Never Summon Without Protectin

NOTE: This is just an idea I had swirling in my head and I decided to put it down on paper. Let me know what you think, even if you only read a bit of it!

“Remember,” Sergeant  Linda had barked, “You’re in hiding. That means you keep things on the DL. No hulking out, tangling with magical creature or wizards, or doing whatever you goddamn freaks do. This is as close to witness protection as we can get you. If I get one word of you doing anything… peculiar I will hall your ass to the Judge myself, and take personal pleasure in watching you get Yoked. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Ma’am,” I quickly replied, giving what I hoped was a smile that looked agreeable and willing to please as I quickly bobbed my head up and down.

Her scowl left me in doubt about the agreeableness of my look however. She turned to go and with one quick glance back said, “I mean it Quez,” her voice full of warning, “They won’t care if something happens. You are to be invisible, period, got it?”

“I promise,” I had hurriedly answered, “You’ll never even know I was here.”

How come promises always sounded easier to keep when you make them? Just thinking about the sergeant brought one thought to my mind, Dammit.

I quickly wipe the sweat from my face, wincing at how little good it actually does. With a shake of my head I send hundreds of little drops flying through the air, while others trace their way down my soot stained face. Fire roars all around me, all encompassing, and hypnotic in the way it dances and growls. In the center of it all, he stands. He is a behemoth of power and perfection, sweet to look at, reeking of sexuality, authority, and death.

Lithe limbs, tanned and muscled, flawless skin, and sparkling blue eyes that suck you in. His smile is blinding white and each tooth looks perfect and cared for. His hands are well manicured, and each strand of his dark hair is perfectly tucked in place. He is also clean. His white shirt is spot and wrinkle free, and his pants looked freshly creased. It would have been odd with all the soot and ash swirling through the air, but I guess some demons are vain enough to care about their appearances. I’m not the kind of guy who goes for other men, but in his case, I would make an exception, if he wasn’t trying to kill me.

I glance over my shoulder at Brandon and wince at the amount of blood that is pumping from his shoulder. The wound is black on the edges, burnt and raw, while the center of the gash is a massive tear, a rent in his flesh where white bone can be seen. We need to do something about that, and quick. His brother Josh kneels by his side, his pudgy face scrunched up in panic as he tries to hold a filthy shirt to the wound while silently crying. Neither of them will be much help, and if something isn’t done soon we will all be dead.

The demon is looking at me with an odd expression on his face. He looks puzzled, if a demon could even get puzzled. “What are you?” he asks. He speaks softly, his voice pure and innocent, yet I can hear him as if he were whispering in my ear. The sound sends chills coursing down my spine, and makes me want to vomit. No one sounds that innocent, that sweet.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I answer as I hold out my sword, ready, waiting for him to move.

He doesn’t. His eyes watch me with interest, like a cat playing with a mouse it knows can’t escape. “You’re not… normal,” he finally purrs after a few seconds of silence. “I can’t quite figure it out, but you seem different.” A lock of black hair falls in front of his eye and he casually tucks it behind his ear. Each movement is so fluid, so quick, and so perfect I almost don’t even see it happen. I can feel my heart swiftly beating in my chest, and I try to quell my nerves. This is bad. Not like that girl from the one night stand was pregnant bad, but my heart might get torn out of my chest and eaten bad. “All of this,” the demon hisses, waving his flawless hands at the burning remains of the house that surround us. “All of this is normal, that meat bag bleeding on the ground behind you, he’s normal. You… are an abnormality, so I ask again, what are you?”

He is in front of me before I can even blink. A hand lashes out, dark claws stretch from perfect fingers and a sinister scowl on appears on his perfect face. I dodge, barley avoiding the blow and spi0n around with a quick parry, my sword flashes out in a blur of steel. He easily moves from its path and sweeps forward, closing the distance between us in the blink of an eye. I am moving purely on instinct now. Rolling back I come up and swing my sword with all my might.

