The Dark and Evil Guide to ...

Simon finished up the last of the symbols on the floor. He really hoped it would be okay that he switched out the blood indicated in the book for red paint. The mystic forces would hardly noticed such a small detail. The symbols seemed to have all been done correctly, a fact he was proud of. After all, some of them had been mighty tricky to replicate on the carpet in his room. Not to mention they all had to be scaled up.

He picked up the open book from his desk. The book itself was not what he would have expected. Sure, the red cover was faded, and the pages ever so slightly yellowed. But somehow Simon would have expected it to look, well, more ancient, instead of just mildly used. Okay, so it had been bought in an ordinary used bookstore, but still …

At least the text was appropriately mystical. It even used thee and thou and all that stuff. It also contained whole passages on the alignment of the moon, the stars, and the proper way to use entrails to predict the future. Frankly, Simon did think that part a little incredulous. Obviously the future was highly variable, and thus unpredictable, but the book was old. Some allowances had to be made.

Simon wasn't at all sure either, whether this spell would work. But it had looked promising. Figuring out all the planetary alignment stuff had been a pain, but he thought he got it right.

Damn. Simon jumped back when he discovered the brush he was holding leaked paint down on his socks. He quickly put the brush back in the bucket still swimming with red. Then he proceeded to read the instructions on what to do next. First he went over everything he’d done so far.

Planetary alignments: Check

Ritual sacrifice: Check. (He hoped cockroaches counted)

Chanting before painting the symbols to prepare the ground, or in this case floor: Check. (His throat still hurt. That was a lot of chanting)

Painted circle, and symbols inside and outside of it: Check.

So … all that was left was speaking the brief summoning words themselves. As Simon regarded the circle and the symbols, next to his oak desk, he suddenly got a chill. What if it actually worked? What if he really summoned a demon? He pushed those thoughts away with, well, that was the idea, wasn't it?

He breathed deeply in and out in preparation, then held the book carefully, stood in front of the circle, and began to read. “I summon you to my circle. I summon you to my plane.” His voice got steadily louder, and he thanked god – a bit ironic, he was aware – that his parents weren't home. “I summon you! I summon YOU! I SUMMON YOU …” Simon paused for a moment.

Then he went over to his desk and calmly checked a piece of handwritten paper. Afterwards he took up the same position as before, cleared his throat, and continued, “… KRIOEMEKEG!” Not exactly one of the more famous demons, but Simon thought this task didn't require a lot of power anyway.

Immediately lightning began to flash over the circle. One bolt hit the light bulb in the ceiling, making it explode in a shower of sparks and glass. Darkness hit the room, and Simon found himself getting scared. The kind of scared that would have made him run out of the room, screaming like a little girl, if he could have moved in inch.

Quietly, in the way that a hurricane is quiet in the middle, Simon became aware of a breathing sound not his own. It originated somewhere from the middle of the circle. Simon’s eyes widened even though there was nothing to look at. Then a light turned on. It was a flame, carried in a black leathery hand. The flame was brought up to a face. A wrinkled leathery face with large red eyes. The mouth widened in a toothy smile.

Simon found his voice. “AAAAAAAAAaaaaa!!!! ” He ran to the door to his room, fumbled a bit for the doorknob, frantically turned it, opened the door, went outside and closed it. All in the span of about three to four seconds. Once he was outside, he leaned against the door, breathing hard.

It's all just a dream, it's all just a dream, he repeated in his mind over and over with closed eyes. He opened his eyes, pinched himself, and winced. His eyes widened, and he clammed them shut once again. It was all just a trick of the light, it was all just a trick of the light. I didn't see that. That didn't just happen. I did not just summon a demon. I did not just …

“Uhm … excuse me?” Simon’s eyes flashed open. The muffled and quite human sounding voice had come from beyond the closed door to his room. He turned around, keeping an eye on the door, and meanwhile slowly backing away from it. “I'm terribly sorry about what just happened … but you know, we have a reputation to keep up and all. If you could just open the door again, I promise I'll be less scary.”

