neil is just your friendly neighbourhood demon. andrew is just a curious witch. shenanigans ensues.
*
“Look,” Kevin said, waving his hands in front of Andrew’s face. “I get it. You want to know what’s after death, we all do. You want to bring Aaron back - we all wish we could bring our loved ones back. But this is going too far, Andrew.”
Kevin really was an idiot sometimes. Aaron had died a long time ago: Andrew had long since healed, and wasn’t stupid enough to go disturbing the create-destroy balance. Also, Andrew couldn’t give less of a shit about what happened after death.
The only reason Kevin was here was to make sure Andrew didn’t hallucinate whatever results he was about to happen across. Kevin didn’t actually know what Andrew was planning. He’d been working on this a good year, deciphering the code and glyphs within the Wesninski journal, which was a spellbook all about demons and their alternate realms. Andrew was sure he had it right this time: if he kept the circle intact, there would be nothing dangerous about this at all.
Unless he fucked it up. But he wouldn’t. He’d never fucked up a ritual before, and he wasn’t about to start.
That is, if Kevin stopped blabbering.
“Kevin,” Andrew managed. “Will you shut the fuck up?”
The man glared, fiddling anxiously with the small raven brooch that his brother had gifted to him years ago. Andrew turned away now that Kevin was somewhat quiet, ignoring the “Wymack’s going to kill us.” whispered under Kevin’s breath.
Andrew poked his palm with the tip of his knife and watched the droplet of blood slide from his hand, dropping into the centre of the circle. It sizzled, like Andrew was doing this ritual on an enormous hotplate, and dissolved into the pile of pure salt crystals beneath it. The glyphs all glowed a vibrant blue as the ground shook. Andrew could feel the energy being drawn from the clearing, summoned to the ritual circle. He shielded his eyes as the light grew too bright to look at and took a step back.
There was a strange and obscenely loud noise that tore through the silence, almost like someone was shredding a piece of paper into a microphone. The air shook around Andrew, quivering anxiously, and all Andrew could think was:
Fuck.
He needn’t have worried. Within a few moments, the noise, the vibrations, the light - it all vanished. He slowly opened his eyes and glanced to Kevin, who was curled into a tiny ball on the ground.
“Oh, Hell.” Came an unfamiliar voice, very out of breath and very relieved. “You saved my life.”
Andrew slowly looked to the ritual circle: Within it was the figure of a young man, barely taller than Andrew was. He looked normal for the most part, dressed in a billowing white blouse and trousers, except for the scars across his skin and his eyes. The cuts and burns seemed to be laced shut with golden thread, glittering in the moonlight, whilst his eyes were the most piercing shade of blue Andrew had ever seen. They glowed, really glowed, like those glyphs had during the ritual. The strangest part were his pupils, like two little voids but shaped into inverted pentagrams. Combined with fire-licks of gorgeous red hair and the curvature of his cheekbones, Andrew seemed to have summoned the most attractive monster possible.
A monster of whom looked extremely exhausted, bewildered, and injured.
“What?” Andrew remarked, clutching the book to his chest.
“You saved my life by summoning me.” He stepped closer to the edge of the circle. “You pulled me out of my father’s realm and into this one. Speaking of which,” He looked around. “Where in Lucifer’s name am I? And how did you manage to get ahold of that?” He pointed to the Wesninski journal in Andrew’s grasp.
“Found it.” He said.
“Of course.” The demon threw his hands up into the air. “She said she’d hidden it, but I knew she’d lost it. ‘It’s safe with your uncle, Nathaniel. I never lose anything, Nathaniel. Don’t accuse me of causing us such a terrible fate, Nathaniel.’ If you’re listening, Mary, just know I know you were full of shit!”
“You are the demon Nathaniel?” Andrew tried not to act shocked. He’d hoped that the ritual would pull a demon. He didn’t expect to pull the demon. Or, more accurately, the Wesninski demon’s son.
“You had to have known who you were summoning when you perfected the ritual,” Nathaniel frowned. “Didn’t you?”
“I wasn’t 100% sure on the translations.” Andrew admitted. “Kinda went on a whim.”
“Well,” The demon remarked. “Congratulations. You’ve snagged yourself a demon.”
“Now what?” Andrew demanded. “It didn’t exactly tell me what to do once I’d brought you here.”
“No wishes?” Nathaniel hedged. “No insatiable desires? No memories you wish to have removed or altered? No enemies you want smited down? I owe you big time, little witch. I’d have a knife in my throat if it weren’t for you.”
