For starters, I did not have access to an uncircumcised baby. Those are traditionally rather difficult to procure. I know a guy, but he's the sort of guy you'd really rather not owe a favor. Plus, if I'm being perfectly forthright here, I'm a touch uncomfortable around babies.
In place of the uncircumcised baby, I sacrificed seven goldfish, two frozen HungryMan brand single-serve dinners, and an iPhone 5. There's no conversion chart for this sort of thing, but that felt like an adequate substitution. Again, minding the fact that I don't rate babies very highly.
Also, I'm a bit squeamish. So rather than smearing the altar in "fresh arterial blood, given freely by the summoner" I just used a bit of leftover bacon grease. In hindsight, I'm not entirely sure what my logic was there. Likely, that the jar was handy, I suppose.
In full retrospect, as I type this out, it's beginning to become more and more apparent where my folly lay.
The chanting, at least, was as directed. I'm a very good chanter. My middle school choir director always made special request that I chant rather than sing my parts. My chanting diction is excellent.
As I chanted, the offering upon the altar began to smoke. The windows rattled. The iPhone rang, then bubbled, which reminded me that I really ought to have written my contacts down somewhere.
As the church filled with smoke and the smell of melting plastic and broiled goldfish, tendrils of white steam began to swirl, forming a cylinder above the altar. The cylinder widened, then solidified. Finally, the smoke dissipated. A crack formed down the face of the white column, racing north to south. The column split apart.
And there was my demon. My beautiful, winged demon.
She glanced about the church as I sized her up. Long, white, feathery wings. Gleaming white robes. A golden halo. Hair like woven silk. A lyre nestled in the crook of her arms. Single exposed breast casually swinging above the folds of her robe.
I'd clearly pulled a reject.
"Joseph Aaron Levine," she spoke. Her voice sent a trill down my back. "You have summoned me."
"Yes," I said, trying gallantly not to show my disappointment. The poor thing. What must her life have been like amongst the other demons? Such a delicate, disfigured thing. I promised I would do my best not judge or treat her unkindly. "I would have you serve me here on Earth. There is great work to be done. I request your aid."
Her face was calm and still, like porcelain. No slavering jowls or beady black eyes. Poor dear. "Do you seek redemption for your Earthly sins?"
I bit back a sigh. It wasn't her fault. She was clearly a victim of her own poor genetics.
"No, no my dear." I spoke slowly, encouragingly. "You will help me crush my enemies. Do you understand?"
Her face remained still as glass. "The enemies within your soul?"
My hands clenched into fists. I took a deep breath. "No, no. Your confusion is understandable. When I speak of enemies, I mean actual enemies. Specifically Kyle in Accounts Receivable and that lady at the DMV who rolled her eyes at me when I corrected her spelling. Real humans who need to be destroyed."
The demon played a lazy note upon her lyre. "You wish to bring peace into their hearts?"
My eye twitched. "The peace of death, yes. Thank you."
"Death is but a doorway that opens onto an eternity of salvation," said the demon. "If they should die, they must rebuke their sinful past and open their hearts to forgiveness, as all who walk the Earth must do if they are to..."
"My apologies," I shouted, unconsciously snapping my fingers as I spoke. "Are you going to help me get my revenge or not?"
"There is no revenge," spoke the demon. "Only in forgiveness may one find the path that leads..."
"Okay! That's fine! Thank you. Fine. You are released." I spread my arms wide. "I thank you for your time, but our business is concluded. Please return to the bowels of Hell from whence you came."
The demon's pale face remained calm and still. She didn't go anywhere.
"Go away now. Thank you."
Still nothing. I retrieved the ancient text, flipping anxiously through the dusty pages. Nothing. There was nothing on banishing a demon back to the underworld.
The demon was plucking absently upon her lyre. "Joseph, do you seek redemption for your Earthy sins?"
"Yes," I muttered. "One sin in particular."
If you are reading this and have familiarity with the rites and codes of demons, please send word. She follows me everywhere. She is always watching. She is forever noting the respective sinfulness of my actions.
I have brought Hell upon myself. If mercy is possible, please, please send help at all speed.
Yours in Damnation,
Joseph A. Levine
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