So, I want to start with I've been particularly angry and busy these past few weeks. I'm lucky right now if I get one day off a week and during one of those days off, while I was stewing in my rage, I said to myself, "Self, if only we could summon a crossroads demon." And this came of that.
The person who this story is from the POV of is me, or at least a fictional version of me. The version of me I would like to be. Richer and better looking... the usual crap. But this would be me making a deal with a demon, snark and all.
Crossroads
I stood at a crossroads.
Sounds clichéd, right? I know. You hear it all the time in these pansy ass novels about coming of age for teenagers, or something to do with love triangles. Blah, blah, blah. But the point here, is that I was standing at a crossroads. Literally. Like, I was standing at the intersection of two roads out in the country. Perfect place to summon a demon. Hey, don't judge me, and don't think I don't know your judging me. You're practically a Baptist, I can feel the judgement rolling off of you.
Anyway, the moon was high, hiding behind dark and menacing clouds, because... well, why not? That's how these things usually go, right? But that's not the point. The point is, I was about to summon a demon. I know it's hard to tell, but I'm actually shaking from nerves. But I had come this far, so I was going through with it.
Taking a deep breath in a last-ditch effort calm myself down, I threw the last piece needed into the little wooden box: my old driver's licence. I closed the lid and placed the box in the hole I had dug in the center of the crossroads. Believe it or not, finding a dirt crossroads now-a-days was harder than it sounded. You had to go out to the boonies. But I had found one,and now I was kicking the soil over the box, ready to make a deal with one of the things I had been told lurked in the shadows. The things that hide in the closet and under the bed, waiting to snatch me away from my parents if I misbehaved. It's funny to think about what my family would say now.
Stepping back from the freshly disturbed soil, I pulled the crumpled back of cigarettes from my pocket and pulled out one of my last ones. I know, I know, smoking is a disgusting habit, and in my defense, I only have one once in a while. But in stressful times, I always feel that itch. I'm pretty sure this counted.
I turned my back to the crossroads, away from the breeze blowing my way and hunched over the match I struck and held in my cupped hands. I slowly brought it closer and lit the cigarette, taking a deep breath of nicotine and carbon monoxide. I had barely finished waving out the match and exhaling my first breath when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. Whirling around, I saw a dark-haired and stubbled man in a black suit standing in the center of the crossroads, right above where I'd planted the box.
"Oh, thank God." I mumbled under my breath after having looked him over.
"Not usually the reaction I get." the man spoke, his voice gravelly and deep with some sort of British accent. Soothing, that's what his voice was. The kind of voice that could lull you to sleep even while he was prying your soul out of your body. It was a fitting voice for a demon.
"It's just..." I fumbled over my words, taking another puff of my cigarette to calm my nerves. "The way I heard these things usually go down, it's almost always some big-breasted bimbo in a too-tight dress making the deal."
"Oh, and it usually is." the man's eyes flashed red, revealing his demonic nature before returning to an almost black color. "But my girls are stretched thin enough as it is."
"Your girls?" I couldn't help but ask.
"King of the Crossroads." the man - I'm sorry, the demon said, spreading his arms to verify that he meant himself. "Sometimes its best if the people up top stoop down to do the dirty work as well. I wouldn't want an uprising on my hand."
"You, know, a psychiatrist my diagnose you with some form of paranoia." I pointed out.
"Ah, psychiatry. I miss the day when psychiatry was all exorcisms and leeches." He sighed fondly. "I miss the leeches." Shaking his head to read him of memories of better days, he once again fixed me with those dark eyes.
"So, should I call you 'Your Highness' or 'Your Majesty?'" I asked.
"Crowley is fine."
"Crowley?" I couldn't help the incredulity in my voice. "Like from Good Omens?"
"Well, let's be fair, luv." Crowley offered, quirking up one corner of his mouth in a devilish smirk. "I was around before that book."
"So the character was based on you?" I could help but ask. Curiosity was always one of my greatest weaknesses.
"Enough about me." Crowley avoided the question. "We're here to talk about you."
"Fair enough." I conceded, taking another drag from the cigarette. "So, how does this usually work?" I exhaled a cloud of smoke.
"Well, pathetic little humans, such as yourself," he gestured toward me. "Go to a crossroads and summon a Crossroads Demon. Then you ask for your greatest wish. Wealth, fame, women." He cast me a side-eye and smirk. "Or men. We explain the rules and then seal the deal." I quirked an eyebrow.
"That's it?"
"That's it." Crowley answered, still standing in the center of the crossroads. "But you're a tricky one." His eyes roved over my body from head to toe and back up again, assessing me. I suppressed the urge to shiver, though I couldn't stop the intense beating in my chest. But I was used to that by now. My heart had been beating like that since Crowley showed up.
