《The devil's got my number》Everything is temporary
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I read over the sentence once more, not sure if I was imagining it.
“Should the terms of a longstanding contract be violated by either party, the contract will be voided.”
This was it. My escape. Bless the angel that made Anthony unable to read this book, for he had just saved me. Anthony had told me that he would satisfy all my needs. That was his part. He did not limit this statement, simply assuming it to be a requirement for me to fulfill my side of the pact. But, if I were to make an unreasonable demand, one which he had no chance of completing, then I would be free.
It was tempting to go down to the church right now and free myself, but I restrained myself. If I did, he would just force me into another contract. I needed to play it smart. I needed to be in a position where, if he lost control of me, he has no way of regaining it. But how?
My thoughts were interrupted, as movements from the bed drew my eye. The girl was waking. She awoke exactly how I imagined, stretching her arms above her head while her eyes fluttered. It was very clear to me, that this girl had never suffered anything in her life. It was something about her presence, as if there was no weight on her and she could float away if she wanted to. Why did that annoy me? No matter, I need to convince her not to attack me, when she realizes where she is.
As if on que, her eyes filled with confusion, as she started to scan the room for familiar surroundings, only to find a demon, and a boy with a creepy book in his lap. I gave her an awkward smile, which was apparently all the trigger she needed, the burning sword appearing in her hands once more. I let go of the book immediately, raising my hands above my head. No way someone like her would try to kill someone who was surrendering. Right?
I seemed to have pegged her somewhat correctly, for she did refrain from attacking me. Only, she did so because she was busy attacking #71. I cannot say I disapproved of this course of action.
“Kill him! Kill it with fire!” I shouted after her encouragingly, causing 71 to shoot me a betrayed look. Serves you right, you red skinned pest. Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and 71 turned into mist of his own volition, before fleeing through the window. With her primary target gone, she turned her attention to me.
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“Why did you bring me here!” she shouted at me. I, of course, responded with the universally agreed way of making a woman relax.
“Woah, woah! Calm down.” I may not be very smart. She did not calm down, preferring to hold her blade in my face again. I could feel its heat, making my eyes water.
“Answer me!”
“Well, I figured you would prefer this than being taken by the demons. They aren’t exactly the nicest bunch.”
Her face scrunched in confusion. “You saved me? How?”
In response, I let a bit of magic escape through my hand, causing her to stagger back. Wasn’t she a magic user herself? Why did she look so shocked?
“you are a sorcerer?” She questioned in disbelief. “There are supposed to be none left in Timoria. Did you come from beyond the mountains?”
“Beyond the- do you mean the north? Doesn’t matter, the answer’s no. My parents are both from here, and so were their parents. I’m as Timorian as you can get.”
“Then how can this be?”
“Beats me,” I dismissed. “Think you could stop waving that thing around? This is my room, you know. Speaking off, what is it?”
She looked at her hand where her blade was still alight, she seemed to mull over her options, before extinguishing it.
“It is a blade of Ilos. I was granted it when I joined the church.”
Ilos. I recognized that name from the book. He was a god though, a mere footnote in the tome, its focus on demonology and magic. The only thing it mentioned was that he hated demons, and that he was an “annoying pest” when one tries to create a foothold on earth. She briefly looked at said tome, causing her brow to furrow.
“You consort with demons?” She asked me abruptly, though it was more an accusation.
“Technically yes,” I answered her. “But it’s a very one-sided relationship, and not in my favor.”
“You are bound to one of them?” She asked, her anger turning to pity in a flash. “I am sorry for you. You must have faced unspeakable torture.” I don’t know if being forced to kill a goat counts as torture, but it was certainly unpleasant.
“But if not from you, how did they get here?” She asked me. I thought about it for a moment. I’m sure Anthony had told me.
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“The mayor summoned them.” I finally answered.
She paled at an incredible pace, turning from an animated marble to a deadly ashen in seconds. One could almost hear the sound of glass shattering, as her world seemed to crumble around her.
Wait, wasn’t our mayor a Redford? Does that mean her dad is a sorcerer? That would explain a lot, actually. Like how she can use fire mag- Oh shit, her dad summoned the demons.
Suddenly, color returned to her, as her mark flared slightly. Curious. I still hadn’t quite pulled myself quite together from the realization, and it wasn’t even my dad who was responsible. Is that part of her ability set? If so, I envy her.
We would have discussed it more, but my parents chose this moment to return, my dad apparently having picked my mom up on his way home. I could hear the key turn, before two distinct sets of footsteps entered the house. My mom went straight to the kitchen, always being hungry after work. My dad, however, went for my room. With each step, I resigned myself to my fate. Alia looked blissfully unaware of my sudden bout of depression. If only she knew. The door swung open.
“Hey Jake, guess what I got us…” He grinded to a halt when he saw that I had a guest. He took a moment to process, before giving me his biggest shit-eating grin.
“Using your sick day productively, I see.”
Both my hands met my face, and a groan escaped my lips. Alia seemed to have understood that part, though it didn’t seem to bother her nearly as much as it did me, a pleasant smile being her only response.
“Just wanted to tell you that dinners in an hour. Your friend is more than welcome to join us.”
“I’d be delighted to.” I shot her a death glare, which she deflected masterly, my discomfort transforming her smile into one of joy.
“I’ll leave you two alone.”
If I didn’t know that hell was real, I would probably leap from my window right about now.
“Your dad seems nice,” said Alia, ignorant of the monster she had unleashed.
“He won’t for long.”
***
We spent the remainder of our limited time sharing information. Me, updating her on my precarious situation, and her, telling me of the religious order that she was part of, as well as its purpose.
In essence, ‘the knights of Ilos’ was a national organization, spanning all over the Timorian Empire. They were granted power by their god, Ilos, in exchange for servitude. I noted that it sounded an awful lot like a demonic pact, but chose to hold my tongue.
I, in turn, told her of my binding to Anthony, though I kept both the tome’s author and my possibility of escape a secret. She vowed to help me eradicate the demon “infestation”, and to “free me from my chains of servitude”.
But this time expenditure was soon interrupted, as dinner arrived. I shot her a fearful look, causing her to laugh. She was surprisingly nice, considering her earlier willingness to kill me. Annoying really, it’s hard to hold a grudge against someone like that.
I led us down the stairs, before taking a sharp left turn, leading us down a hallway. There was single door to the left, one that led to the living room, but we passed over it. We continued straight, ending up in the kitchen, where another door on the left side greeted us. We entered it, revealing the dining room.
It was huge room, taking up a fourth of the 1st floor. A great table of dark wood dominated the center of the room. Above it hung a chandelier, a multitude of crystals glinting in the light. I never understood why my dad bothered with it, the numerous candles being both expensive and time consuming. The room was decorated with pictures on every wall, a majority of which were mountains, with a select few being rivers or lakes. My mother gave Alia a huge smile as she entered.
“Come, come dear,” she said, gesturing her closer, while pulling out a chair. “Take a seat.”
Alia did so, the fool. My dad shut the door behind us, though to me it sounded as the clicking of a bear trap. He gave me that very same grin he had sported when he saw Alia the first time, which I’m sure he had kept on the entire time he waited for us to join them.
Thus, it began.
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