"WHO SUMMONS DARETHIAL?!"

The only sound is a child sobbing. I look around. There is no one here until I look down. On the ground, outside the circle, is a small child. The pain from this child is heady, but it is not from me. The fear is intoxicating, but it is not my fear. The anger, oh, the anger. Anger is my meat and potatoes. It is all mine. This child is angry beyond belief.

"CHILD, WHY HAVE YOU SUMMONED ME?"

"My father."

That is the owner of the pain.

"My mother."

That is the owner of the fear.

This child pours out their soul before me. I am a demon of hell. I usually am summoned by greedy bastards who seek immortality that they do not deserve. Cases such as this child go to The Other.

These parents do not believe in The Other. Not even slightly. The Other would have little power over them.

I, on the other hand, have great power over them. They have offended my master. They have offended The Other. And most of all, they have offended the flesh of their flesh, the blood of their blood, the bone of their bone.

To the core of my soul, this child's soul cries out, not for revenge. Not for vengeance. But for succor, for itself, and its siblings.

My soul moves for this child.

"YOU SHALL SUFFER NO MORE. RELEASE ME."

A tiny hand, bone thin, reaches out from under the thin blanket. The circle is broken as that hand snatches itself back under the blanket.

I see something else that sets my wrath burning bright. The blanket is encrusted with loose earth. This child was left for dead in a shallow grave, wrapped in this thin blanket that is hardly sufficient for a malnourished child.

"TAKE MY HAND, CHILD, SO THAT I MIGHT PROTECT YOU AND YOUR SIBLINGS."

That too-slender hand reaches out and grabs my hand with a force that cannot be denied. I hiss in pain at the strength of that grip, which relaxes with a sobbing "sorry."

"BE NOT SORRY. WERE IT NOT FOR YOUR STRENGTH, I WOULD NOT BE HERE, AND YOUR SIBLINGS WOULD STILL BE IN DANGER. I GIFT YOU WITH A PORTION OF MY STRENGTH THAT WE MAY SAVE YOUR SIBLINGS."

Still sobbing, but now with vigor, the child stands and holds my hand as a child holds a beloved parent's hand for safety and assurance. My soul stirs in ways that I do not understand.

"THINK OF WHERE YOU AWOKE."

A flash of panic eased by a gentle squeeze of the child's hand. The panic subsides. A dark road, some distance from the road, a shallow grave. This field is nothing but shallow graves. Each filled with one or more children in the same sad state as this one, but without the burning will to live so he might save his siblings.

I can see their footsteps. They are the most recent to use this place, but they are not the first nor the only. We track them back to the road, thence to a large house well bedecked with All Hallows Eve decorations. This is an affluent neighborhood; why does the entire place stink of fear and despair?

On this night when mischief is most free, this neighborhood reeks of conformity in fear of one's life. The children in their bright costumes are quiet and orderly. Older children guide the younger, not cruelly, but with the only love these children know. Adults are feared, save for a few, none of whom live anywhere near. In each house, children on the brink of adulthood stand at the doors in their costumes. They are waiting for the other children to come to the door and carry out a macabre ritual with more fear than hope. Who will not come tonight? Who will never be seen or spoken of again?

Where are the adults?

Ah. They gather in the large house on the hill. The one this child once called home, until driven to desperation this child struck back at the abusers. Not in fear of its own life but in fear for another. An older sibling who stepped forward to protect this child.

"THE ONE YOU FOUGHT TO PROTECT STILL LIVES BUT IS IN NEED OF MEDICAL ATTENTION." I feel that tiny, thin hand grow stronger than steel. "GOOD. YOU MUST ENTER THE HOUSE AND RALLY THE CHILDREN. ANY YOU WOULD SAVE MUST BE OUT OF THE HOUSE BY DAWN. NONE WHO REMAIN WILL SURVIVE MY WRATH."

That tiny hand squeezes mine and fades into the shadows. In time, a line of children moving like shades trickles from the house. Soon enough, the child returns, nodding to me. The one who summoned me fades into the gathering mists, joining those mists as they flow towards this house filled with horrors walking in human skin.