I feel the impact more than see it. The blow rattles my arm and nearly sends the sword tumbling from my hands. It feels like I had hit concrete, but the demon lets out a bitter growl, and as I draw back I can see dark blood staining my blade. The demon doesn’t say anything for a moment; he just looks at the wound on his arm and frowns at it, puzzled. “You hit me,” he finally says, as if such a thing has never happened before and he couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

I don’t respond, and quickly wipe up some of the blood with my finger and kneel to the ground. I have to be quick and do this while he is distracted. Desperation fuels me, and adrenaline soars through my body, making me feel more aware and on edge than normal. As my hand touches the blood I wince. I can feel my fingers begin to burn, and hear the flesh sizzling as I hastily draw a quick symbol on the ground. I glance up and see with a grimace that the wound on his arm has mostly closed up. Perfect, wounds from my blade were not easy to heal; bathing it in the blood of a thousand virgins tends to make a weapon more potent. And just in case you were wondering, I wasn’t the one who killed the virgins and bathed it in their blood, some Persian Prince years ago did that, I was just lucky enough to find the blade. Mister demon however seemed to be having little trouble with the wound, it was sizzling and bubbling, thin fingers of smoke curling up as flesh closed with a hiss. That was strong mojo, which means whoever this guy was, he was no joke, and I was under strict orders to remain incognito to a certain extent.

With an eerie smile he looks up to me and leaps forward. I was ready for it this time, but it is still hard to watch his fluid dance. He flows ahead, and at the last moment jumps to the side. Claws whip out at me and bounce off my sword as I twist the blow aside. He comes forward again, this time moving on all fours. Clawed fingers leave smoking holes in the ground, the earth seems to peel back and melt wherever they touch as the demon comes loping forward.

This time he comes low. Claws swipe out and again I move back, avoiding the strike. The demon keeps coming, and he closes the distance between us in the blink of an eye. Triumph and glee flash over his face as he reaches for me, and then it vanishes. There is a pause, and he looks puzzled as his body stiffens. “Gotcha,” I whisper with a smug grin.

He doesn’t move, his body is frozen in place as his eyes dart around, before they glance down below at the ground. His foot rests on the rune I had drawn with his blood. It is a simple rune, his blood being the main key, though it is the sign for a creature of fire and shadow. “Clever, clever,” the demon murmurs, even though his mouth doesn’t move.

I don’t respond, but I feel my fear subside a bit. The rune is basic, so basic I doubt it will hold the demon for more than five minutes. I am missing the important elements to truly trap the creature. The name of the demon being the first thing, and it would help to know what type he was, what kind of authority it has. You know, all the basic things for summoning and banishing, all of which I have none of. The one person who did have it all was unconscious, and I have only minutes to wake him up.

I quickly slip the sword into the sheath on my back and hurry over to Josh and Brandon, wiping sweat and soot from my eyes. “It won’t stop, it won’t stop,” Josh is murmuring as he rocks back and forth. The poor kid is cracking, not that I can blame him. Few people manage to stay around an unrestrained demon and survive, or keep their sanity.

“Josh,” I snap, “Josh look at me!” Teary blue eyes look up and I gave him a smile. “Good, now I need you to talk to me. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Josh whispers. The poor kid is beyond terrified. He looks sick, and ready to faint. Blood covered hands are clenched at his side, they shake with fear.

“Not good enough Josh,” I growl, “What happened, how the hell did you two manage this? How did you bring that,” I motion at the frozen demon to emphasize my point, “Thing here!”

“The boys weak,” a voice hisses in my ear. Freaking demons and their ability to sound like they are everywhere, this is one of the many reasons I avoid them.

I turned to glare at the figure, “Shut it bud, you won’t be hear much longer.” The demons finger twitches suddenly and I whirl back to Josh, “Come on bud, speak to me, I need to know what happened! We don’t have long here.”

“It was Brandon,” Josh whispers, “He said it would be simple, easy, we had no idea.”

“I understand that,” I say, trying to be patient. “So what did you do? Was there a sacrifice? What name did you use?”

“There wasn’t a name,” Josh sobs as he buries his face in his hands. “We didn’t do anything, we just read the words! And it was just a rabbit that was the sacrifice.”

“How’s that even possible,” I mutter. It doesn’t make sense, and I feel my stomach sinking towards the floor. How had they summoned this… thing without even invoking his name? And a demon of this power! I had never seen one brought into our world without a significant sacrifice, but a rabbit? I look back at the demon and wince as his head gives a small twitch. Not good, he was breaking the spell faster than I would have guessed. I need more time. I can’t banish him without more info, which means I need to keep the demon frozen.