“It’s Andrew, not little witch. Also, that’s rich, coming from you.”
“I’m aware.” The demon said breezily. “But for what I lack in height I make up in attitude. It’s what my father was trying to knife me down for: Being such a nuisance. I think your friend has gone into shock, by the way. He can’t seem to stop looking at me like a concussed goldfish.”
Andrew had completely forgotten about Kevin in the midst of his success and looked to where the man was curled into a ball on the floor, jaw hanging and eyes peeled wide open. He kicked Kevin’s leg. “The ritual worked.”
“No shit!” Kevin snapped, scrambling to his feet. “Are you insane? Summoning demons? Everything has its cost, you know!”
“He’s not wrong.” Nathaniel offered. “What you get is what you give.”
“I saved your life.” Andrew pointed out.
“That was fate. You didn’t do it on purpose.” Nathaniel reprimanded.
“Well?” Andrew spread his hands wide. “What do you want?”
The demon frowned. “Aren’t I meant to ask you that?”
“Because I totally care about semantics. What do you want, demon?”
Nathaniel narrowed his gaze at the journal in Andrew’s hands. “I need that book back.”
Andrew rolled his eyes. “I asked you what you want, not what you need.”
He looked to his feet, lacing his fingers behind his back as he chewed on his bottom lip. All his teeth were just slightly pointed. “Well - I suppose I would...no. That’s ludicrous.”
“Spit it out.” Andrew crossed his arms. Kevin made a weak noise of distress behind him.
The demon looked up from under his lashes. “I’d do anything for my freedom.”
“Anything?” Andrew prompted.
“Anything.” Nathaniel confirmed.
“Alright.” He walked over to the circle of glyphs that kept Nathaniel ensnared. Just as Kevin cried out “Andrew, no!” his shoe scuffed the engravings in the dirt, and whatever invisible leash that bound Nathaniel to the centre of the circle snapped: Andrew could hear it.
The demon looked at Andrew like he’d lost his damned mind.
“You’ll still have to uphold your end of the agreement.” Andrew reminded him.
“Right.” Nathaniel said. “Right. Okay. Are you crazy? You just unleashed a demon into your home realm.”
“Yes, he is!” Kevin cried out, holding up his hands as Nathaniel stepped outside of the ritual circle. “Oh, fate, don’t hurt me.”
“Not insane.” Andrew said, cocking his head. “Just intrigued.”
“Well.” Nathaniel said, appraisingly. “I’m sure we’ll cross paths again soon, Andrew Minyard.” With that, he tapped two fingers to his forehead in a mocking salute before promptly vanishing into thin air. He left behind a distinct smell of smoldering ash and ocean spray.
Kevin covered his face with his hands and moaned “We’re all going to die!”
Andrew ignored him. He still had the book in his possession and Nathaniel owed him. It was an asset that no other witch would’ve had before, and that made Andrew very powerful.
Andrew found that he didn’t mind the idea of having a demon in his pocket. No, Andrew didn’t mind at all.
You ever get something stuck in your head and you’re just like ‘WRITE NOW’?
Well, instead of finishing RP10, I did a thing.
Uhm, black magic, revenge, bad things happening to OCs (not graphic) and past bad things happening to other characters, but again, nothing graphic.
I call this ‘a boy and his demon meet cute’
*******
“-pass it around, Scott, don’t hog it!”
“I’m not! I barely got any off of it that time, you asshole! Stop complaining.”
“Both of you shut up before someone hears us.”
“Gawd, you’re such an old man, Ren. Live a little for once!”
“Yeah, come on, help me with this! It’ll be fun!”
Andrew had another swig of the cheap bourbon that Emilio had managed to get his hands on while the rest of the morons fussed over the book Gaby had brought along, even holding up their lighters to help illuminate the dark overhang on the roof of the hellhole currently serving as their home – McDougal Rehabilitation Center (or McD’s, as even the staff called it). A ‘lovely’ place with shitty plumbing and a/c and worse heating, but oh what a bonus that its make-shift security system always went on the fritz after a thunderstorm. Of course that didn’t do its poor wayward inhabitants much good when there was still the nasty outer parameter (Andrew suspected someone of having trust issues, imagine that), but on stormy nights when Jones was running their ward, the lazy bastard didn’t give much of a shit what they did as long as they were back in their beds by morning without any noticeable body harm or destruction of property.
So up to the roof they went, a chance to breathe some fresh (humid as fuck) air, to smoke and drink. Andrew wasn’t very sociable (at all), but he knew how to bypass the lock on the door and that way he got to keep an eye on the worst of the troublemakers (keep them in front of him, he told himself) while gaining access to said smoke and drink.