"How so?" I asked.
"Not to boast, but I can usually tell what someone wants when they summon us." Crowley practically preened as he "didn't boast" over his abilities.
"But not with me?"
"No." The smile disappeared and the assessing look came back. "Obviously you're not after looks or muscle." He waved a hand idly toward my t-shirt, which was a bit tighter than it could have been, revealing my hard-earned muscles. "You clearly hit the gym more than twice a week." This time it was me that preened. Didn't matter that the person standing in front of me was more of an "it" than a "he." A compliment was a compliment, and if there was anything my grandparents taught me, it was to accept a compliment gracefully and with humility, which is why, of course, I puffed out my chest. Crowley continued. "And judging my the name brands on your clothes, not to mention the ride, you don't need money." His hand waved from my clothes (Armani Exchange) to my car (a vintage red Corvette convertible... my baby.) "So what is it? Love." He didn't even attempt to keep the contempt out of his voice just as I didn't even attempt to stop my snort.
"Love is for children." I replied, the cigarette burning slowly between my fingers. It was his turn to snort.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-five."
"You are a child." He scoffed.
"But not delusional." I shot back.
"So let's cut to the chase then." the demon plowed forward. "What can I get for you?"
"Power," was my one-word reply. His eyebrows hiked up. "I dabble in the Craft, but I don't have near the power some witches have."
"I think you may have summoned the wrong demon." Crowley offered. "As much as I hate turning down a sale, you might want to contact a different type of demon."
"No, I'm not going to pray to some pansy-ass demon still toting the black eyes" The eyebrows rose again. I'm beginning to think that's his 'surprised face.' I also have a problem with signing over my soul to someone who can take it anytime they wish. Dealing with a Crossroads Demon comes with a time-frame."
"Someone did his homework." Crowley sounded impressed. I shrugged my shoulders, attempting to look sheepish. "Okay, you have my attention."
"I want power." I reiterated. "Not just in terms of magic. I want actual power. Enough to get away with anything."
"Anything specific?" The demon smirked. I kept my face as blank as I could manage. "Murder, perhaps?" When I didn't say anything his grin grew wider. "Ah, I'm beginning to see now. Someone didn't return your affections and now you've got the mindset of 'If I can't have them, no one will.' Murder's a bit extreme but I like how you think."
"You're close but not quite on the mark." I replied. "I've recently found several people pissing me off a bit more than usual and I figure, the world could use a few less people."
"Power it is then." Crowley agreed. "So, let's seal this deal. I've got a bank-owner to deal with in a few."
"Hold on, precious." I interrupted. "I have a few questions and conditions. If I'm going to end up in Hell, it'll be for something more than just selling my soul to a demon in a tacky suit."
The demon narrowed his eyes at the insult before speaking. "Fire away, sport."
"How long do I have?" I asked, having heard the time limit on these deals but wanting confirmation.
"Ten years." Crowley stated simply.
"That's not really acceptable." I stated, taking another drag of my almost out cigarette, stepping closer to the demon and off to the side, circling him. "I'll settle for twenty." Crowley's laugh was more of a bray than anything else, and he didn't hold back. His laughter echoed off the trees around us. When I didn't smile or laugh he tried to slow his own laughter.
"Oh, you're serious?" Crowley stated more than asked. "I'm sorry kid, but that's not how this works. Ten years, take it or leave it."
"Oh, I think you'll come around to my way of thinking." I faced him, boots rooted in the ground, trying to look intimidating. He didn't laugh in my face this time, but he did crack a feral smile.
"You little insect." He practically growled. "I could crush -" He went to take a threatening step toward me and found that he couldn't move. When he realized he couldn't even move backward, he cast his gaze around at the ground, looking for some sign of what was immobilizing him. When his gaze found mine again, I turned my gaze upward, toward the trees above. His eyes followed to see a Devil's Trap in the branches, each section on a different tree so that the only way it would work is if you were standing directly beneath its center.
"That took me two hours to set up so that it was just right." I informed him. "But never let it be said that I don't do my homework." I didn't try to hide the smirk that broke through my tough-guy façade.