“You – you're a demon. A promise from you isn't worth much.” Simon heard his voice but could hardly believe he had said them. Nonetheless he had stopped backing up. Mostly because if he backed up any further he’d fall down a flight of stairs, but a close second was a growing curiosity.

“True. But in this case I am telling the truth, just open the door and see.”

A forgotten morsel of advice boiled to the surface of Simon’s mind. It had been a pretty longwinded speech his father gave him when bullies had picked on him in high school, but the gist of it was: “Face your fears.” Simon never had learned to take that particular advice, but figured now was as good a place to start as any. It didn't stop his heart from beating like a jackhammer, as his hand closed around the doorknob in the gloomy corridor.

He turned the knob slowly, and gave the door just the slightest bit of push. Light poured in from his room. Which was already weird considering he was pretty sure he saw the light bulb blow out. This gave headway to the growing theory in his mind that he was experiencing auditory and visual hallucination.

The theory was further reinforced when he saw a very small version of the demon he had laid eyes on before. It was the same in every detail except size. Leathery skin, dark grey rather than black, he noticed now that the light was better. Wings coming out of his back, not appearing very functional because of their small size. Horns came out of his forehead, something he hadn't seen before.

But the size was a very crucial detail. Before, he had been twice as tall as Simon. Now he just about reached up to his knees. Simon suddenly got the insane urge to laugh. He put his hand over his mouth in an effort to resist. The laughter spilled out anyway.

The demon looked up at him. “I can be big again if I want, you know.”

Simon stopped laughing. “I'm sorry … I just … I can't believe it worked. I summoned a demon.” No longer feeling threatened, he stepped into the room. Now that he thought about it, hallucinations at the exact moment he did the spell … it seemed rather unlikely. Still possible, but maybe … just maybe, he had actually done it.

“Well, here I am.” He made a theatrical gesture with both his tiny arms. “Ta-da. And to answer you next questions, no, you aren't dreaming or hallucinating. And yes, that's exactly what a dream me or hallucination me would say. And no, I can't prove it either way. Now that that's out of the way, can we get down to business? You probably know the deal, right? Pretty standard stuff, one request for one soul … yadda yadda yadda.” It paused for a moment to look expectantly at Simon. “What's your request?”

Suddenly, Simon felt too embarrassed to voice it. What if the demon thought it too small a task? And all that stuff about his soul … well, he had calculated that since he didn't actually believe in souls, he wasn't losing anything, but it still didn't sit quite right with him. “Uhm …”

“Uhm?” The demon sighed. “You want the sales pitch? Okay then, I suppose, since I'm here, leaving empty handed would be silly.” He cleared his throat dramatically, and suddenly his entire demeanor changed. Bored became vibrant. Eyes, that had previously been lazily taking in the room, centered on Simon. “Anything, anything in the entire world can be yours. You want to be rich? I will shower you in gold and diamonds. You want power? I will grant you presidency over the universe. You want girls? Food? Supernatural abilities? All of that is within your grasp and more. All for a small, small price. Just imagine … just imagine everything you could have, and choose. For it can all be yours.”

After the speech was over, Simon and the demon looked at each other for a moment. Simon scratched his chin. “Really? You can do all that?”

“Well … maybe not all of it. I'm not, perhaps, one of the big guys. But if you want something I can't give, I'll run it up the command chain. The price might increase, but that's just, you know, business.”

“Increase? What, so I’d have to give you more souls or something?”

“Yeah. Souls, evil bargains. Tell you what, you give me your request, and I'll tell you if it's extra expensive. That sound fair?”

Simon thought for a moment, then he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay. So … there's this girl. She works at the counter in a supermarket close by. And,” he breathed deeply in, savoring the memory of her, “She's so pretty. And I don't mean just superficial beauty, I mean inside and out.”

“Of course,” the demon quickly said.

“This one time, she did a mistake, and she let me keep maybe one-fourth of what I bought. For free. That's how nice she is.”

The demon nodded sagely. “That is nice.” He snapped his fingers. “Okay. Well, I can give you something that's almost true love. She'll be completely besotted with you for the rest of her life, and the price is just the standard soul. What do you say? We have a deal?”

