If Henry could have read Damien’s mind, the incomprehensible monster would have winced. Unfortunately, Henry had no such power. There were limits, even to his strength.

Damien scanned through the paper one more time. Then he nodded and picked up a piece of chalk with a blood stained hand. He started to draw, moving as confidently and quickly as he dared without sacrificing accuracy.

“You missed a line,” Henry said, taking over Damien’s hand to draw a small tip on one of the runes.

The boy glanced at the page – Henry was right. Damien grunted and continued to draw. Between the two of them, they finished the rune circle within just a few minutes. It was simple enough, which was concerning.

“There aren’t many runes,” Damien said, trying not to concentrate on the pain radiating out from his nose. “That means this spell is strong. The less runes it uses, the less energy is wasted controlling the effect.”

“Cute,” Henry said.

“I learned it in my homework a few days ago,” Damien replied, scanning the circle one more time before stepping inside it. “You should be glad I did. It’s the only reason I trust this to work.”

“Whatever lets you sleep at night,” Henry said. “Let’s just do the contract.”

“Not yet. We aren’t just going to do the normal contract,” Damien said, putting his finger on the page under a small block of text. “It says over here that we can set custom terms, and that’s what we’re going to do. And if you refuse, well, I hope you enjoy the void.”

“You’ve gotten awful cocky,” Henry said with Damien’s voice. “Don’t forget who you’re dealing with, boy.”

“I’m doing this exactly because I know what I’m dealing with,” Damien said. “And no matter how much I want to live, I think you want to get out of the void more. You’re welcome to kill me if I’m wrong, though.”

A low growl escaped Damien’s throat. It was distinctively not human.

“What are your terms, mortal?”

“You will not harm any humans, intentionally or not, unless I say you can. By harm, I mean a mortal’s definition, not yours. You will also do your best to be a good companion for me, and I will do my best to meet any of your requests that I believe are reasonable. I also have the right to end this contract.”

“That’s hardly a fair contract,” Henry scoffed. “More like slavery. You can just end the contract the moment you step outside. Then I get nothing.”

“Fine. We have to agree to end the contract. Everything else is the same,” Damien said. He cocked his head slightly. “I think I hear my mom coming.”

“Damn you,” Henry snarled. Damien’s body convulsed. He felt like he was splitting in half. For a moment, the boy thought Henry had gone through with his threat to kill him.

Then a shadowy figure ripped itself free of him. It was vaguely humanoid, but all the features were wrong. Dozens of eyes watched him from all over the figure’s body. They faded in and out, appearing in different locations faster than Damien could track them.

Teeth and gaping maws gnashed and growled, dripping purple saliva that sizzled against the ground.

“Very well, mortal,” Henry spat. His voice had returned to cacophony of gibberish that he’d first spoken in. “Start the spell. I will do my half.”

Damien swallowed, but his throat was still completely dry. He stood as straight as he could and sent his feeble amount of magic into the runes at their feet. A dark tendril emerged from Henry’s side and touched the runes. They flared with a mixture of pulsating white and black light.

“You will not harm any humans, intentionally or not, unless I say you can. By harm, I mean a mortal’s definition, not yours. You will also do your best to be a good companion for me, and I will do my best to meet any of your requests that I believe are reasonable. If either of us want to break the contract, we must both agree to it,” Damien said, his voice trembling with exhaustion.

Dozens of eyes glared at him with every word he spoke. Once he had finished, Henry repeated the words.

A hammer of energy slammed into Damien’s battered head. The runes flared so brightly that the barn lit up like a miniature sun.

For the briefest instant in time, Damien knew Henry. He saw the true nature of the creature he’d entered a contract with. It was utterly alien. He immediately understood that the persona he’d come to know as Henry was nothing more than a front so that Damien could communicate with it. There was no Henry – there was only It who Heralds the end of all Light. There wasn’t a single human thought or emotion to be found within the eldritch creature. Damien saw the inevitable end of the universe, and he knew without a doubt that Henry would be there.

At the same time, It who Heralds the end of all Light knew Damien. For the first time, it truly knew the thoughts of a mortal. Damien’s emotions – his determination and fear, mixed with his longing to live. For the first time in Millenia, the creature saw something it didn’t understand. Between the two, I pitied Henry the most.

As quickly as it had come, the feeling vanished. Damien was struck with the incredible feeling that something was missing. At the same time he felt… different. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he could instinctively tell that something had changed.

Damien’s head felt fuzzy. The pain was still there, but it was muted.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“I’ve acted according to our contract,” Henry said. “If you had truly witnessed my entire form, you would have been torn apart so thoroughly that I could never put you back together. Even so, you had seen too much for your fragile mortal mind. I locked away the exact details of what you saw to preserve your sanity. I have no desire to be tied to a madman.”

Damien searched through his thoughts, but Henry was telling the truth. He remembered dying, but he couldn’t remember what he had seen when the eldritch creature had first been summoned.