Tonight was the night. Tonight, Bal would finally leave the fools. He had stayed long enough; longer than he had intended to. It was time to start his reign of terror on the mortal plane.

Bal got up from his (formerly Cas’s) bedroll and started pilfering supplies from the pair’s saddle bags. He stuffed biscuits and a cannister of water into a small knapsack and strolled over to the edge of the camp. Looking back, he saw how truly pathetic this group was. His little summoner was passed out in her bedroll, mumbling about assassins. She was curled around a bottle of whiskey which she had sucked dry over the course of the day.

The large one, Cas, was sitting with his back against a rock just a few paces away from Ell, eyes wide open. Bal grinned at him, but it elicited no response. The freak slept with his eyes open. He cuddled his sheathed sword as tightly as Ell held her bottle.

Odd creatures, these humans were. Odd and pathetic.

Bal scoffed. It was time to get back to the task at hand. He made it about ten steps away from the camp before that repulsive feeling overcame him once more and he stopped in his tracks. It was like a hand had shot out and grabbed his soul, pulling him back to the camp.

Tonight, he would fight past the feeling. Tonight, he would be free. He took another step and the hand clamped down on his soul, squeezing painfully. Bal scraped at his chest in frustration, etching long scratches into his skin. He stifled a howl of pain, biting into his cheek. Bal struggled forward one more step, the hand crushing his very being as he went.

No matter what he did each night, no matter what he tried, he couldn’t get rid of that hand molesting his soul.

This was the contract’s fault, Bal was sure of it. There wasn’t anything else he could think of. A contract could compel a demon to complete their task, but all Ell had said was ‘Help us’. Help wasn’t a task or a mission; it was a vague request which could mean anything. It could even mean slitting their throats in the middle of the night if Bal twisted his perspective on the situation a little. And there lay the problem; his perspective.

Bal groaned and gave into the contract’s compulsion, as he had for the last three nights, and stomped back to the camp. He flopped down onto his bedroll and sighed. This was his chance. The name Bal could go down in demonic legend. ‘Bal the Nun-defiler’, ‘Bal the Sower of Misery, ‘Bal the Orphan ball Super Star’. These humans didn’t need him. He would be helping them by leaving. The small one would drink herself to death soon with or without his presence, and the large one would likely slit his throat on that sword of his if he tried to get any more intimate with it. The swarm of assassins likely hadn’t given up chasing them either. Without him about, they would have one less thing to worry about.

And then there was the matter of the card on his arm. The card that appeared out of nowhere. The card with his face on it. It had to be dangerous, surely. Magical tattoos that looked like you were never perfectly safe. It could cause all sorts of unhelpful trouble for his summoner. He should just leave.

“Blast it all.” Bal groaned into the bedroll.

He had a chance to spread misery and finally earn his horns. No more working in a shitty little tavern filled with no name demons, he could be sitting at a table with the high rollers, making fools of them all. Payback on Azoth would be his. He had his chance, and yet here he was, bound by a fool of summoner and her muscle brained guard because some tiny voice in his head told him to stay. To help them.

Tomorrow night, Bal decided as he drifted off to sleep, tomorrow night would be the night he left these fools behind.

Morning came mercilessly quickly, the sun rising to set the wasteland alight with its glare. Bal pulled his hat down over his eyes, content to laze about for a while longer, but a foot tapped at his ribs persistently.

“Still with us I see, demon. Perhaps one of these nights you would do us all a favour and find a deep hole to spend the rest of your miserable existence in.” said Cas, continuing to jam his foot into Bal’s ribs.

Bal groaned and took off his hat, that damn ball of fire sizzling his eyes.

“Oh, but how could I ever bare to be separated from you, Cas. Heart of my heart, love of my life.”

Cas’s fists clenched, and he took a deep, chest-heaving breath, then eventually letting it go. Far too easily annoyed this one was, now that Bal knew how much he despised demons. The other one in the iconic duo was curled up next to her bed roll, retching and downing the last of their water intermediately. Bal refused to believe that she was ever a princess. Cas was more like a princess than Ell could ever be.

Bal went over to her and shouted in her ear.

“So, Miss, what’s the plan?”

She groaned and rolled over onto her ass to face Bal, face groggy.

“What bloody plan Bal?”

“Well, the plan, Miss.”

She clearly wasn’t going to put up with his shit this morning as she just stared impassively at him.

“I just assumed that there was plan being enacted, Miss. Surely we haven’t been wandering about in the wastes for days without any destination, Miss? That would be quite foolish.”

Bal was sure that was exactly what they had been doing.

“Of course I have a plan! Why should I tell you though, you bastard?!” she wheezed through her sore throat.

“But I’m one of you now, Miss, part of the gang! You, Cas and I, best buddies so we are. We’ve been through so much together! Remember that time you summoned me then I burned down a saloon and murdered all those people. Good times, friend, good times!”

“Ugh, why haven’t you just fucked off already, you two faced piece of shit? I’m not stupid enough to believe my contract is enough to keep you here with us.”

Yes, it would be completely idiotic to believe that a great and cunning demon like himself could be bound by a pathetic contract such as that. Completely improbable. Unrealistic, and yet, here he was.

“Oh, but I just find you so charming and entertaini- I mean, endearing, Miss. You know, I just can’t figure out why all those men would want to kill you! You have so many great qualities. Is that the plan, by the way? To just run away from all the scary men?”

She collected her things and mounted her horse, shooting a stare at Bal that would make any man wither as she passed him. Thankfully, Bal was no man.

“We don’t have much choice.” She croaked.

Ell rode off into the wastes in what Bal was sure was the direction they had come from. Cas followed quickly after her, giving Bal a hate filled glance. That awful feeling grasped at Bal’s soul once more and he mounted his horse to follow them.