The Summoner

Oh, this is just fantastic. The kitchen is a gigantic mess. Worst of all, there’s a freaking demon standing in the kitchen screaming at me in a strange language. I’m standing by the sink flipping through the ‘spellbook’ that I found in my aunt’s pantry.

How did I end up in this situation you may ask? Well I had only met my mom’s sister, Astrid, once when I was eight or nine. My grandmother had died, and mom didn’t go to the funeral. Astrid came over and mom sent me to my room. They were screaming at each other, but I couldn’t make out the words, so I snuck downstairs to listen in. They were fighting about me and grandma. Astrid saw me peeking around the corner, but didn’t tell mom, who was facing away from me. “They’re going to come out whether you want them to or not, Imogen,” Astrid said, before turning on her heel and strutting out the door. The door slammed itself behind her, and I didn’t see her again until the night my parents died.

That night she arrived before the cops did. She knocked three times on the door with a grave look on her face. I recognized her right away, even though I’d only seen her once and we definitely didn’t have pictures of her in the house. I let her in and offered her tea. That’s when the cops showed up. They told me that my parents had died in a crash and that I needed to come identify the bodies. Astrid took over while I broke down. She handled everything from the identification to the funeral arrangements to packing up the house. Since I’m technically an adult I could have lived in my parents house alone, but it hurt too much. So Astrid offered for me to come live with her in the old victorian that’s been passed down in our family for generations.

My parents were normal people, and were very against the idea of magic. So much so they wouldn’t even allow me to read fictional books about it. So when, after a few weeks of living with Astrid, she sat me down and explained that her family, my mom’s family, my family, comes from a long line of witches I thought it was a joke. So far she’s acted like she really believes it, but it’s only been a few days, she’ll crack.

Today Astrid gets up and declares she needs some potions ingredients, and asks if I want to go with her. I declined, wanting the house to myself for a bit. Around lunch time I decided to make something to eat and went downstairs to rummage through the pantry. I noticed a book on the top shelf, that I thought was a cookbook, I mean why else would it be in the pantry? I should have left it alone, but I didn’t. I grabbed a chair from the kitchen table and grabbed the book off of the shelf. I laughed out loud, jeez Astrid’s really committed to this joke. It’s a leather bound ‘spell book’ that kind of looks like the one from that weird dream I’ve been having since I moved in with Astrid. It’s the same color, density, and has the same weird symbols on it. Naturally, I opened the book to a random page, deciding to perform a ‘spell’. Unfortunately, I opened up to a demon summoning spell. Even more unfortunately, it worked. So now there’s a demon in my aunt’s kitchen.

“How? How were you able to summon me!?” furiously asked the demon.

“I don’t know! It was supposed to be a joke!” I whined, freaking out. I start pacing. I thought this whole thing was a joke, a prank. There’s living proof in front of me, if demons are counted as living things. I start to rethink my whole life. Every time I’ve wished for something and it happened or when I was little and had tantrums things tended to break. A million memories race through my mind, were all those times magic?

Astrid’s pretty cool, but somehow I doubt she will be cool with a demon in her kitchen. Then I hear the front door open and Astrid strolling in, her sandals flopping down the hallway. Quickly I shut the book. She walks into the room and drops her bags, gasping.

“How did you find the book?” she asked, tilting her head. That’s really her question, it’s not like it was hidden. I voiced this thought aloud. “Well,” she huffed, “I didn’t think teenagers cooked, other than the microwave, I really didn’t think you’d find it”. Really? She didn’t think that I’d find it... In the pantry. Where the food is. Wow.

“A child summoned me, as a joke, un-fucking-believable” muttered the demon.

“I’m nearly twenty-one, thank you very much.” I tell the demon hotly. I can’t believe he thinks I’m a child. Just because I’m tiny doesn’t mean I’m a child. Astrid shakes her head.