I slowly stand and walk over to him, hating how perfect he looks. It makes me want to help him, but it also makes me sick, no one should look like that. Thank god he isn’t a woman; otherwise I probably would be down on the ground bowing before him. “Out of ideas?” the demon growls, his teeth clenched. Did it sound smug, God I hated demons. Its leg suddenly shifts and I can feel the rune weaken, and I know time is limited. I am desperate, and I feel like I am on a chain. If I step out of bounds I have no doubt that the Sergeant will drag me off to the Judge, which isn’t to say that even now I haven’t been toying the line. I am limited in what I can do. At the most I can buy time until someone with a little more juice in their blood comes around. I glance down at the ring on my index finger, and know it is risky, but about as good as I can do, if I can even do it.

“Hardly,” I mutter. I slip my ring off of my finger and flip it into the air. “See this buddy,” I call, “Its iron, pure and simple.” I twirl it around in front of him so he can see the old inscribing and the pictures of knights carved into its smooth surface.

“You think a toy can hold me?” the demon snarls, “You’re desperate.”

“Maybe,” I admit, “But this isn’t a toy. I got this from a magi a few years ago.” I hold the ring forward and begin to murmur softly. The ring slowly lifts up off of my hand and begins to glow. I will have to use every ounce of power I have left to make this work. All I can do is pray it will be enough.

I reach deep within and begin to chant. The words on the ring spin before my eyes as I pour everything I have into the iron. It begins to glow; fire runs down the symbols as it stretches and grows. “I call the winds to guard and seal,” I murmur as my eyes slowly close, “Let the North hear me and know, let the South feel me and know, let the East see me and know, let the West inhale me and know… that the boundaries have been tested, and must be realigned!” I toss the ring into the air as it spins, fiery symbols dance on its surface as it floats over to the demon and slips over the creatures head. The pictures of the knights seem to move, and I feel the power within the iron vibrate through the air

The demon lets out a shriek of rage and at that moment I feel the rune break. The power I had inscribed into it shatters as the word disappears in a gout of flames. He moves at the same time, a howl echoes from his mouth as he comes at me, teeth bared. There is no time to move, no time to breathe, and in panic I close my eyes. Silence. No claws tear into me, no teeth rip out my throat, and I slowly open my eyes to see that the ring has taken hold.

It is wrapped around the demon’s neck like a collar. The smooth iron glows like burning embers. Four rusty chains are strung from the collar and rooted in the ground like four corners. At each corner stands the form of a human. They flicker in and out of sight with each gust of the wind. I know who they are, Spirits of the air, bound to hold the demon in place, for now at least.  “It worked,” I breathe in disbelief. My knees buckle and give out as I fall on all fours, fighting for a breath. My head swims and my vision blurs for a moment. Fight it, I hiss to myself, This is not the time to faint, fight it!

Teeth gritted, I slowly shake my head until my vision clears. Then I slowly wobble up to my feet. “Well looks like my little trinket worked,” I say with a grin.

The demon doesn’t answer. His gorgeous face is a twisted mask of rage as he claws at the collar, trying to rip it from his throat. He bucks and jerks, trying anything to loosen the hold it has on him. But the chains don’t budge, and he is held firmly in place. “Puny weakling!” he shrieks, “You think I will be cowed by your archaic sorcery!”

“Looks like you already have been,” I spat, as I turn and limp back over to Brandon and Josh. My limbs feel heavy and tired. I know I will regret this later. I probably will be laid up in bed for a good week.

“What did you do?” Josh whispers with wide eyes as I kneel down beside Brandon and check the wound.

“It’s a binding collar, a real one from back way back in the dark ages. See those windy forms?” Josh nods yes, “Yea well those are spirits of the wind. They’ll make sure he stays rooted there. It’s one of the most powerful binding spells I know of, and even if our buddy over there is the King of Hell, he won’t be able to break free for a long time.”

“What’s the price?” Josh asks me with a worried expression.

The question surprises me and I stop for a moment, blinking my eyes stupidly at him. “What do you mean,” I cautiously ask.

“The price,” he repeats, “Brandon told me there is always a price to pay for working magic, like the bunny we sacrificed.”

“Yea,” I drawl, “I don’t know how in the hell that bunny did anything. As far as that binding spell goes, well…” I hesitate for a moment, wondering how much to share with the kid. “Let’s just say the price was paid a long time ago.” I turn back toward Brandon, and lift the bloody shirt from his shoulder. The demon had got him good, and the three bloody claw marks look like they are still smoking. “This is beyond me,” I whisper softly as I feel his fevered brow.