Though sometimes he wondered if it was worth it, having to listen to such inanity while he kept ‘watch’, supposedly for any staff showing up, as far as his fellow inmates were concerned.
“No, no, it’s supposed to work!” Gaby insisted, her voice the squeaky half-laugh which indicated she’d had a little too much of Tim’s pot. “I mixed a few things together, stuff I’ve seen and-“
“You’re just gonna make it rain again or something,” Cyn teased. “Or turn Ren into a frog!”
“It’ll be an improvement,” Emilio muttered, only to giggle (Gaby wasn’t the only one affected by the pot) when Ren shoved him a good foot over.
“Lemme concentrate,” Gaby complained as she sprinkled something on the roof (it looked as if she’d grabbed a couple of bottles of glitter from the art room), her brow furrowed and bleached blonde hair twisted into a bun to keep it falling onto the rough surface of the roof. “Uhm, we need some blood. Anyone have a – well, something sharp?”
McD didn’t allow them any weapons (no fun, this place), but they all learned to improvise. Bottle of bourbon held in his hand, Andrew pushed away from the wall near the door to watch Cyn hand Gaby what looked to be a piece of glass wrapped on one end so it could be held, which Gaby used to cut the tip of her left index finger – cut a little too deep, from the way she started swearing.
Meanwhile, Tim, always an asshole, took to laughing as he waved his hand around the glittery symbols. “Oooh, bowels of hell, hear our pleas and send us a servant to do our bidding!” He laughed some more, that time Emilio and Ren joining in as well.
“Not funny,” Cyn told them while Gaby complained about them ruining her spell.
“I don’t know, it worked a little.”
Andrew spun around to face the far end of the roof, where the strange voice had come from – sardonic and without a noticeable accent. There was something dark within the shadows, a human-like shape and two brilliant blue spheres that might be eyes around the same height as Andrew’s, perhaps a little higher. “But it’s not for rain and it’s definitely not for good luck.”
As the stranger spoke, Scott and Tim went charging toward him (it sounded like a ‘him’, like someone around their own age, though Andrew hadn’t heard that voice before), only to disappear into the shadows. There was the sound of something tearing followed by screams, screams which steadily became fainter and then there was the terrible noise of something meaty impacting the ground below.
Andrew threw the bottle off to the side as a distraction, but he only made two steps before there were more screams behind him; he turned to see that the glittery circle had become brilliant, multicolored flames and everyone around it – Gaby, Cyn, Ren and Emilio – were quickly consumed by it. Torn between shock and rage, he turned back to the shadow figure to find it standing in front of him, and gasped despite himself.
The figure was about his height but thinner, slighter, and was covered with scarred, burnt flesh, with remnants of charred clothes and singed dark hair. Between him being able to walk around in such a condition and those eyes, those balefire blue eyes, Andrew realized that it wasn’t human, wasn’t mortal. Yet he still struggled to get free, to lash out, to refuse to go down quietly, which only prompted an amused chuckle as he was grasped by the neck by a too-hot hand and lifted up into the air.
Long, narrow fingers choked off his air as the creature grinned, ruined lips pulling back to reveal sharp white teeth. “I know you. Oh yes I do, I know you. You were there that night, you sold us out.”
What was it talking about?
“I am going to enjoy this,” the creature continued as its fingers dug further into Andrew’s throat. “I am-“ It paused for a moment. “Huh.”
“Nah… nah….” Andrew choked out as he clawed at the arm holding him up, as he tried to kick at the body in front of him – seventeen years of twisted bastards and Drake and everything, only to go out like this? Not happening.
The creature let him go as if repulsed by him, yet didn’t back away. “’Nah’ what?” it asked in a curious tone, its head cocked to the side in an awful parody of a living person.
Coughing for about a minute while he looked around for a weapon (he just had to throw the bottle so far away, didn’t he?), Andrew shook his head. “Not… not him, whoever. Go the fuck away, freak.”
That prompted a laugh from the creature which sent a chill down Andrew’s back reminiscent of trickles of icy water. “You’re actually speaking the truth, aren’t you?” It leaned down, and gone were the thick lumpy scars from the burns, replaced by smooth skin tanned from sun exposure and dusted by freckles, the hair regrown and bright red. The creature was now a kid a little younger than Andrew with sharp, too attractive features and a wicked scythe of a smile and still those balefire eyes. “Nothing?”
“Only a desire to kill you,” Andrew confessed.
