You Little...

"... So there we were, Christabel and I, running through a desolate forest. We were so close to her cabin, but something had snatched her ankle, and she had fallen face first onto the pathway. She made a noise, barely a scream - I stood, motionless, and watched. I didn't know what to do.
First, let me tell you how it all started."

"It was hot, I was sweaty, and I wanted to get home..."

His phone rang, and he reached into his pocket with a shaky hand. Who needed him at this hour?
It was barely five minutes past three, but he wasn't in the mood to be interrupted. He just wanted to get home. He looked down onto the dark screen, and squinted past his glasses at the caller ID - it was Christabel. He groaned with a dramatic pause, and swiped across the screen.
"Chris - is this important?"
"Well, fuck you too, asshole. Hi. I needed some help, and I didn't know who else to call. You up for some..." She made a whoosing sound to emphasize the situation. "Witchy shit?"
He grumbled into the phone, and mentally checked his agenda.
"Yeah, sure. You at your place?"
She hummed in acknowledgement.
"Cool, ok. I'm on my way. Don't wait up for me, sweetheart."
He sent her a kiss through the phone, and heard her cringe. "Hurry up, you whore."
She hung up on him and he blew out a long breath of exhaustion.
Well...
This is going to be a nice day.

It took a while to get to the forest.
His calves were burning, and he started to pant after every step.
"Typical fucking witch." He huffed, resting against a tree. The bark was prickly against his back, and he squeaked when a little spider crawled over his forearm.
"Fucking... Spiders."
The cabin was just up ahead, and he rejoiced internally.

The porch of the cabin was littered with little candles, mostly on a small, wooden table. A packet of cigarettes lay discarded on the table, along with a small lighter. He picked it up and he could feel the sockets of his eyes straining from how far his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The lighter had cornflowers decorating it.
"Nerd." He chuckled, and knocked on the door. It creaked with how hard he knocked. It was pretty flimsy, and he was a big guy, he could have knocked it over if he wanted to.
Footsteps padded through the cabin, and he saw an Iron Maiden shirt through a crack in the door, before he saw her.
The door opened, and she flashed him a smile. "Hey, jerk." He smiled back.
"Hey. Can I come in?"
She cackled at his formality, and stepped aside.

The cabin looked small from the outside.
As he walked into the living room, he sees that Chris had already arranged her spell on the carpet.
She had pushed aside the couch, and drew, what it seemed like to Ethan, an... Upside down triangle, with a circle in the middle.
"I thought..." Ethan started, and laughed at his choice of words. "I thought you guys were supposed to draw pentagrams and whatever."
Chris scoffed, "Do you think witchcraft is all cheesy like in the movies?"
Ethan made a noise of interest, before stepping around the triangle.
"Hey," Chris started. "Do you mind grabbing those candles from the couch?"
Ethan stumbled towards the couch, grabbing - "Six of those bitches, please" - the pitch black candles from the soft and worn out cushions.
"M'lady."
He curtsied, and she grabbed the candles from his hands.
"Thanks."
"Who are we summoning?" He chuckled, obviously thinking that this one hell of a joke.
"Andras."
"Huh?"
"Andras. He's a demon. He kinda looks like an angel, but he has an owl's head, and he rides this badass wolf. I'm not sure what he does, but he just... He's just pretty badass, okay?"
Ethan frowned, and inhaled sharply.
"You're seriously summoning a... Fucking demon?"
"Yeah, basically."
She arranged the candles around the triangle and lit them up afterwards. The flames were dancing for a few moments before they stilled, and Chris clapped her hands together in excitement.
"You scared?"
She moaned like a ghost, waving her hands around. Ethan could barely see, but he knew she was teasing him.
"Fuck off before I shit on your carpet. Let's get this over with already."
Ethan saw Chris roll her eyes before she grabbed the lonely paper on the couch.
"Ok, pussy. Let's do it."
She dramatically cleared her throat, and sucked in a deep breath, before continuing.
"Audi vocem meam, et intende voci deprecationis meae. Pedicabo mihi Pater, ut sedeant mecum lupo. Tardius occidere me: Décii imperatóris, quia non diu. Egredere. Veni!"
There was a long whoosh of the wind outside, and then everything went quiet.
"Uhm... Did it work?" Ethan asked, looking around to find that nothing was out of place.
Chris grunted, "Motherfucker," and threw the paper down.
It slid from her hands and onto the ground, and a gust of wind blew it into one of the flames burning from the candle.
The room shook, and so did Ethan.
"Chris... What the fuck is that?"
Chris' eyes went wide and she stumbled backwards.
"We fucking summoned Andras, dude."