened.

Like that time I’d been sure the cat hanging off my windowsill had talked to me. I’d managed to rescue her and set her free, and I knew she’d said thank you before leaving, even if no one believed me.

So yeah, summoning a demon might not be a good idea, but I was going to try it anyway. If nothing else, it’d help me escape the boredom of this lousy day.

I’d found the journal—five bucks says you can guess where—tucked into a corner in the self-help section of the college library. Can’t finish your homework on time? Summon a demon to do it for you!

Well, it didn’t actually say that. Everything inside the journal was handwritten in a scrawl worthy of the title Chickenscratch. I’d had the journal for a week now, and I’d finally managed to read all of it.

I’d copied over the spell for summoning a demon so I wouldn’t make any mistakes. I’d also drawn a salt circle on my bedroom floor to keep the demon contained until I could make him my slave. Ha! If only…

I wanted to see what, if anything, would happen. I had no illusions about demons actually being real, but I had a feeling something would happen.

“Alright, then. Let’s do this,” I mumbled to myself, pushing my hair away from my eyes as I pulled the paper closer to me.

The spell was in Latin, and though I’d translated it to English for my convenience, I planned on using the original, Latin version today. Words held power, or so the journal said.

I mumbled the first few words to myself to get into the groove, so to speak. Clearing my throat, I trained my eyes on the original spell, took a deep breath, and began chanting.

I didn’t know what I expected to happen. Probably nothing. Demons didn’t really exist after all. Right?

But the moment I finished the first stanza, the air thickened around me. It warmed and crackled, like a volcano was about to burst out under my feet and it was warning me to get the fuck away.

I took a deep breath and tried to swallow the next stanza, to not utter the words that talked about bringing forth a soul from the hells below. But the words kept coming, as if now that they’d found an outlet, they needed to be spoken.

Fuck. This was bad. Really, really bad.

Sweat beaded on my forehead as the air turned hotter. A drop of moisture trickled down my spine, the only movement other than my lips, which still uttered the hellish words.

Finally, the spell ended and I gasped out a breath, dropping the paper and watching as it fluttered to the floor. 

The floor underneath me shuddered, and steam billowed out as a huge fucking hole appeared in the middle of my bedroom, in the center of the salt circle.

I bet if I peeked into the hole I won’t spot Mrs. Bailey watching TV with her dogs.

I shifted back, my eyes trained on the hole, really wishing it was a different kind of hole that held my attention so completely.

After a wait that seemed to last forever, a figure rose from the fissure. And then he rose some more, and more until he was all the way out. Holy fuck that was a huge guy. 

And he was clearly a guy because a) he was naked. B) His huge ass schlong was right there, dangling in front of me as if he had no shame whatsoever. Eh, he probably didn’t.

“Who dared summon Azazel from his slumber?” He bellowed toward my ceiling, and I realized the top of his head was inches away from it. Fuck, he was enormous.

His skin was dark, and shone like obsidian. Yes, I do mean his skin was literally black in color, like he’d rubbed charcoal over himself before showing up here. (His… erm… privates told me that was actually his skin color and not a scrub gone wrong.) 

When he turned to look at me, I almost swallowed my tongue. His eyes were red, and they glowed. Like he had tiny LED lights behind his retinas. I gave him a finger wave as more sweat slid down my forehead.

His brows furrowed, confusion replacing the fury. “Little mortal. Are you the one who summoned me?”

Little mortal? Little mortal? I was 6’1″ and not small by any means, thank you very much.

I narrowed my eyes at him as I got to my feet. I died a little inside when I realized I didn’t even reach his nipples. Still, I rallied myself and spoke in an even tone. “I’m not little. And yes, I summoned you. From what I understand, you’ll now follow my orders for the next year if you wish to stay. Or you can return now if you’d rather go back to your world of doom and gloom.”

“Doom and gloom? No sire. My world has many pleasures you mortals know nothing about.”

“Do you have arcades?” I demanded, raising a brow. “Video games? Movie theaters? Internet?”

Mr. Demon’s—had he said his name was Azazel?—eyes widened, and he tilted his head curiously. “Don’t think we do. We have torture chambers, whores, mead. Oh, and gambling.”

I wrinkled my nose, shaking my head. “Oh no, that’s awful. You need to see what real fun is. Be my slave, and I’ll show you everything.”

What the fuck am I doing? This was crazy. I was talking to a literal demon. Why was I trying to convince him to stay?

He eyed the journal at my feet and pointed at it. “Is that where you found the spell to summon me?”

I nodded, and how the fuck could someone with red eyes give you puppy dog eyes? Because this guy managed to just fine.

“May I see it, please?” He asked, extending a hand.

A demon being polite? I was immediately on guard.

“What, so you can figure out how to escape this circle I created? Yeah, I might be new to this, but I’m not a fool.”

The puppy dog eyes disappeared, and he raised a brow at me, a slight smirk gracing his surprisingly pink lips. 

He leaned closer to me, his eyes holding on to mine and keeping me captive, and then he looked down and… blew out a puff of air. He broke the salt circle like it was child’s play, and met my eyes again, a feral grin spreading across his lips.

Well, fuck.

I leaped for the can of salt I’d placed on my desk, and Azazel gave a low chuckle.

“Chill, Monsieur. That ain’t gonna work.”

I cringed at the convoluted sentence as I looked back at him, only to freeze when I realized he wasn’t in the circle anymore.

Instead, he’d taken a seat on my bed, his legs crossed at the ankles, his bits as visible as ever. His naked ass is on my bed sheet, I realized with growing horror, but I didn’t know what to do. I was just glad my bed hadn’t cracked under the guy’s enormous weight.

Okay Google, how do you get a demon to remove his posterior from your bed without angering him?

“I will be your servant, little mortal. For one year, no more. It’s been a long time since I came to the mortal realm, and this should be entertaining. I’ve been feeling a mite bored recently.”

Oh, do I feel you on that one buddy.

“Happy to hear that’s not just a human trait. Feeling bored, I mean. Okay, then, we have a deal. One year of servitude, and I’ll do my best to introduce you to the pleasures of the mortal realm during that time.”

As I spoke, the fissure slowly disappeared, and I realized the sulfuric smell I’d credited to the hole was in fact emanating from my new servant.

“Okay, Azazel. My first order is: Go get a shower. You stink.”

Azazel tilted his head again, giving me that same curious look, and asked, “What’s a shower?”

Holy fucking jeebus.


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