It is time. My wrath feeds the mists and gives them form and function. The mists rise over the mansion like towering thunderstorms, crashing onto the roof like silent waves. What comes after is anything but silent. The terror is exquisite, the more so because those experiencing it thought themselves immune. I howl with glee to hear the begging of these monsters in human flesh. "No! I am important!" "Get away! Get away from me!" "You! You are dead! We buried you!"

That last becomes the final words of every soul in this place. As they depart the mortal coil, I gather them—my payment for my services—finally, silence reigns.

With the dawn only moments away, small figures depart the house, making their way to where I stand. Each thanks me before fading into the coming light.

When the dawn light strikes the ridge of the mansion, it bursts into flames. The mansion burns to the ground. No rescue services come. No one in the houses below would call aid for these. Not when they are celebrating their first all saints day, in truth. Their loved ones are safe, and the evil ones are no more.

My heart swells with the praises that are heaped upon me by the children.

DARETHIAL, YOU ARE NO LONGER FIT FOR HELL. WILL YOU ACCEPT A DIFFERENT CHARGE?

If it is in service to these children, then gladly.

Another hand touches me in a way I have not felt since the rebellion. The grim mask of a demon falls away, and the grace of an angel is restored.

This will not do, none who seek to harm children will fear this form. I am reminded of another fearsome form. One that protects many places from evil. My body becomes misshapen again, seemingly made from stone, and I adopt a perch on the gateway to this community.

Wherever they go, I will know, and my protection will go with them.

Fear me, abusers, for I know more of abuse than you can conceive.

((finis))

It was as I had not expected. We were in a...what was it? A shake-park? No, that wasn't it. A skate park. Yeah, that was it. But it wasn't teenage boys daring one another to summon me, and it wasn't greedy adults seeking immortality and riches.

It was a girl. A small, wailing girl, hiding under the nearby swings, dressed in a yellow raincoat, with long red rain boots. A summoning circle had been crudely drawn in front of her, but it was intact.

"Why did you call me?" I asked, confused by the situation.

It was dark, I could hardly make out her face, but the sound of her voice told me she'd been crying. How old was she? Five? Maybe seven?

"I didn't...I didn't know what else to do..." She whimpered, her face concealed by darkness. "I was lonely. I was scared."

I frowned. "No one has ever summoned me because they were scared."

"I'm sorry." She wiped her face.

"I-" My mouth closed. "Why are you outside? It's the winter. Return to your home where there will be a family to comfort your."

The girl shook her head. "Can't."

"Why not?" My words came out sharper than I had intended, and the girl shuffled nervously. "What prevents you from returning?"

"Don't have one. A family or a house." The girl sniffed again. "I'm sorry. You can go if you like."

To anyone else, I would have opened back a portal to Hell, leaving them to their misery. But not this one. Something compelled me to stay. "What happened, child?"

A sudden piercing sound was heard - a warning - and suddenly the girl whimpered again, jumping to her feet. I got a better look at her face: long nosed, black hair, with bright blue eyes. "They're here. The bad people and their bombs are here."

We sat just outside the city, and my shoulders dropped. Powerful beams of light searched the sky, and I knew what was going on. Being a demon meant existing outside of time and space, and that in turn meant they could arrive in any time or place possible.

Soon the sky would be ablaze, thanks to humanity's inability to get along. I looked down at the little girl, and held out my hand. "Stay here, little one," I said. "Sit with me. I will protect you, I vow it." I came and sat down with legs crossed. "Then tomorrow we shall see to it you are removed from the city."

The girl sat down next to me. "I don't think anyone knows I exist." She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "I don't think anyone cares anymore."

Awkwardly, I put my arm around her shoulders. "I know that you exist," I said warmly. "And that will be enough."

continued in replies

As I stared around the cold, dark room, my eyes came to rest on a small pile of blankets in a corner. “Hello?” I directed my question to the pile of blankets, having seen no other place where a human might be. I was so sick of being summoned by old men withering away in jail cells begging to be pardoned for their crimes, but it did bring me a sense of joy (I think that’s what the feeling is called) when I informed them that I did not have that power and I looked forward to their eternal torment soon.