That smile grew even sharper. “Much too late, my snarly doppelganger. Let me tell you a little story – oh, we’ll skip along a good bit, no point in boring you, but the heart of it was that me and my mother were trying to avoid some very, very bad people.” The creature’s eyes flared even brighter for a moment and there was a crack of lightning in the sky as if for dramatic effect. “We met with a contact to get papers we needed to keep running, but apparently, he had a side business going on selling drugs and one of his regulars caught sight of us. A regular who had a son. A son who looks just like you.”
Andrew stared at the creature as those words sunk in, as he attempted to make sense of them. “This is all an insane delusion, something was in the alcohol.”
“Oh no, you’re not that lucky,” the creature told him. “Your little friend dotted a line she should have zagged and zigged a symbol she should have dotted, and she had some nice rich blood there, yes? Add on to it some idiot making an offer he shouldn’t, and here I am. I had wondered what allowed me to slip free, but now I know.” As it talked, Andrew heard voices down below, voices raised first in anger and then in alarm.
It reached out to flick him on the forehead to regain his attention, and for some reason, he couldn’t move to punch it. “Blood of my traitor, how nice. It looks like I finally get revenge.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Andrew gritted out as he fought to move, angered by the injustice of it all even though he should be used to Fate fucking him over by then.
“You’re the exact same blood as the son of the woman who sold out my mother, who led to me being condemned to hell,” the creature told him, eyes flaring so bright that Andrew had to close his eyes. “Their guilt is your guilt.”
Despite himself, a weak chuckle escaped Andrew; didn’t it figure that he found out that he had a brother (a twin, possibly, from what the damn creature insinuated), found out something about his mother, and it was when some fucking demon from hell arrived to kill him? “Just get it over with, you bastard.”
“I will.” The creature was quiet for a second, and then Andrew felt something slam into his chest, felt a sharp pain and then the world spun around him and-
He opened his eyes to find them standing in a park somewhere. He glanced around at the empty swing sets and then the creature standing next to him, now dressed in baggy jeans and an overlarge plain light blue sweatshirt. “This is hell?”
The creature snorted as he began to walk away, and for some damn reason Andrew was compelled to follow, to not let him get too far away. “You have very low standards.”
That wasn’t cryptic, was it? Andrew waited until they reached the street before speaking again, which annoyed the hell (irony much) out of him. “I’m alive?”
“So it seems?” The creature stopped to look at him. “Complaints? Not that I normally give a damn about requests, but I can always make an exception for you,” he said with a feral grin as he held up a suddenly clawed right hand.
Andrew gave him the finger in return. “Why?”
“Ah, a question that makes sense.” The creature nodded in what seemed to be approval. “Because it appears that you’re my anchor here now that I’m free, and I’ve many things to do - people to kill, a criminal empire or two to tear down.” It flapped its right hand about in the air a couple of times. “The usual.” It cocked its head to the side as it stared at Andrew. “Did you want to stay back there?”
Andrew considered all of that. “Not particularly. Are my mother and brother part of those ‘people to kill’?”
The creature’s smile didn’t waver. “Your mother, yes. That’s non-negotiable.”
That was taken into consideration with the knowledge that she’d betrayed whatever the creature had been before along with gave up Andrew and dragged his brother into a situation like the creature had described. “Because she betrayed you.”
The smile slipped away to be replaced by something utterly inhuman despite the fact that the creature still wore its ‘pretty’ face. “Because she betrayed my mother and me. She also cost Theo his life, all for a damn fix.”
All right. “What do I call you?” Somehow, Andrew didn’t think ‘creature’ would go down well with other people.
He felt some sort of satisfaction upon seeing the confusion and uncertainty at the question. “Uhm… Neil,” the demon (was it?) told him. “And you? Other than Minyard?”
Andrew nodded once as he tried not to be affected upon hearing what he assumed was his ‘real’ last name. “Andrew.” Oh yes, he was looking forward to finding the woman who’d given birth to him, too.
‘Neil’ nodded in return. “Okay, so if you’re not going to freak out on me,” he waited for Andrew’s response and smiled, the expression almost genuine at Andrew’s narrowed look, “then let’s get started.”
*******
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.... *whimpers*
Here’s my AFTG Fall Exchange gift for @andreilinlove
The prompts were “Winter // Haunted // Roommates” so I started drawing ghost Neil annoying Andrew and it inevitably turned into demon Neil cus I just can’t help myself.
I really tried my best to give Neil a shirt but it just wasn’t meant to be 😔 @aftgexchange
