Closer… closer… ardent acolyte for now is the beginning of the end of our time together. Ere the morning comes ushering with it the piercing rays of dawn I shall go, banished back to the black pit whence I came. But before I depart, I shall impart to you the final piece of our story.

The devil and the girl stared one another down. Safe inside her protective wards and writs scarred into the ground of the church the girl matched eyes fearlessly with the great devil, his horned and horrid visage now fully twisted with the full brunt of his rage. Great slavering jaws snapped at the edges of her circle as Belphegor’s massive claws tested the integrity of the enchantment. Finding them inviolate, his mouth twisted into the form of a sneer.

“It is of no moment, girl,” he spat. “Our agreement will be null soon. Then it will be the pyre for you.”

Closing her eyes and centering herself in the circle, Eldritch replied, “Drag me to Hell, huh? I think I’ll pass.”

Cunning replaced Belphegor’s rage, ardent acolyte, as he continued to survey the situation. He knew that he could not harm the witch, nor do anything to prompt her to break the covenant signed earlier that evening. But Belphegor also knew that he could simply allow her to break the agreement herself, thereby allowing him to strike at his enemy directly.

Time, however, was fleeting for the devil. He could not simply wait for the girl to break from the circle, the coming dawn would signal the reaffirmation of the firmament and his return to the black abyss for another year. While he could return anon, he understood such a course of action was flawed. Although he originally planned such a deceitful maneuver, Belphegor now knew that giving this particular enemy a year to prepare might spell his doom, after all without any forewarning she was the source of his augury that one of the congress of devils would not return to Hell. No, Belphegor knew that if he wished to strike at his enemy he must do so swiftly and without hesitation.

So it was that he drew himself upright and bellowed, “If you will not leave then I will simply need to provide a compelling reason to draw you out! I will return anon with your lawyer in tow, foolish girl.”

Alarmed, Eldritch’s eyes snapped open. “This is between you and I, devil! Do not bring her into this!”

Her voice fell upon the empty air of the church, however, for the devil had already went down to Georgia. If Belphegor had stayed, he might have noted the mysterious smile Eldritch now sported. Instead, Belphegor found himself standing outside a bar with a bouncer admonishing a pair of girls.

“Look Georgia,” the bouncer in his Beacon costume said, “your friend is a drunken mess. Take her home, get her in a cab, or leave her in an alley, I don’t really care. But you aren’t going back into the bar until she’s taken care of.”

Protesting, Georgia replied, “But I just met her tonight! We’re like best friends though.” Leaning in towards the bouncer she said, “Hey! Guess what I’m dressed as?”

Sighing, the bouncer said, “I don’t know, a freaking orange?”

Slapping him on the chest, she answered in a loud voice, “A Georgia Peach! Seeeeee?”

With that, the girl turned and gestured to her posterior, emphasizing the orange colored spanks she wore. Then she stumbled, unbalanced by her friend standing upright. Her friend sported a familiar pair of cat ears atop her head and immediately recognized the large form of Belphegor, evidenced by her screaming out in a shrill voice, “Belphy!!!!! We meet again!”

Slightly disgusted by the overly large costume and hunched appearance of the mighty devil, Georgia said, “You know this guy?”

Animated, Erika hoped over to Belphegor and put her arm, or rather tried to put her arm, around his shoulders before saying, “Yeah, ole Belphy and I are lawyer pals.”

“A lawyer dressed up as a foul creature from the abyss?” Georgia said. “How appropriate!”

Before Belphegor had the chance to disabuse the two mortals of the ridiculous notion, the bartender spoke up, “Sure, whatever, she’s your problem then,” he said. Then he turned and walked back into the bar, slamming the door behind him.

Put out, Georgia raced after him saying, “Nooooo, please rescue me Beacon!”

Finding himself alone with the object of his effort, Belphegor growled before grabbing Erika around the waist. Then he said some ancient words in Latin and vanishing from the street. With a flash, the pair appeared in the church. Setting down his prize, Belphegor crowed, “Now, Eldritch Maiden, come out and face me!”

Undaunted, Eldritch threw his words in his teeth, proclaiming, “No, I-”

Before she had the chance to finish, Erika stumbled out of Belphegor’s grasp and said in a queasy tone, “Ohhhh, warn a girl before we teleport.”

Stumbling into the old confessional, she cast open the door and threw her head into the booth. Both devil and heroine gazed on in amazement as she forcefully and repeatedly emptied her guts into the sacred space. Standing upright, she stumbled back towards the pews, finding herself a convenient perch to curl up and calm her stomach.