“You came!” the pile replied in a small, quavering child-voice. I sighed. We had all had the same speech at “So You Want to Be a Demon”… if you get summoned by a child, scare them into behaving and leave. Sin doesn’t work the same way for them as it does for adults and that’s not our job, blah blah blah. That being said, I had never heard someone sound truly excited to see me before.

The pile seemed to shiver, and as I moved closer, I could see a small face, with tear streaks of clean skin on a grubby face. It was, I supposed, cute… in a small, dirty kind of way. “Why have you summoned me, human?” I stuck to the script. Better to play it safe.

“Before mommy went to live with the angels, she said that if I ever needed her, I should pray and she would send one of her angel friends to help me. I’ve been asking for a really long time,” the weak little voice said, barely speaking above a whisper “and I’m glad you came even though you don’t look like the pictures.” I really had to have a word with dispatch when I got back. This was the third time this week that we’d been sent to a call that was meant for the other side. “Do you know my mommy?” I could see the tears forming in the eyes that watched my form from a pale, gaunt face. “I do not know your mother. What do you need from me, little one?” I might as well stay. At least I wouldn’t have to go answer that serial killer (again) if I was busy. “Mommy told me that the was a bad place where I would go if I was bad. She said that when she went on her trip to the angels that I should be the best for auntie and uncle or else so might go to the bad place. She said it was full of fire and it was where all of the bad people go instead of to the angels.” Well, that explained the crying. The mother was dead, and I could not give the child a contact or even a reassurance that “mommy” was with the angels. Maybe I could still finish the job and make it back before lunch… “I am from the bad place” I started “and you should be good for your auntie and uncle because your mommy said to.” There, finished. Now I just had to wait for my “return” button to appear and I could be done.

“But,” more tears, the child was absolutely sobbing now, blankets quivering with each fresh gush of tears “but what if I was only doing a very bad thing because auntie and uncle told me to? Does that mean that I still have to go to the bad place? I want to see my mommy!” This one was going to take a while.

As I sank to the floor in front of the blankets, I heard a loud thud from above us, followed by a clank and a clang. As I listened more intently I could hear voices. “It’s time for that worthless kid to learn to do what I want, when I want! Your disgusting sister had to go and dump it on us to feed and clothe.” More thuds, “… time to earn something for us.” As I turned back to the blankets, to my surprise, the child had seemingly disappeared. The blankets were still shivering slightly, and if I sniffed, I could smell the damp, decay, and urine that wafted up from them. “You should hide too. He might hurt you” came a vey faint whisper, thick with tears and fear. “Don’t hide with me. He always finds me.”

As I heard the clicking of seven locks being undone with a key, I discovered that I could still feel rage, fear, and sadness. As heavy boots descended the stairs, accompanied by the sound of metal, I shifted and merged into the blanket pile, giving the child as much warmth as I could. “Get out here, you disgusting pig. I can smell your stink from here” came a voice that far crueler than any of the murderers, serial killers, and other sickos that I’d dealt with so far. “You know it’s time for your lessons.” As a hand reached into the blanket pile, through me and grabbed the crying child by the arm, I saw the hope fade from the terrified eyes.

“Bye angel” came a tiny whisper, as the man hauled the tiny body up and away from our cover.

As it felt itself be summoned it rejoiced to itself. Finally. After dozens of decades of being trapped, finally it is free. All it needs to do is make a deal with it's summoner. Maybe it'll just kill them and be done with it. It hasn't killed in a while. First though, it'll hear them out. If only for the amusment of the request.

It let the pull of the summoning drag it out of it's trap. Opening its eyes, it took a second for the condensed shadow of its natural form to shape into what it wished to appear as to it's summoner. It decided on a vaguely human shape with tendrils of shadow on it's back and the entire form dripping with liquid shadow. Once its form was shaped, it let the excess shadow dissipate into the corners of the room. Now being able to see clearly, it looked around.

It was in the middle of a summoning circle, no suprise there, but the circle was very crudely drawn. It was actually a bit offended with the lack of care but ignored it....for now. Taking in the room, if it were to describe it in one word it would be: 'ancient'. The room was practically crumbling in on itself. It looked like the slightest breeze would knock it over. Nevertheless it stood, unsteady as it was. At first it didn't see it's summoner. It probably would have completely missed them if they weren't outlined by thier magic (a spell they put on themselves centuries ago to clear up confusion and not give out free deals).

