When it comes to monsters, there’s never really any distinguishing between fact and fiction. Even the most absurd of myths can turn out to be true, so it’s always better to err on the side of caution. That being said, Caspar didn’t realize he’d ever have the bad luck to encounter something so foul. It’s the monster even the most experienced hunters whisper about, praying it’s just a myth gone awry: A demon. 

The woman’s unnatural colored eyes and pentagram make it extremely clear this monster can’t be anything else. Caspar’s heart races with a strange mixture of excitement and fear.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” she coos, standing.

Despite her petite frame and doe-like eyes, Caspar's whole nervous system is flushing hot and cold. Preparing for fight or flight. He takes a step back pointing the knife he’d been concealing at his enemy. 

She only smirks, brushing a dark lock of waist-length hair over a pale, white shoulder. “That’s really not needed.”

“What do you want?” Caspar growls.

“It’s not what I want that's important here. It's what you need to know. I have some vital information you could use.” 

“Oh yeah? I’m sure you’d love to trick me into some shitty contract for it.”

“You’re afraid. That’s smart, considering your situation. However, I am not the immediate threat here.”

Caspar grits his teeth. “Not the immediate threat. Cute wordplay. I'm not contracting you and I won’t give you my soul.”

“I’m already in a contract. I want out. All I need from you is your help, not your soul. I need a hunter.”

Caspar laughs. “Monsters are hiring hunters now? How fucking ironic.”

She smiles. “Ironic it may be, Caspar, but you will die if you don’t take this chance.”

“And that would be a worse fate than having my soul consumed?”

The demon walks along the edge of the pentagram, bare feet tiptoeing the line delicately. “You’re not wrong about me. But I'm a caged monster. So who do you think is the bigger threat, the dog or the man holding the leash?”

Caspar considers the situation. It could be that this creature is lying. Maybe there's a hunter here keeping it trapped. After all, there are no stories of how to kill them, only about how to trick or escape them. And Caspar doesn’t think he can win a fiddling contest right now with how his hands are shaking. 

On the other hand, people are missing. Something is taking them, and it can’t be this demon if it’s trapped in a pentagram. 

“What’s happening to the people who come here?” Caspar asks, willing his voice to not waver.

The demon smiles sweetly. “They’re being eaten.”

“By what?”

“Vampires. There's a coven here, numbering in the hundreds.”

“Don’t fucking lie. They can’t—”

“They’d starve waiting for new victims. Right?”

Caspar glares. “Yes.”

The demon opens her arms wide. “That supposes that they don’t have an immortal blood bag, right?”

“They’re—they’re feeding on you?”

“For some 200 odd years now.”

Caspar looks on the ground. He’s disgusted to find the bare concrete is marred with dried brown spots. Fuck. This is bad. He can’t kill that many vampires, no fucking way. Maybe she’s lying? But if she’s not, Caspar is done for.

“So what, they tricked you? I thought demons were supposed to be smart,” asks Caspar. 

The demon sighs, lacing her fingers together as she sways girlishly. “It wasn’t a bad deal at first. A head vampire contracts me to allow their coven to feed. They die, either from a hunter’s hand or their own petty squabbles. I collect their souls. A new head vampire rises to the occasion. I find them. They make a new contract. The cycle repeats.”

“Sounds like an all you can eat buffet. So what's the problem?”

“They stopped dying. Douglas came along and decided to entwine God with his coven. He filled the whole town with God-fearing vampires. Ones who literally follow the bible, if you can believe it. They don’t even know that the source of their sustenance is me, a hellspawn. Ironic, right? ”

“Isn’t Thou Shalt Not Kill a commandment?”

“Well, the human believers still slaughter their livestock, do they not? Or is the modern age now filled with herbivores?”

Caspar glares. He doesn’t appreciate the comparison of human life to cattle. “So let me guess. You want to make a deal for my soul.”

The demon giggles, red eyes flashing. “I'm honored you’d consider a pact. But it won't be necessary to promise your soul. All I want from you is some trust. Break the seal and free me. If you can kill Douglas, I can take care of the rest of the coven. Do we have a deal?”

“Why can’t you kill Douglas?”

“He is my contractor, and part of our covenant is that I may not harm him. You will have to face him on your own.”

“How do I know you won't kill me once I free you?”

“What would I get out of that? If you didn’t promise your soul, I’m just wasting my time.”

Caspar takes a moment. Is this a mistake? Surely, nothing good will come from making a deal with a devil.

The demon gestures to the corner of the room. “If you don’t believe me, check over there. That should be proof enough.”

Caspar looks. In the corner obscured by shadows, is a large metallic box. A horizontal fridge. Cautiously, he walks over to it. 

Opening it slowly, he half-expects a curled-up body. Instead, he finds gallons and gallons of wine-red blood. Each of them is marked with a bit of tape and sharpie. In the first shelf he finds four labeled the same: 

Ruth, 7/31, Monday Mass.

Caspar’s heart sinks. Even the most voracious vampire couldn’t drink all this in one sitting. Was the demon telling the truth? It was for a whole congregation?

There's no other choice here then, is there?