Perturbed, Eldritch said to Belphegor, “Well?”

“Well what?”

“At least give her a glass of water,” admonished Eldritch.

Grudgingly, Belphegor complied. With a measure of disgust, he threw a water bottle back to Erika. Then he turned back to Eldritch and said, “Now, on to the matter of our contract. You know that I cannot commit any act that will knowingly compel you to break the agreement. However, I can do anything I want so long as I do not know beforehand that it will compel you to break our contract.”

Nodding along, Eldritch said, “Yes, which is why you can’t hurt Erika. That would be an act solely to compel me to step out of the circle and save her, which is a no-go.”

Belphegor did not rise to his position at the left hand of Satan purely for his skill with the nigromantic arts, however. His cunning was not unmatched among the numberless horde of devils at the disposal of the king of demons, but he was respectably devious. So it was that Belphegor devised a wicked plan. After all, for one blessed with such foul cunning as he, the devil’s bargain he signed with Eldritch held several loopholes, not the least of which was the clause they spoke of now.

In a voice more honeyed than sweet taste of manna from on high, Belphegor said, “For all your treachery, have I not dealt honestly? For all that you intend to destroy me, have I not offered you a fair bargain? And even now, as we stand poised to fight as enemies I offer water to your companion.”

In the circle, Eldritch remained seated. Her face stayed stoic, as though she did not hear a word of the devil.

Wounded, the head of hebetude continued, “Even now, you misconstrue my efforts. I brought your lawyer here to renegotiate our deal, to offer up terms that can protect the both of us from further conflict.”

Cocking her head to the side, Eldritch replied, “You ever hear the expression, ‘a deal with the devil?’ because it seems fairly apt at the moment.”

“You already made one,” Belphegor reminded her.

Eldritch nodded. “True,” she answered, “but then this one seems to be working out rather tenuously. So I really don’t think I ought to make another one.”

Abandoning this gambit, Belphegor threw back his head and laughed, letting his booming voice echo in the broken stones of the bell tower high above. Then he brought his head back down to face the girl and said, “Well it was worth a try. But then,” he gestured to Erika, “did you really think I bore this mortal girl here just for something so simple?”

“Not really.”

“Our contract only stipulates that acts I commit deliberately aimed at coercing you into breaking the contract are prohibited.”

“We’ve been over this,” said Eldritch in a bored voice.

“Then it will come as no shock that I can do whatever I like, so long as I do not know, with certainty, that it will cause you to break the contract,” said Belphegor with a cruel smile.

Not giving Eldritch an opportunity to reply, he began to cast a spell. Speaking in ornate Latin, he began to chant in a deliberate fashion. His voice tumbled throughout the church like a dark sermon, swelling and sinking into the stones themselves.

Piping up, Erika took her feet in an unsteady fashion and said, “Hey! I know some of that! Casus fortuitius… vis major…” Her face screwed up in concentration for a few seconds before a look of dawning comprehension broke across her features and she said, “Oh damn.”

Turning to Eldritch, she clarified, “vis major, an act of God. He’s invoking something unpredictable. I bet he has no idea what’s coming.”

Grimly, Eldritch said, “But I bet it’ll be enough to level this entire church and I bet he’s betting the same thing.”

Belphegor, confident in the power he wielded, said to Eldritch, “If you wish to stop me, simply step out of the circle and face me!”

Crossing her arms, Eldritch answered his challenge with one of her own. “It’s an act of God, devil. Do you really think this will work out in your favor?”

Flush with the energy filling the room, Belphegor shouted, “I am prepared to find out, are you?”

Without hesitation, Eldritch answered full of confidence, “Yes.”

Belphegor recoiled in surprise. Her pronouncement caught him off guard, for he hardly expected such calm acceptance from a mere mortal. Still, his hands never stopped shaping the wild magic. Staring down at her, Belphegor drew himself upwards, emphasizing the height difference between his monstrous form and the small girl sitting across from him. Eyes locked, the two played a silent game of chicken as the power continued to build inside the abandoned church.

From afar, it looked as though a pillar of black smoke rose from the belfry. Interspersed within the bilious cloud were strange sparks that shimmered with unnatural colors. The force and weight of the smoke pushed the bell back and forth, causing it to ring and ring as though summoning a horde of watching spirits to attend to the sight playing out within. The sound occasionally gave way as the whipping curl and snap of the rope holding the bell cracked through the night like the slash of a whip.