We both turn to inspect the demon. He really doesn’t look all that demon-like. Not that I’ve ever really thought about what a demon would look like. He looks like a perfectly normal man, except for the fact that he’s drop dead gorgeous. Dark brown mid-length messy hair, a jawline so sharp it could kill, perfectly blemish free pale skin, and nearly golden hazel eyes. Not to mention he towers over me. His arms are crossed, but he’s smirking like he knows I was checking him out.

“What’s your name, demon?” she questions him. He smirks and shakes his head at her, hair falling into his eyes.

“You didn’t summon me, witch, I don’t have to tell you anything” he says. Which from what I read out of the spellbook, is true.

CAUTION: always use a salt circle during summoning or the demon can attack you. When striking your deal, make sure you include a no harm (comes to me or my family or friends) clause. Any demon summoned cannot tell the witch that summoned him a lie, but be warned they can twist the truth so be sure to ask all questions as specific as possible and will most likely avoid questions. NEVER tell another witch that you can summon a demon. Both will be after you.

“What demon did you summon out of the book?” My aunt looks at me and reaches for the book.

“Um…” I don’t remember. I didn’t really look, just picked a spell. She gives me a ‘really’ look that makes my heart clench up because it looks just like the one my mom used to give me. Then she nods to the demon. I clear my throat and look down.

“What’s your name?” I ask nicely. He gives me a look.

“I go by many names,” he says. Astrid gives me a stern look.

“Please tell me your name” I say.

“Only because you said please” he says begrudgingly. “My name is Astaroth”.My aunt gasps. I don’t know why Astrid looks so surprised, I got the spell from her book. He smirks. “Let’s make a deal, little witch, I have things to do” he says in a bored tone. I guess he decided this would go faster if he cooperated.

“Ask for protection, but be sure to include a no harm clause. Do NOT bargain for your soul” whispers Astrid to me.

“I want protection, including from you. You can NOT harm me or anyone who does not wish me harm.” I think that’s pretty good. Then he smirks.

“And what will you give me in return?” he asks.

“What do you want, besides my soul?” I ask cautiously.

“A spell of my choosing when the time comes” he states. I look at Astrid. She nods, looking resigned.

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with you protecting me, then you have a deal”. Astrid grabs a needle and pricks my finger with it. Astaroth grows claws and does the same. We both place our hands against the barrier and our blood mixes. The deal is sealed. A blood red pendant appears in his hand and he tries to hand it to me but the salt circle prevents him from doing so.

“This is no longer necessary, I can’t harm you” he states . Astrid nods and somehow releases the magic from the circle without saying a word. He steps out towards me and hands me the pendant.

“Wear this and think my name three times in a row when you need me” and with that he was gone in a puff of black smoke. Astrid burst out laughing. I glared at her. What, exactly, is so funny?

“Man, I tried to summon a demon from that book for years and you did it by accident.” says Astrid wiping tears from her eyes.

“Wait, isn’t it your book?” I ask. It’s a valid question. I did find it in her kitchen.

“Oh, heavens no. That book belonged to your grandmother. I’ve never attempted even half the spells in it. I’m better at potions and candle spells. It was your mother that-” she stopped suddenly.

“My mother what?” I asked, now very curious.

“Your mother was much more powerful, she could do magic I could only dream of doing” says Astrid wistfully. Now I’m the one laughing, my mother, who hated magic so much she once grounded me for watching Now You See Me on TV, was the powerful witch. Right. I snort.

“I think you should read more about Astaroth in the Grimoire” she says somberly. I agree after she confirms that the grimoire is the spellbook. I take it to my room and start to read the delicate handwriting.

Astaroth is the demon of seduction and lust, of vanity and sloth. He has a sexual appetite like an incubus and can feed in the same way. He is of the First Hierarchy and official titles are Lord Treasurer of Hell and Prince of accusers and inquisitors. Be wary of his pet dragon and serpent.

How in the fuck did I summon a Prince of Hell, and if an incubus is what I think it is then I don’t want him anywhere near me. He has a dragon? I guess I can believe in witches but dragons, come on.