《The devil's got my number》...And the devil’s got my size
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There are so many. They jump from person to person, whispering in their ears of terrible deeds they should commit. They don’t exactly seem to be physical beings, but rather something akin to spirits. I have seen them walk through people plenty of times, their stubby forms seeming to be made of mist rather than flesh, their bodies merely contained in devilish shapes until they make contact with something. Once they do, they spread out into a small cloud, only to gather once more, seemingly unharmed. Their skin is a smattering of dark colors, but most are crimson with two black horns. Their hands and feet have only three units with claws, and on their backs rest two furred wings in the shape of those of a bat. I have taken to calling these creatures Imps.
There are others as well, but these are not immaterial like the imps. They impersonate people, walking among my classmates as if they were one of us. Their heights differ wildly, just as humans do, but that is where the similarities end. Their skin is a dark magenta, easily visible on their hairless bodies. Their eyes are yellow with three black dots floating around independently of each other, allowing them to focus on multiple things. Their body types are all the same, thin and skinny, so the only way to differentiate between them is a mark that is seared into their foreheads. It is usually a single letter followed by two numbers. These ones I call demons.
The demons seem to each be in charge of their own little collection of imps, around 5 or 6 per demon. There are usually three demons in each class, meaning there is plenty of imps to build everyone’s dark thoughts to the point where they act on them. I had always wondered why bullying and violence was so widely accepted at this school. Guess I have my answer now.
I’ve been able to see these creatures for two weeks now. Something to note is that they know very well that I can see them, but they don’t seem to care much, the only result being that the imps avoid me, since I just dissipate them if they get too close. My friends think it’s weird how I seem to randomly kick at the air, but don’t really care much beyond that.
Today, however, something seems to have changed. As I was walking to school this morning, I was surrounded by a collection of all the demons from both my class and the neighboring ones.
“Come with us,” one of them said. His brand was ‘B-07’, and the others looked as if they deferred to him. When I looked around at the remaining demons, I saw that they were all branded ‘B’, but each had a higher number than the one who spoke.
“I’d rather not,” I responded, causing the lead demon to frown.
“come with us,” it tried again, but this time its yellow eyes glowed for a moment. Its voice was all of a sudden incredibly alluring, making me honestly consider going with it, despite the idiocy of doing so. My fist flew into the lead demons face. I forgot to mention that part. These guys can control your mind if you’re not careful, though they stopped trying after I left one who tried a pile of broken bones. I wonder what changed? The magenta infernal stumbled back, its nose broken. The others narrowed their eyes and started circling me.
“Come with us,” they started chanting, their shimmering eyes quickly becoming the center of my world. Why would I ever disagree? They seem like nice people. They probably just want to give me a gift. I start walking behind the lead demon, the others flanking me on all sides. They guide me away from school, towards what seems to be a run-down church. Outside hung an assortment of election posters, for our current Mayor. “Redford, a man of the future,” they said. Weird. I’ve never seen that place before. Did they build it? How nice that they are helping out the community like that.
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We walk into the church, where I meet a new kind of demon. He is far larger than the others, the ones at average height barely reaching his torso. His skin is not magenta, but a sickly green, and his head is unbranded. Surrounding his head are horns, small ones compared to him, but each one the size of a kitchen knife. There are eight of them, creating a sort of unholy crown. He is standing behind a podium, and when I look around, I see demons of all letters milling around the place, dozens at least.
“Ah!” He says in a cheery tone. “Our guest of honor. B-07, if you would be so kind as to release him?”
He did so, and his compatriots were quick to follow. I looked around me with new eyes, not those of a slave. Anger and fear rose up in me as I thought of their seizing of my mind, but I pushed it down in favor of focusing on my situation.
“Why am I here,” I demanded, which caused the green beast to smile. His teeth were sharp and short, and there were multiple rows of them. Like a shark.