"And let it never be said that I don't come without backup." the King of the Crossroads retorted, raising his hand and snapping his fingers. Instantly, I heard several deep and menacing growls from behind me. The kind of growls that a tiger would turn tail and run from. Hellhounds. The servants of Crossroads Demons and the ones that drag their clients to hell when their contracts run out. Taking a last drag of my cigarette, I raised both hands in surrender. "So, I believe you were about to let me out." The demon menaced. I let the burning end of the cigarette fall from my fingers and to the ground. The moment it hit the ground, the oils and other liquids I'd laid out earlier lit up. Blue flames quickly spread around, zigzagging in various directions and circling around myself and the demons several times. When all the lines were connected, we stood in a burning version of the Grand Pentacle from the Key of Solomon. Behind me I heard the whining yelps of the hellhounds as they were consumed by the flames and the spells laid into the ground.
"I also do the extra credit." I commented. Crowley stood speechless, staring at the burning husks of his hounds, even though I couldn't see what exactly was burning.
"How?" Was all he asked, not taking his gaze off of the dead beasts.
"Holy Oil from Jerusalem." I informed him. "Expensive as hell. I had to max out my credit card to get it." I stuck my hands into my jeans pockets and half-turned to gaze at the flames rising off of the invisible creatures. "I hope you appreciate the lengths I've gone to for this." When I turned back to look at the demon, I found I had his undivided attention as he studied me.
"You'll make a fine demon one day." he commented.
"I'll take that as a compliment." I was confused but was trying to roll with this.
"It was meant as one." the demon confirmed. "But the ten years isn't negotiable."
"Well I'm negotiating it." I countered. We stared at each other for a few minutes before he spoke again.
"Twelve years." he offered.
"Twenty." I stuck to my guns but he just shook his head.
"It's too much." He argued. "No demon would grant that many years." I considered his words.
"Eighteen?"
"Thirteen." He haggled. Another minute passed and the flames sputtered in the breeze but didn't go out.
"Fifteen." I settled on. Crowley opened his mouth to retort before he closed it again, considering my offer.
"Acceptable." He conceded. "But don't go bragging about this. Otherwise everyone will want to haggle."
"My lips are sealed." I said around my smile, happy that I'd won.
"So, are you going to let me out?" Crowley asked.
"Not yet," I said. "I have two more conditions." His eyes narrowed again. "First of all. I don't want to die."
"I think you're missing the point of making a deal with a demon." Crowley commented dryly.
"No, dumbass." I shot back. "I mean, I don't want to die before my contract's up. That means no 'accidents' or anything before my time is up." I pointed out. "No murder attempts, no disease, nothing." He opened his mouth to shoot me down but I plowed on. "And in that same breath, if I try to weasel my way out of our deal, contract is terminated and you can take me immediately." Crowley's mouth snapped closed as he considered the latest stipulation. Eventually he nodded in agreement.
"And the last thing?" He asked, his voice approaching venomous.
"No attempting to hurt or kill me when I let you out of the trap." I concluded. He smirked at that one.
"Covering your bases." He nodded in approval. "I appreciate someone who thinks ahead." The King of the Crossroads took a deep, and probably unnecessary breath. "You're terms are acceptable. We have a deal." I didn't stop the smile that blossomed on my face.
"Great!" I couldn't help my excitement. "So... how do we seal this?" I paused and felt my smile slipping. "The books were all kinda hazy on that. Do we shake hands, or sign something?" Instead of a verbal answer, I got a kiss in response. And boy, what a kiss. All tongue and teeth and stubble-burn. I loved it! After what felt like an eternity, yet also felt way too quick, Crowley pulled back. It took me a few extra seconds to blink my way through the haze, only to see an entirely too-smug demon standing before me.
"So, are you going to let me out, pet?" He asked, way-too-pleased with himself.
"Um... yeah." It took me few more seconds to reply as I tried to pull all my senses together. "I have my power now, right?"
"Finger's on the trigger." Crowley confirmed. Stepping back from the demon, I looked at the still burning oil around me and jerked my hand sharply in a sweeping gesture. All the flames blew out as if by a strong gust of wind. Like, hurricane strong. Turning my back on the demon completely, I raised my hand toward one of the trees planted at the corners of the crossroads and crushed my fingers into a fist. The branch that reached out above and over me, and also happened to carry part of the Devil's Trap snapped off the trunk of the tree and fell, getting tangled in the other branches and breaking the trap. Smiling at my new power, I turned around to... I guess thank the demon, only to find that he was no longer there.
"That must be what Commissioner Gordon feels like." I mumbled to myself before turning toward my car and making my way over, walking around the scorch marks in the gravel and grass that indicated where the hellhounds had died. Flexing my new metaphysical muscle, the car roared to life and the driver's side door opened as I approached, allowing me to slide easily into the leather seats before putting my hands on the wheel and peeling off down the gravel road.
Time to find out just how much power I had.
As I stated above, the person making the deal with Crowley is yours truly, and all forms of sarcasm and snark are me. I breathe sarcasm. It's like my native language.