For what felt like the hundredth time that day, I pulled out my phone and researched demons.
Part of me was annoyed with myself for being so obsessed with this, but the other half said it was necessary. Three days had passed since that dream and my parents seemed to be avoiding me.
Why? I didn’t know, but perhaps that dream had more truth than I’d originally thought. If so, I had to educate myself on all things demons, especially the deals they made. Even though the guy said he was the devil himself, but I refused to believe that.
If my parents did make a deal, how in the world would they have managed to reach the devil? No, this had to be a demon so obsessed with Satan that he took on the persona.
I browsed the internet, finding nothing new since I checked an hour ago. Sighing, I tapped on the first website and read through even more demon experiences.
Most of them were summonings made from people who wanted to get revenge on those who wronged them. There were a few who made deals to keep loved ones alive, or to keep themselves alive. Some even summoned demons to help them get rich. However, all of them required a sacrifice to be made. Some people offered a life of servitude or a firstborn child. Others offered the lives of people they didn’t like.
There were some instances where a deal went wrong and a demon ended up taking over the summoner’s body without permission, draining their life until they killed off the host body. Sometimes even children would fall victim to these wayward demons and they would die faster than an average adult.
As I kept reading I discovered that in those situations, exorcisms didn’t work since the demon would take the soul of the host with them when they were cast out.
Clicking on a different tab, I read that there wasn’t a correct way to summon demons. All that was needed to have a successful summoning was a clear idea of what was wanted, and who would be the best demon to grant that desire. Someone even made a list of known demons and what they were good for.
Despite reading the list five times, I didn’t see Lucifer’s name.
Huh.
Below the list came a warning stating that in order to make a deal one had to be prepared to sell their soul or to condemn someone else’s. Most of the time the demon would state which one they wanted.
“Ugh,” I complained, locking my phone and looking outside.
It was gloomy and chilly— just the way I liked it.
Across the street, I saw the male barista sweeping in front of the store. He had his headphones in and was smiling as he sang along. My eyes trailed over to the table beside him where the young ghost that usually followed him around was resting.
I wondered how they were related. They couldn’t be brothers, they were complete opposites. The young ghost didn’t look decomposed enough to have been dead for more than a year.
Cousins, perhaps?
My inner detective work was interrupted when I finally noticed that the ghost had come up to the store window and was looking at me.
To my complete horror, I was looking back.
The young boy’s face scrunched up and he tilted his head to one side. Slowly, he raised his hand to wave,
I forced my eyes to keep staring straight at his face.
My phone vibrated on the counter and I sighed in relief as I was able to break eye contact. Let him think what he wanted of that experience, but I would not be providing him with the answer of whether I could see him or not.
Picking up the phone I rolled my eyes at the reminder to pay my phone bill. And to think I’d thought someone wanted to talk to me.
I opened the phone anyway, noticing from the corner of my eye that the ghost was still standing in front of the window.
I typed in ‘Lucifer’ into the search bar.
News updates and images of multiple TV shows came up. I scrolled farther down but it seemed like the characters were the only thing tied to the name. It’s as if the devil wasn’t even an option.
Even more frustrated than before, I shut off my phone again and placed it face-down on the counter.
Looking up, I was relieved to see that ghost boy had gone.
“Are you okay?” came the gentle voice behind me.
I turned to see Mr. Alan standing beside the counter with Dash in his arms. The cat was purring loudly.
I leaned back against the chair and smiled at my boss,
“Yeah, I’m fine, Mr. Alan, thank you.”
He raised a bushy eyebrow.
“I’ve just been thinking too much,” I amended. “I’ll be fine though.”
“Well, it can be helpful to talk about it with someone— to get a different perspective. Only if it’s something you want to share, though.”
I leaned my elbows against the counter and frowned.
“I just… It’s complicated,” I admitted. “I recently found out something about my parents and I don’t know what to make of it. I don’t even know if it’s real.”
Mr. Alan rubbed Dash’s head as he replied, “Have you tried talking to them?”
I scrunched up my face. “Kind of. I brought it up a few days ago but they pretended like they didn’t know what I was talking about.
“What makes you think they were pretending?”
I opened my mouth but my answer got lost on it’s way out.
“I… I guess… It’s just a gut feeling? I actually don’t know for sure if they were pretending or not.”
Mr. Alan hummed. “How did you find out about this thing?”
I felt my face heat up. There was no way I was going to tell him that a man from my dreams showed me the entire thing like a video.
“Someone told me,” I mumbled to the countertop,
If he saw my blush and picked up on my half-truth, then he was my hero for not saying anything. Instead, he gently placed Dash on the counter. The black cat sat and let Mr. Alan keep petting him.
“So why don’t you ask the other person where they got their information from?” he asked.
“Well, they kind of already told me where they got their information from. I just want more— I have so many questions.”
“Then go ask them,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Wait.
“You’re absolutely right, Mr. Alan.”
I would summon him as soon as I got off work. Yes, that could work. I didn’t know whether he’d want my life or someone else’s, but I could bargain with him. It was just information, after all. I wasn’t asking for any favors.
Mr. Alan gave me a pointed look that put a pause to my thoughts.
“What?” I asked ever so rudely.
“What are you still doing here? Go on! Find this person and ask them your questions!”
His words made sense but I still had no idea what he was saying.
“My shift isn’t over for another three hours, though?”
Stupid, that’s what I was. Mr. Alan was too nice to say that to me, but I could see it in his eyes.
He thought I was stupid, too.
Mr. Alan walked around the counter and placed his arms on my shoulders, gently leading me away from the cash register.
“I can handle it, dear,” he said. “Thursdays are our slowest days. Anyway, this has clearly been bothering you for some time and I want you to get it sorted out. You’re scaring away my customers with all your staring.”
I laughed for the first time in three days.
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