Caspar chooses his words carefully. “From now on while discussing this deal, you can only speak the truth. Got it?”

The demon only smiles placidly. “Why do you think I’d lie?”

“Because you want my soul, and I don’t believe you’re the type to get it fairly. As part of our contact, you cannot take my soul at any point. Understood?”

“For the duration of our contract, I will not take your soul, agreed. I didn’t want it anyway, Caspar. You think I’ll take the soul of anyone? I’m a picky eater, I’m not going to take something drug through blood and guts and filth.”

Caspar can’t muster an argument. It’s true, anyway. “I will free you. In return, you will protect me from harm and agree to not bring harm to me or my loved ones. I will attempt to kill the leader of the coven. When he is dead you will eliminate the rest of his flock.”

“Harm is subjective Caspar. You need to be more specific. I will not agree to a contract that would be violated if you got a splinter. Furthermore, the mere fact that I am inhuman could cause you or your loved ones psychological harm. So this deal is untenable.”

Caspar grits his teeth. “Fine. I will free you. In return, you will attempt your best to not allow debilitating harm to come to me. You will not intentionally harm me or my loved ones. I will attempt to kill the leader of the coven, while you take on the rest of the vampires of the church.”

“And how long will this deal last?”

“What do you mean?”

“I will not agree to protect you ad infinitum.”

“Fine. Once all the vampires of Redpine are dead, our contract is complete.”

“Deal,” the demon grins, eyes wide. She offers her hand. 

“Wait. One more condition.”

“Yes?”

“If you’re lying about anything you’ve just told me, our deal is voided and you can never influence, interact, or harm me and my loved ones.”

Silence hangs heavy in the air. Suddenly, the demon laughs. “I do have something to confess, then.”

Caspar grits his teeth. Of course she had something to hide. “Spit it out.”

“I lied when I said your soul was unappealing. Bloody, bruised, ruined,” she licks her lips, “you’re just my type.”

Caspar’s face flushes, despite his common sense telling him this is the absolute worse time to become aroused. He pushes the bad thoughts down, deep into the recesses of his mind to access when there's nobody around to judge him. “You’re not getting to me, monster. Did you lie about the vampires too?”

She tilts her head. “I didn’t. Douglas will be a feat to kill alone, and he’s inspired the whole church to turn.”

“Fine.”

“If that’s all, I'm ready. I acknowledge my agreement to all the terms we have settled on," she raises her hand. 

Before Caspar can think better, he grabs it. As their palms touch, an electric shiver travels down his spine. He can’t help but jolt away mid-shake, like he’s touched a live wire.

She grins, letting her hand fall. Caspar swallows hard. It’s done.

He pauses. 

He waits for something to happen…

“You need to let me out of the pentacle before I can start,” she giggles.

“I knew that.”

“Did you?”

“Shut up. Stand back.”

The demon steps to the opposite side of the pentagram. Heart pounding, Caspar uses his boot to scuff the sigil before jumping away quickly. 

He expects some outpouring of infernal energy, or perhaps for the demon to cackle menacingly, but neither happens. She simply strides out, smiling as she watches her feet cross the line.

Caspar jumps as she turns her gaze to him, eyes bright and grin sharp.

 “Alright. Are you ready?”

“We should make a plan. We can’t just go in there guns blazing,” says Caspar.

“I don’t need a gun.”

“Nevermind, just come with me.”

Caspar peeks out of the door. Nobody is in the hallway. Quickly, he scurries to his room, ushering in his new “teammate” inside. 

Caspar digs through his backpack, handing his red flannel, a belt, and last pair of jeans over. The demon looks at them, tilting her head. “What's this?”

“Clothes. You’re buck-ass naked.”

“And you care?”

“Yes. Please dress yourself.”

"Technically, our contract doesn't specify a requirement for me to be clothed."

Caspar looks up from his backpack. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

The demon sneers. “You look so offended.” 

“Alright! I don’t care if you wanna kill shit in your birthday suit, do whatever you—”

Caspar stops himself from finishing that sentence. The demon's grin widens as she waits.

 If Caspar had said do whatever you want, would that be changing their contract? Fuck. He really doesn't know how this shit works. “Do whatever you want with your outfit. I don’t care how you dress.”

“Alright. I do think there are more important matters at hand anyway. Douglas is coming.”

“Fuck!” Caspar stows away a knife in his boot. “Hide!”

“Good luck, Caspar.”

Caspar turns around. She’s vanished. Did she just hide, or is he now in this on his own?

Knock knock knock!

Caspar jumps. Someone is at the door. He pretends to not hear it.

Knock knock knock! “Caspar, are you awake?”

It's Douglas. Caspar prepares himself. “Yes, Father?”

“An issue has come up. I need you to pack up.”

“I have to leave?”

“Immediately. I’m sorry.”

“Okay. Let me get my things.”

Caspar makes a show of pretending to pack until finally, he takes a deep breath. He opens his door, making sure to not look Douglas in the eyes. “I’m ready to go.”

The door creaks open. Caspar can only allow himself to be cornered. Like a trapped animal, he prepares for a fight.