The child was huddled in one of the darkest corners, a dark and very worn blanket covering thier form to further help them blend in. The demon turned to face the child and spoke in a slightly softer tone than it normally would. "Hello, child. Do you know who I am?" Its always good to ask so it can get a gage on the knowledge of it's summoner. The child stared at it with big eyes, head tilted downward in a fearful and submissive posture. Teartrscks still drying on its cheeks. It slowly shook its head, eyes never leaving the demon. The demon softly introduced itself.

"I am Dol'garen, high demon lord of shadow and fear." It nodded its head to the child in a respectful almost-bow. "If I may ask, child: Why did you summon me?" The child was quiet for a bit, only thier eyes seen from under the blanket-huddle they were curled into. The demon decided to take a different approach. It crouched down to be a bit more towards the child's level, lowering it's shadow tendrils to not look as big. "Child, if you want me to leave you alo-" It couldn't even finish it's sentence before the child jerked its head up to stare fully at the demon with a terrified expression.

That gave it pause. It paused long enough to take in the appearance of the child. It was dirty and unhealthy pale. There were a few half-healed cuts and bruises scattered across its face and neck. It guessed there were more around the rest of it's body. The demon slowly spoke again. "Ohhhkkaayyy....you dont want to be left alone. Did you just want company, child?" It guessed. The child relaxed a bit at the comment of it not leaving then looked to the ground as they shook thier head. The demon sighed softly, trying not to let thier rising annoyance show.

"Then what do you want, child?" The child was quiet for a bit longer before it muttered something. Even with the demon's sharp hearing, it couldn't make out what it said. "Could you repeat that, child?" The kid shifted a tad under the blanket before repeating themself, a tad louder then before.

".....daddy......" The demon was confused for a second. "What about your father? Do you want him gone? To care for you more? Care for you less? Be nicer? Be around more?" The child shook its head and looked back up at the demon, this time looking straight into its eyes (a dangerous move if it weren't a child with this particular demon). It then repeated itself while looking straight at it. "Daddy." The demon took a bit to figure that out before it's eyes (or at least the part of it's form it made to look like eyes) blew wide in suprise.

"Me?" The child perked up a bit and nodded before repeating itself, more firmly. "Daddy." The demon shot upright again. "No, no. I'm not your father, child. What happened to your actual father? Your mother? A guardian of some kind?" The child shood its head. "No fa-fa. No ma-ma." It then looked at the demon with a slight furrow to its tiny brow. It let the blanket fall to point at the demon, showing off more of its cuts and bruises and even a few burns here and there. "You. Daddy." The demon just stared at the child. Said child took that silence to continue as best it can. "You daddy. Daddy stay wif me. Iff daddy go, me go wif daddy. Daddy no leave me's." The demon took a second or two longer to stare, then chuckled to itself.

"There isn't any talking you out of this, is there?" The child perked up and shook its head. The demon sighed again. "Fine." It then pointed at the child. "But if we are going to do this, we are going to do it properly." It said sternly. The child only beamed at the demon. "Now come over here and let me out of this circle, child." The child got up and waddled over with no hesitation, crouching down and rubbing the dirt to break the seal on the circle. The demon took the two steps to close the distance between the two and picked up the young human. The child didn't resist in the slightest, looking as happy as a clam.

"Now. If you want me as a father, we'll have to get a few things for the spell to properly tie us as family." The demon said as it strode out of the room, child snuggled into it's chest happily. The demon would never admit it to anyone, not even the child themself, but it finally understood what past summoner have described as 'joy'.

As they left, the shadows reached from the corners of the room to erase any trace of the summoning and the release of the powerful demon lord. The ancient book used to summon the demon was taken to the demon lord's realm so no other mortal could freely wield such power. As the shadows retreated back again, room was left as empty and unremarkable as it was before the child found it. No one would know what has transpired here. Even if they found out, the watchful shadows would make sure they never tell of what they discovered. For the shadows' master was finally happy after it's centuries of depressive numbness and no one would take that away from it. Not while there is still light to cast the shadow that serves High Demon Lord Dol'garen.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.