“You can’t help him?” Josh chocks, his chubby chin begins to tremble as he prepares to break out into another torrent of tears. “You have to Quez, you have to!”

“There has to be someone out there who can help him,” I mutter angrily. I’m not mad at him, I’m mad at myself and this hopeless, messed up situation.  I look back at the demon. It is still growling and shrieking with each twist and yank as it tries to break out of the collar. What to do? Brandon needs help, and quick. Demonic magic is strong, and I knew he probably had poison swirling around in his blood already, eating at his conscious and stealing his life away. However we couldn’t just leave mister demon here by himself. No matter how strong that binding spell is, I had the sinking suspicion that he would manage to break it eventually. I needed someone strong, and skilled in the art and lore of banishing and demonology. The only problem was I had no idea who to call. Once it was something I might have been able to do, I would have at least attempted it, but the threat of being Yoked was no joke. It meant that I had limits to what I was allowed to do, and I was pretty sure I had already toed the line enough for one day.

My mind made up I turn to Josh and motion toward Brandon. “Help me get him up,” I order, “We need to find some help for your brother, and hopefully we can find someone to help with our demon friend at the same time.”

Josh wearily nods at me, and moves to help when a piercing shriek thunders through the air. The boy falls on his knees with a scream, hands clawing at his ears as blood begin to drip from them. I feel the sound more than hear it. The very earth seems to ripple with the cry, and for a moment I am so disoriented I crashed to the ground, pawing helplessly as the sound reverberates through my head.

The demon. I can hear him chuckling softly, and as I slowly crawl up he is looking at me with a smug smile. No way is this good. “What,” I rasp, “did you do.”

He shrugs. “I can’t break out of this, but maybe someone around here can help me. I know we are by a city of some sort, I can feel the mortals moving about. And where there are mortals, there are those who feed on them.”

“Shit,” I hiss as I reach down and try to drag Josh up to his feet. “We’ve got to go,” I scream, “Now!” I know what is coming; I know what sort of things answer magical calls.

The earth gives another shudder under our feet, and the desperation I feel gives me strength. I haul Josh up, and scooped Brandon into my arms. “Come on Josh,” I yell as I turn to go. I don’t even take one step before I hear a siren call go up. I whirl about and am surprised to see a cop car come swirling down the dirt road toward the ruined house. Dust and dirt fly in its wake, and for a moment I panick. The last thing we need is another human, but then I see a small rune inscribed on the side of the car. It is a magical symbol, the sign that this officer was a lawful mage, and had the authority to deal with magical problems. Maybe this was actually a good thing.

I set off for the car, and it screeches to a halt a few yards away as an officer jumps out, gun in hand. “Freeze!” he yells, “not a step further!”

Oh great, I think, He’s young. The poor guy before me is in his early twenties, and from the panicked expression on his face, he was new to this type of thing. I went to take another step, but he waves his gun at me and shrieks, “Don’t! You take one more step and I swear I will put a bullet in your head!” A trigger happy young man, I think, Wonderful!

“You need to call for help,” I say, trying to sound calm and reasonable. “My friend here is hurt, badly, and that thing back there needs to be dealt with.”

The cop’s eyes grow big as he looks back at me and the devastation that had been Brandon’s grandma’s house. Not too far from the burning ruins stand the demon, watching us with wry amusement. The glowing collar still around his neck and secured by the four chains and ethereal guardians. “He’s who I felt,” the cop whispers, and his face turned a bit green.

“Calm down bud,” I call, trying to get him to focus on me again. “And yes, he is who you felt, we need to deal with him and fast, before others come.”

“Others?” the cop croaks. I never get to reply. A thin piece of wood explodes from the cop’s chest, and for a moment everything seems to freeze. His eyes widened in surprise as blood squirts from his upper body, and he looks at me pleadingly. Our eyes meet, and for a moment I wish I could do something. But all I offer is pity, and in the next instant his eyes fall out of his head as branches forc their way through his sockets. They spiral up to the sky, sprouting leaves and bark. His arms seem to droop like taffy and then they plung into the earth, hardening and growing bark. His toes burst from his shoes like roots, plunge into the earth and take hold. With a shriek his neck elongates and begins to sprout buds and branches. Blood splatters everywhere, raining down as I hear bones crack and reform.