“Well, you see,” he said as he placed one hand on the podium, lifting something off it. A book. “I am in need of your expertise, little practitioner.”
He handed me the book, which had seemed normally sized in his hand, but was actually gigantic. I needed both arms to hold it up, making the green demon frown. His eyes glowed for a second, and one of the demons went down on all four and crawled before me. Convenient. I placed the tome on his back, inspecting it further. There was no visible text on the outside, simply a black cover. When I opened it up, the title was revealed on the inside of the cover.
‘The makings of a warlock: a complete guide - By Lucifer, king of pride.’
I read through the glossary for a bit, looking at the different titles, before speaking once more.
“imps,” hey, I guessed right! “sjaelbinderer,” whatever that is.” Begaerene. These all seem like demonic beings, why do you need me?” Thank god I had taken classes in Proellian, so my pronunciation didn’t tip him off.
“Ah, well you see little sorcerer,” I really need to find out why he’s calling me that. Is it because I can see him? “Our lord Lucifer, in his infinite wisdom, created this book a few centuries ago. It was meant to help out the beings of hell, but it was cursed by an angel,” he spat the word out as if just saying it might make him ill. “To be unreadable to the residents of hell. So, we need a magical practitioner to perform the spells, since we are unable to do so ourselves.”
“But why me?” I asked trepidatiously. What manner of unspeakable plans was going through the mind of that creature at this very moment?
“You’re the closest.” God dammit. “you’ll, of course, be taken care of by us. Anything you need will be provided by us. To start with, we’re going to need you to perform a demon summoning.”
I quickly looked through the glossary, before turning to the appropriate chapter. Demon summonings were seemingly one of the easier spells, a simple quid-pro-quo of souls. A certain amount of human sacrifices or magical energy; relative to what you are summoning, some chanting, and voila. First class express from hell to earth. No way I was going to help them sacrifice humans, though.
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“I’m going to need time to study this book,” I attempted to buy time.
“And you shall have it.” That was easy. “I’m in no rush, after all. My friends and I basically have this entire town locked down. Wasn’t very hard, a quaint little place like ‘Dalton’ isn’t exactly the leader in piety. It was actually the mayor who summoned me, if you can believe that. Part of why I’ve chosen the décor you saw outside. Got to support the home team, right?” Well, there goes going to the authorities. Guess I’m on my own.
“Imp #71 and #72 will keep your company, in case you need to contact me.” Or to let you know if I try to escape. Yeah, I’m pretty fucked, aren’t I? He gave me a smile, letting me know that I definitely was.
“See you at school tomorrow, Jacob.” Oh, he knows my name too. That’s just great. But why is he going to my school?
“Oh, I didn’t tell you.” His smile turned predatory. “I’m your principal. Anthony Goodman, nice to meet you.” He reached out his hand, which I first planned to ignore in favor of legging it, but the B’s blocked my exit. So, I fearfully shook his hand. His eyes flashed yellow for a second and his smile seemed to somehow widen. The B gang moved to the side, and I ran as fast as I could, all the while trying to keep my mind as blank as possible. No one made a move to stop me, but #71 and #72 were right on my heels, the book carried between them. Each flap of their wings let me know that there was nowhere to run.
***
“Chapter 4: Personal magic”
I was sitting in my room, cross-legged on my bed. In front of me rested the tome. As soon as I realized that there was no escaping, I decided that I needed to dig into this book if I wanted to live. That was when I reread the title, and thanked Lucifer, the greatest being known to man. A complete guide it said, and it held true.
“Protective magic. The very essence of being a warlock is based on your interaction with infernals, but if you are not shielded, most will simply take what you offer by force. Luckily for you, protective magic is notoriously easy. Let us begin.
