Behind the Veil (Anthology)

Summoning a Demon (PG)

This Story Contains :: Some adult content, but just mentioned in passing. 

Author's Note :: This is from one of the first stories I ever wrote, and was kind of a weird Christian post apocalyptic novel. I was very young when I came up with the idea and heavily influenced by my Southern Baptist up bringing and my grandmother's Catholic beliefs, but the idea was too complex for me at the time. It wound up a complete mess and I stuck it in a box to never be looked at again. 

Jump to 10 years later, with the religious influences gone, and a need to spruce one of the more salvageable scenes up. I rewrote this scene in particular before again just setting it on a shelf and forgetting about it. Give it another 7 years, to earlier this week, and I found the file again, and edited it one more time for you to enjoy.

It's kind of turned into an "improvement meme" for me, but without the fun year to year side by side. 

Also, and this has nothing to do with anything other than me just wanting to let you know, Mortiki is basically Idris Elba. Okay. We can move on now. Have fun with this little one off that's been with me since I was 14.

The abandoned hotel sat apart from the rest of the town, slouching in the shadows as if any minute it'd topple over. Buildings like this one didn't turn into dead, hollow holes bored into the world overnight. It was filled with old evils slowly, with time, and decayed from the inside out. It was a place the rest of humanity eventually forgot about, but that remember everything that happened inside its walls. Couples moaning on sweaty sheets, pills taken by the handful to kill pain, bullets and knives slicing into skin; the hotel remembered it all. 

Mortiki glared at the building, his stomach tight like he could feel the evil that lurked behind the building's window-pane-eyes. He hated it for the way it watched him, like it had any right to judge him for what he had to do inside those walls. Mortiki clenched his stubbled jaw, smoke curling from a cigarette he had lit and forgotten about as he stared at the old building. 

Better get to it, he encouraged himself, dropping the cigarette and crunching it under the black heel of his shoe. 

Mortiki  didn't waste any time trying to see what sat in the shadows of the entryway. He pushed himself in, found a moldy room and set his bag down on the filth covered floors without ceremony. The beds and chairs had been stolen long ago, replaced with mats by someone who risked staying the night and never bothered to clean up after themselves. The carpets were stained and covered with trash, but it would serve his purpose well enough.

Working fast, he lit his candles and took out jars of thick black liquid. Dipping his hands in the congealed blood, he carved marks into the carpet, ignoring the smells that emanated from beneath his hands. The stage took time to set, but it was worth it. By the time he was done, the candle wax had already started to melt into the carpet and moonlight pooled in from a broken window, casting his shadow into the devil's trap made of blood.

It was time.

Mortiki had summoned this demon many times before in his old life, and each time got harder and harder. It wasn't a long process, just your traditional chanting and blood letting, but it took a lot out of them. Then there was the demon itself. They hadn't parted on the best terms, and now he was coming to it again to ask for a favor.

The price he had to pay was going to be steep. 

He mumbled under his breath, focusing his energy on raising the demon, the room smelling more of rot and sulfur, making him choke on his own words. Moritiki forced himself to stay standing, the pressure on his soul making him shake as his shadow began to grow. It ate its way across every mark he'd carve, no longer on the floor, but seeming to hover in the air, groaning and shifting. It stood before him as he tried to catch his breath, it's smoky body holding a darkened form and a featureless face, blackened wings stretching from its human type body. 

The two stood in silence for a moment, Mortiki struggling to keep his knees locked so he wouldn't fall. He couldn't let him see how old he had gotten, how the years of hunting had taken its toll on him. He hoped his spell would hold; God only knows what would happen if he got out and got a hold of him.

"You look tired," the creature's voice came hissing out of the mouth-less, shadowed body, picking up on his fears instantly, "old friend." It's eyes opened, narrowed slits that glowed icy blue, "Do the gods no longer favor you?"

"Belial." Mortiki nodded his head, his voice tight, and his blood covered hands firmly clasped behind his back. "You're doing well."

The eyes smiled, the shadow creature's massive shoulders rising and falling in a sort of shrug, "Immortality suites me. You should think about joining me."

He gave the demon a hard look, "Where is she?"

Belial tilted his head back, laughing. "And why should I tell you?" The demon hissed, pressing against the edge of his devil-trap-cage, "I seem to recall getting banished back to Hell because of you. That doesn't exactly mean I owe you any favors."

Mortiki rose his eye brow, watching the candles flicker as the demon inched closer. He took a step back, leaning against the windowsill. No sense in taking chances now. He couldn't fight him off like he could have when he was younger, and they both knew that. "Water under the bridge." The demon let out a scoffing noise, his wings flaring a little as Mortiki continued, "I can give you five months on this Earth. Think of it as time off for good behavior."

The demon's eyes smiled again. "This bitch must mean a lot to you for something like this. Bet she gave you a good fucking and then ran. Was that it? Was she your best lay ever? Someone to replace your dead wife?"

He wasn't going to explain what he was doing to this creature. Mortiki didn't owe him anything, and the beast's words were only to taunt him. "Are you going to help me or not?" He managed to growl. "I can give you a body-"

"A dead body!" Belial snapped at him, "It'll rot by the time I really get started having a good time." His see-through skin smoked as he hit the air between them, testing Mortiki's hold on him, "NO! I want something better."

Mortiki narrowed his eyes, not looking bothered by the pressure being put on him, but inside, he was shaken. "That's my offer. Take it or leave it."

The creature hissed, his wings opening against the edges of his holding cell, "If you want to find your little bitch, you're going to have to give me more."

"Like what?"

"You."

"Body or soul?"

The demon's eyes smiled. "Both."

Mortiki sat in silence, his jaw tightly clenched. His body and soul for the girl. He was sworn to protect her, but he had to find her first, and in order to find her, he had to sign himself to the demon that tormented him for years.

"What do you say, Mortiki?" The blue eyes smiled, knowing what his answer would be, "All of you to help find her?"

What other choice did he have? 

It would be a small sacrifice.