Master

Jack held the blade pointed to the ground and stared through the rain. It beaded in his hair, like crystalline little jewels and sparkled under the onslaught of lightening.
         The demon stood a few feet away, his legs spread and his arms hanging loose at his sides. His ebony hair hung in glistening ringlets and his gold eyes blazed in the dark.
         The demon regarded Jack for a moment, then spoke, “No.” He shook his head and tried to back away. Jack watched as the muscles in the demon’s chest and arms twitched and convulsed, like he was fighting something. The demon rocked back against some invisible force and his face was set in a horrid grimace.
         He fell to his knees and black blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth and his pointed teeth were stained red. He coughed and a goblet of red-black blood hit the ground. His whole frame shuddered and a breath rattled in his throat. A rough laugh followed.
         “Well, it seems I have no choice in the matter.”  His voice was still rough, but musical. He slowly climbed to his feet and wiped the blood away.
         Jack shook his head, puzzled. “What are you talking about demon?”
         The demon laughed again. “I don’t know what horrors you did kid, to be cursed with me. But it must have been pretty bad. I’m only called out on special occasions.”
         Jack stiffened. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
         The demon smiled mockingly. “Of course you don’t, you humans and your denial.” He approached Jack slowly, his gaze flickering from Jack’s wary face to the wavering blade. Jack tightened his grip on the knife. The demon knelt in front of him, in the dark, dirty water. He clasped his tanned hands on his lap and grinned wickedly up at Jack.
         “My name is Trace, and I’m under your command. But if you should ever die, I will drag your soul down to Hell.” He batted his eyes at Jack. “Master.”