The first step to protecting yourself is to protect your mind. All infernals you will encounter have some way of influencing your mind, though it gets more subtle the more powerful the infernal is. To combat this, you will need to perform a ritual. Exciting right? Your very first spell! All you need is a live kid. That is a young goat, not a human child. Below you will find the spell pattern. Draw a circle in the ground, preferably in dirt, then paint the pattern shown underneath with the kid’s blood. As long as the blood is still warm, it should work. All you need to do from there is to pour magical power into the pattern and say the words: ‘Sinnd Skjylda.’ The spell creates a mental shield, connected directly to your magical source. This makes your mind impenetrable, as long as you have power in you.”
“I don’t think Anthony will like that,” said #71. His voice was gravelly and deep, which contrasted cowardly nature.
“Who cares what he thinks!” yelled #72 in response. Her voice was much lighter, though it was far from pleasant. She seemed an awful lot more aggressive than #71, especially towards her peer.
“I used to be an empress before all this. An empress! Now I’m stuck with you on fucking guard duty! I should be the one who is being guarded!”
God, I can’t wait till I can bind imps.
“What did you just say!” shouted #72 into my face. Oh right, still haven’t protected my mind.
“You entitled piece of shit! I can’t wait till Anthony lets me kill you!”
He won’t. That handshake of his bound me to his will. I can’t disobey him, which means he now has a sorcerer at his beg and call. You and I are in the same boat, except he only has one of me, otherwise he would probably have given the book to someone more experienced.
“Hah! Serves you right!”
I ignored the annoying imp in favor of reading onwards.
“The second step is a familiar. Now that your mind is protected, you can go about getting one. Simply choose a demon tiered appropriately to your magical power and summon it. Don’t forget your salt circle to keep the demon locked away! You don’t want to be responsible for a wild demon, trust me. Once you have the demon’s ear, you offer it a simple exchange contract. Power for power. Enough power for it to take form in this world, as well as half of your future power, in exchange for permanent subservience and being able to draw on its reserves. If you didn’t overestimate your magical capacity, the deal will work every time.”
“He definitely won’t like that.” Came #71’s baritone voice once more. “That’ll change your soul structure, breaking you out of his control.”
For a moment silence reigned the room, as #71 realized what he had done. He tried to fly for the window, only to be shot down to the ground as #72 tackled him.
“Oh no you don’t! If he frees himself, he’s taking us with him, and I’m not about to go back to that asshole!”
I am? Oh right, Anthony ordered them to accompany me, until further notice. If they’re smart about it, they’ll never have to return.
I ran out of my room, down towards the kitchen. My dad was sitting by the kitchen table, reading a newspaper, his white t-shirt barely containing his muscled form. His hair was jet-black, unlike my golden blonde, with graying temples. His eyes, however, were a deep green, just like mine.
“Whoa there!” he said, surprised by my sudden bout of speed. “Slow down there, champ. What’s going on?”
“Explain later!” I shouted as I sped past him, straight for the kitchen cupboards. I flung open the one that contained spices and salt, before running back to my room. #72 was still holding down #71, though he was struggling with everything he had. I flung the lid of the salt grinder, before pouring it out as quickly as I could, three fourths of a circle quickly taking form around them. I kicked #72, dissipating her, before finishing the circle. She gathered herself moments later outside the circle.
“Genius thinking kid!” She told me, before going down to #71. “How are you in there, fuckwit? Comfy?”
“Let me out of here!” He shouted at her. “Anthony will have both your heads for this!”
“Only if he finds out.” I told him, his mindreading now disabled by the salt circle. I took my key and left the room, locking the door behind me. #72 appeared next to me, having phased through the door in her mist form. I went down into the kitchen once more, my dad looking at me weirdly. I went straight past him, placing the empty salt container back int cupboard.
“Well?” He asked me impatiently.
“well what?”
“You know what.”
I considered what to say for a moment, before shrugging my shoulders, deciding I might as well tell the truth.
“There was a demon in my room.”
He stared at me for a bit, clearly wondering where he went wrong as a parent.
“you’re grounded.”
“Fair enough.”
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