The whole transformation takes seconds, and the next thing I know a young tree stands before me. Of course the fact that it still held onto tattered pieces of a uniform, and most of it was bathed in blood was odd, but it was assuredly a tree. I see Josh go white as a sheet as he turns and vomits next to me. The very sound of him makes me lose my lunch as well. I struggle not to drop Brandon as I sit his limp form down and hurl all over.

This is a bad day, I think as I look back at the tree. An old woman stands by it now, patting the bark and murmuring softly to the wood. She is dressed in rags, and looks homeless. Tattered white hair, and knobby hands adorned with yellow finger nails griped a short wooden cane. The end of the cane is still wet with blood, and as she turns toward us I nearly fall over. She has no eyes, empty sockets glare at me, and the old hag offers up a toothy grin. “Can’t have him calling for help, can we my dears?” she calls to us. Her voice is heavily accented, and as she talks she reaches up to the tree and plucks off a red apple that has grown from one of the branches. Polishing off a few splotches of blood she bites into the apple with a wet crunch before offering it out to us.

“Quez,” Josh chokes, I can tell he is trying not to hurl again, “What’s going on?”

“Were coming sweetie,” the woman says with a soft smile. Her ancient face looks like it will crack with the grin, and I swear I can hear her leathery skin stretching and groaning.

“Who?” Josh whispers before I could tell him to be quiet. It’s never wise to talk to creatures like this, sometimes if they hear your voice enough they can have power over you.

“The old ones,” the woman softly whispers, as if each word is precious. “We shall see who will claim that little prize who have summoned up.” She pauses for a moment and tilts her head to the side. “Do you hear that?” she purrs.

I do. Looking up to the sky I see hundreds of ravens flying towards us. They scream and caw, turning the sky black as they slowly land on the ground. With popping and crunching noises they begin to jump on each other. I can only watch with disgust as they slowly pile into two groups. Feathers explode, necks twist, and feet shrink as the birds merge together.  In a matter of seconds two women stand in their place. Both are tall and pale, with jet black hair, and clothes that seem to have been woven from feathers. They wear bracelets and necklaces made out of small skulls, and bird feet are stuck in their hair.

It was then I noticed the others. A small girl stood a little ways off as well. She has to be no older than ten, and beside her stands a small boy about the same age. Both are dressed well, she wears a pretty pink dress and her hair is all tied up with ribbons and bows. The boy has on a small black suit and vest with a tiny hat to keep his blonde locks in check.

Off to their right stands a man of some sort, or maybe even a woman. I can’t tell, but all I can see is a form dressed in black rags. The being holds a small incense burner, and it swings around in his hands, sending small curls of smoke into the air.

“I think this will be all,” a cheerful voice calls from behind. I whirl around to see four more people have appeared. Two of them stand together, and look almost normal in comparison to everyone else. They both have simple jackets with jeans and plaid shirts. They shrewdly eye everyone else, as if taking in the competition. They are the least odd looking of everyone, just a couple of average Joes. The other two stands apart, one of them is tall, nearly eight feet. He has a large axe resting on his shoulder, and is dressed up like some fur trader I have seen in a history book. Furs are wrapped around his body and feet, while the skin of some large animal hangs draped from his back like a cloak. He is like freaking Paul Bunyan without the blue ox.

The last man grins as he stars at everyone. He is a pudgy fellow, dressed in an old fashioned suit with a monocle in one eye. A large cigar is clenched between two of his pudgy fingers, and a tall top hat rests on his bald head. His small black eyes take everything in with one glance, and his round red cheeks jiggle with a soft laugh. His hands are covered in white gloves that ware obviously to tight, and his foot taps on the ground as if keeping time to some music only he can hear. “I have set up a barrier around this area my friends,” he calls to everyone with a large puff on the cigar. Lazy curls of smoke drift from his noise as he slowly exhales. “No one will be able to find this area until our business is concluded.”

“Business?” one of the average Joes asks.

“Why of course my dear fellow,” the suited man says with another smile as he waves over at the demon. “We all felt the call of the demonic entity over there, and we all know what is capable with that kind of power. The only question is who gets him?”

“Quez…” Josh whispers, “What’s going on? Who are they all?”

“Monsters,” I quietly reply. And if what the suited fellow said was true the barrier around this place means we are all trapped in here. Our chances of surviving were quickly spiraling down to zero.