Unwavering, unflinching, and unmoving the pair fought a mental battle with terrible consequences on the line. In a voice more moving than that of the Archangel Michael when he compelled Joan of Arc to rise against the English Belphegor entreated Eldritch to leave the circle. In whispers more alluring than Salome when she danced the dance of seven veils for Herod Belphegor sweetly whispered for Eldritch to leave the circle. In tones more pure than the chorus of cherubim announcing the birth of Christ to the shepherds Belphegor sang for Eldritch to leave the circle. He threatened, he cajoled, he begged, he promised, he raged, he motioned, and yet still Eldritch did not move.

Time continued to march forward, however, and the spell’s force continued to mount. With a pillar of golden light, it grew, matching the frenzied intensity of the ringing bell. Up, up to the heavens it surged and flashed, glowing in the night like a beacon of the divine. With a sudden flood of glowing intensity so fierce that it temporarily blinded all three inhabitants of the church the pillar descended down in a crackle and a moment later receded.

Pulling himself from the ground first was Belphegor, and with a mighty growl he said, “What… what trickery is this?”

Pulling herself up from the edges of the altar, Eldritch too cast her gaze about the church. Slowly, she said, “An act of God…”

Then, with a great deal of mirth, she threw back her head and started to giggle. Gasping out between laughs, she said, “We should have guessed! Of course this would happen. It’s an act of God!”

Erika, hoisting herself on one of the pews grabbed at her new costume and asked, “Why am I sober? And why am I dressed as an angel?” In horror, she reached above her head and grabbed the tinsel halo she now sported. Then she glanced down and shrieked, “I’m not even a sexy angel! I look like a freaking loser!”

Indeed, ardent acolyte, her costume had changed into that of a flowing, and quite modest, white robe complete with fake wings, a harp, and wire halo. But the changes were not restricted to just her appearance. As the three inspected the changes to the church they noticed immediately the freshly hewn pews, filigree altar, and restored frescoes in the windows. Gone were the rot, decay, and neglect. In its place was a pristine church, made whole again by the auspices of Belphegor’s incantation. Above them, the bell rang out with a joyous sound, summoning the faithful near and far to the restored church.

But it all meant nothing to the Demon of Sloth. Belphegor grinned a cruel grin and said, “The church is restored aye, and with it went all traces of the ritual.” Looking down at the conspicuously absent protective pentagram he added, “All traces.”

Eldritch panicked, for she knew that Belphegor spoke the truth. Frantically, she reached for her dagger in a vain attempt to ward off the devil. Before she could, he moved and grabbed her hand, holding her in place. Then, his fetid breath stinking, he smiled in anticipation. As Belphegor raised a mighty paw to strike down Eldritch, a voice rang out from the other side of the room.

“Not so fast!” exclaimed Erika, “I’m sober now, which means I actually remember the details of the contract.”

“Thank God,” murmured Eldritch.

Shooting her a dirty look, Erika continued, “Anyways. As I recall, demon, you can’t use magic in front of anyone but Eldritch, per the terms of the agreement.”

Belphegor shrugged and said, “I plan on rending her limb from limb. Do not worry mortal, you will not see me use magic.”

“Too late for that,” said Erika, “or did you forget about the spell you just cast?” Not giving Belphegor time to reply, she pointed her finger at the devil and shouted, “Belphegor, I find you in breach of contract per chapter nineteen, subheading eight point four, lines six through seventeen! You just got lawyered bit-”

With a great clap, the church bell rang out so loud that it obscured what Erika said. Then a set of luminous bonds affixed themselves to Belphegor’s form, constricting and tightening upon him until he began to shrink. Slowly he began to transform as his figure lifted up and flew towards the altar and its depictions of scenes from the bible. With a great clap, Belphegor sunk into one of the scenes, taking on the form of a particularly lifelike demon railing against Jesus.

And so, ardent acolyte, the prophecy came true! For indeed, one of the congress of devils did not reappear in Hell that night, trapped as he was in the unassuming church. But as we practitioners of the black sorcery know, what is trapped does not always remain so. Aye, ardent acolyte, this tale is not yet over. After all, who can say what riches, what secret spells, or what necromantic mysteries that a grateful Belphegor might grant the one who frees him from his eternal prison? If one of you proves so bold, so fortuitous, or so lucky then perhaps it will be your story I tell next Halloween!

But for now, the witching hour passes and the dawning light comes to banish me away. For the moment, I am gone back to the fiery planes whence I came. Forget me not, ardent acolyte, for when the stars align once more and the time of spooky frights returns so too shall I!