A story I wrote for my creative writing class. Hope y’all enjoy :3
“Jesus.” I swore, which, considering the circumstances, probably wasn’t a winning strategy. I tossed down my bag of paraphernalia, took a deep breath, and turned to my… colleague. “Your only job was to draw the sigil in the dirt. How did you possibly mess that up?”
The client sighed. “Calm down. It’ll work.”
“You planning on summoning a watcher, or do you want someone who’ll deal?”
“Will the watcher demand my soul?”
“Doubtful, but if you want your money, you need him.” I brushed past him and erased the crude imitation of the summoning rune he insisted on drawing himself. I grabbed a stick and redrew it. Satisfied, I turned back to the client scanning through the brown leather tome. “Put that down and bring me the candles.”
He did as I asked. I showed him where they were supposed to go, and had him start setting them up. I threw my hair into a messy ponytail and pulled the ceremonial dagger from my bag. The rubies inlaid in the hilt shone scarlet in the moonlight. I pricked my index finger and drew a protection sigil on my forehead. I used my phone’s camera to make sure it was right.
My reflection stared back at me. It looked… well, like me, but there was something off. My eyes looked… manic. I bit my lip. Can I really do this? I asked myself. I’d had doubts for a while now. Sure, I needed the money, but the boy… ten years of bliss and then damned to Hell.
“You Snapchatting this? Seriously?” He asked, appearing at my side. “#justdemonthings.” I glared at him and glanced back to see the candles nowhere near where I told him to put them. I pursed my lips. “Did I do something wrong?”
I pressed the hilt into his hand. “While I fix your… ahem... mistake, I need you to cut your hand and sprinkle some blood over the sigil” He raised his hand. “What?”
“Can I take a leak real quick?”
“Go. We’re on a deadline.”
He headed off into the underbrush. I glanced up. The moon was nearly overhead. I bent down, fixed the candles, and lit them. That catastrophe sorted, I grabbed the tome and flipped to the incantation. I scanned through the yellow tinted page, mentally pronouncing each word.
A few minutes later, I heard rustling in the bushes where the guy had gone, and… Thud. I closed my eyes and muttered a silent prayer that he hadn’t fallen on the knife, and then another that he had. 100k, girl. Think of what that’ll buy you. No student loans. You can get away from your family. It’s worth it. Isn’t it? The guy burst into the clearing, scratches up and down his arms. I suppressed a smile.
He sliced his palm and let his blood drip onto the sigil. I glanced back up at the moon. It’s time. I stood up and motioned him closer.
“Let me do it.” He insisted.
“No. Reading Latin ain’t easy.” I said. “Now, when he appears, just tell him what you want. Don’t get cute.”
“Cool, but I’m reading it.”
“Boy, stop.” I snapped. “You will mess this up. I promise.”
He snatched the book away from me. I threw up my hands and moved to the edge of the clearing. I leaned against a tree. “Your funeral.”
He started the incantation. His first mistake: reading off the wrong page. Totally not the passage he needed. I winced at every mutilated syllable. When he finished the recitation, he snapped the book shut and stared at the sigil, waiting for Azazel. When the demon didn’t show, he looked up at me. His face red.
“Nothing-” He started. I held up a finger and covered my eyes with my other hand. The sigil had started glowing.
“Three… two… one…” A blinding white light enveloped the clearing. When I could, I looked to see what happened. Where the guy had been standing sat a platypus, staring up at me. So, that’s where they come from. I thought, a smile playing at my lips. The pressure that’d been building in my heart ebbed away. “Well… at least you’re quiet now.”