“No … That's not exactly what I wanted.” Simon hesitated for a moment. “You see, I've read some of those stories about demons granting wishes.” He shook his head. “It never really ends well. So I've decided, I want your help, but there’ll be no magic allowed on your behalf.”

The demon stared at him, his mouth opening and closing. “What … what do you mean, no magic? Isn't that the whole point of summoning a demon? Magic?”

“No … no … I don't want you to sell yourself, or your kind, short.” Simon smiled encouragingly. “I think you have so much more to offer than just powers and magic. Wisdom, for example. And knowledge. You could give me fashion tips, for example. I mean, look at me.”

The demon looked at his baggy trousers, and the plaid shirt, and finally at the acne-scarred face and the round glasses. “I guess you do have a small point.”

Emboldened, Simon continued, “Yeah! And then you could help me with the best way to ask her out.” He left out, “again”. “I have talked to her, that should help. I've said … hey, and she's said hey back. And there's been some discussion about the weather. I mean, I figured a demon would be an expert at dating.”

“Hmm …” The demon rubbed his chin. “In the right form, I've been known to be quite a devil with the ladies – no pun intended. And …” He shook his head. “Wait a moment, no. Just no. I'm not going to be your demonic date side-kick. It's ridiculous. Demon's do have their pride, you know.”

Simon was taken aback. “But … but …” He hastily flipped pages in his book, stopping at the right place. “It says so right here you have to obey me! It's in the rules!”

“Normally … yes. But I mean come on.” The demon bent down and dipped a finger in the still wet paint of a symbol near him. He showed the finger to Simon. “Red paint? Really? You couldn't at least shell out for sheep blood? By the way,” he pointed to a rune, “that's upside down. And even if it was the right side up, that,” he indicated the book in Simon’s hands, “wouldn’t even help you with levitating a pencil. Which you couldn't do anyway, because you have all the magic power of a dried mushroom.”

Simon’s mouth was in the perfect shape of an O. “But … but … you're here. I summoned you.”

“I was bored, okay? You can only listen to tortured screams while playing demonic scrabble for so long. But now, I think it's preferable to idiot adolescent wannabe magicians. By the way, the form I showed you first … that's the kiddie version of me.”

Simon stared at the demon. In an effort to calm himself down, he took off his glasses, breathed on them, and started cleaning them. By the time he put them on again he realized it hadn't helped a bit. “But surely you can help me just a little bit. Point me in the right direction … maybe teach me how to do real magic … clothing tips… anything.”

The demon snorted. “Not even Dumbledore could turn you into a wizard. But … there just might be something.”

“Please … anything. Except making her love me by magic, of course.”

“This falls under your condition. But the price is half a soul. Non-negotiable.”

Mulling that over only took one second. “Give it to me.”

“You asked for it, kid.” The demon materialized a contract, and gave it to Simon, along with an ornate black pen. Simon took the contract, and put it on his desk. He scanned the first lines, but the tiny text and legal jargon quickly hurt his eyes, so he just took the pen and started to sign his name. The red ink made him stop for a moment, and glanced at the demon, who said, “It's just red paint. I thought it fitting.” Simon continued and soon his signature read, Simon Ergatore Conway. He gave the contract back to the demon, who looked at it for a moment, then nodded.

“Okay.” The contract disappeared, and in it's place was a book. “This is what you get.” The demon handed Simon the book. “Thank you, and have a good day.” The demon disappeared in a cloud of smoke that made Simon cough a few times. He was almost certain that hadn't been required.

Oh well. He looked at the cover of the book. Now this looked ancient. Simon wiped the dust off the cover with his hand. The title got clearer. It said, “The Dark and Evil guide to …” and the subtitle was, “… Picking up Girls.” Simon shrugged. He had bought things with worse titles. Plus the price tag had been half-a nothing, and it came straight from hell. It had to be worth it.

He started flipping the pages, and thought about the counter girl. This time … this time, when he asked her out … surely this time she wouldn’t laugh. Quite so much.