Sharon smiled down at her son as she watched him sleeping, with the Satanic Bible having fallen to the floor as he fell asleep. Harry woke up as she was stroking his hair.
"Mom?" he muttered confused, not remembering falling asleep.
"Remember to take everything you read with a pinch of scepticism, kid. LaVey is a great guy, but he refuses to believe in your dad's existence," she explained, which made Harry laugh as he remembered how he'd been to the zoo with Satan just some few days earlier, so he clearly did exist.
Harry smiled up at his mother, still half asleep. He remembered how his father had a good laugh at that fact. LaVey would find out when he died anyway, Harry thought. What he wouldn't give to watch THAT meeting. Harry snickered to himself.
"Alright, kiddo. Splash some water on that tired face and come to join the family for dinner. Your dad wanted to see you afterwards, he had something important to talk to you about, apparently. Called it a 'Father-Son' thing," Sharon huffed. She didn't like it when Satan was keeping secrets from her. Perhaps because his secrets always seemed to involve other women. Although she couldn't for the life of her fathom how THAT topic would be included in a conversation with his son, so she decided to let it slide. Maybe it was some kind of guy thing.
Harry placed the Satanic Bible on the bedside table and stumbled into the new adjourning bathroom the family had gotten set up in his attic. There was still some mess lying about in a corner, but for the most part, this was utterly Harry's room now, and it brought a smile to his lips whenever he thought about it.
'Mine,' he thought possessively.
He'd never had something that was all his before, and every time he had gotten anything from someone else, it was always taken away from him. Usually by his baby whale of a cousin. The more he thought about his former life, the angrier he felt these days.
Before he had come to this new, wonderful family, he hadn't fully understood just how bad the Dursley's were treating him, but now that he had something to compare it with, he could look back at it with righteous fury at their treatment of him.
And as his self-esteem grew, nurtured by the slowly increasing trust that these people ACTUALLY cared about him, that he was WORTHY of love. Combined with the new Satanic values that he kept picking up from everyone around him, he felt a more profound and deeper need to take revenge on them! His eyes glanced over at the Necronomicon at the bedside table, and he smirked. If that thing REALLY worked...oh, what fun he could have!
His family smiled at the dark, evil grin Harry had on his face when he entered the kitchen. They were happy to see that he was learning their ways fast. It certainly did help that nobody had taught him any morals, other than 'everything you do is wrong', which made it easier for their new family member to cast aside everything he had learned, as soon as they managed to teach him that it was the Dursley's who were wrong, and not him.
Harry had taken to Satanism like a fish to water. Much helped by Benny and his surprisingly extensive collection of Satanic music. A lot of it was quite catchy, and Harry had even begged his mom to buy him a poster of Eddy, the mascot of Iron Maiden. For some reason, he just adored their monstrous mascot. Sharon blamed it on Mavis and her penance for classical literature, which included reading Frankenstein to him as a bedtime story. Not that she minded much, she was currently reading him H.P. Lovecraft classics. And she was immensely proud of him for only coming running into her room after that thunderstorm. In retrospect, it might not have been the best book to read for children.
When Harry woke up the next day, his first thought was to head down to the local bookstore and see if they had gotten in some new Lovecraft books. He had been terribly disappointed when it turned out that they had nothing on anything magic, and the store clerk, who found it adorable that the kid still believed in magic, told him he had to go into London to find any books on magic. Apparently, London had everything. But she couldn't tell Harry exactly where. Instead, she suggested that he looked it up on the net, which Harry figured he could always do. Maybe Benny knew these things better, come to think of it.
Harry did, however, manage to find a book in the used section that looked more like it had been home-printed than factory made, which in itself made it fascinating.
"Creepypasta Stories..." Harry read, and flipped through it. It was filled with interesting characters, with strange names like 'Laughing Jack' and 'Jeff, the Killer'. Harry decided that it was totally worth spending a few pounds to buy it. Harry walked out of the store a few pounds lighter, but quite happy, as he made his way back home.
Just as Harry was about to reach his house, he watched as two preachy looking young adults push open the white pickled fence gates and ring the doorbell. He sighed. They were so clearly Jehovah's Witnesses. Harry really didn't understand why those happy-happy morons kept trying to convince his family to join the rest of the sheep in their backwards, mindless 'bliss' of bending over backwards to serve some asshole in the sky that didn't even bother to pay attention to their prayers, much less help anyone. He glared at them as his grandpa opened the door and listened to them spew their nonsense about eternal love if you just bent over and let their asshole deity fuck you over while you ran around working like a slave for a vague chance of going to an incredibly dull place when you died. Okay... They might not have worded it quite that way, but that was what they were saying, really.
But before his grandpa could reply, an incredibly long, inhumanly and slightly monstrous...tongue launched out and pulled them in, making Harry jump back in shock, before laughing his ass off as Fido spit out their skulls on the front lawn. Well...those two indeed wouldn't cause problems for them anymore he thought and picked up one of the skulls as he walked in, tossing the other one down to Fido, so he had something to play with, even if he couldn't properly digest it.
"Yuck! You drooled all over it, Fido!" Harry grimaced at the skull. "I better wash this before putting it on my shell. Grandpa! Where's the dish-washing soap?!" Harry yelled at his grandfather.
His grandfather chuckled and picked the bottle off the bench in the kitchen, before telling him that his mother wanted to speak with him in the ritual room. Apparently, his father had gotten him some kind of belated birthday gift.
It was getting close to bedtime, and Harry was laying on his bed, playing with the new mobile phone he had gotten from his dad. His father knew something about his biological parents that required him to have the number to a damned good lawyer, and strict orders to call him if anyone tried to use any legal means against him, as well as a pentagram necklace he could use to summon his dad with.
Harry wondered what was so bad about his biological parents that it garnered that kind of protective measures, but then Satan showed him how to download games, and Harry forgot all about his questions in favour of shooting pixelated zombies.
By the time it was almost midnight, his mother had to pry the phone out of his hands and read him several chapters of The Dunwich Horror before Harry finally gave in to his tiredness and went to sleep.
Sharon smiled and stroked his hair, before tucking him in, making sure his new phone was out of reach on a shelf, and Harry firmly asleep.
While she had sighed exasperated at how much Satan seemed to spoil his new son, to make up for never really being there for him, being in charge of Hell and all... She was secretly pleased that he had gotten Harry a mobile phone and proceeded to input the phone number to everyone in the family, as well as the necessary emergency numbers. She did feel a lot safer when she knew that she could call Harry whenever he went outside to play and that he could contact her easily enough if he ever got in trouble.
She was far less happy to see the number of Satan's son with that damned slut he had seduced before he met Sharon, but she had to admit he was the best-damned lawyer money could buy. Plus... The woman was an old hag now anyway, and Sharon was a million times prettier than her!
The next morning when Harry woke up, he had decided enough was enough. After tossing and turning half the night from nightmares, and only the light from the lamppost outside his window made him stop fearing that he was back in his cupboard again, enough was enough. Harry refused to let his fear of his aunt, uncle and the wale of a cousin scare him anymore! He was going to get strong! And then he was going to make them regret every single punch, every bruised arm, every burn from making him cook, every single time he went hungry... ooooh, they would PAY!
Harry pushed himself off the bed and walked over to his bookshelf, grabbing the book about Dark Magic that his father had given him. He grimaced at how small the practices and spell in the book was. He knew he was a beginner and hadn't really done this before, but there HAD to be a better way... His eyes caught a glimpse of the Necronomicon and grinned darkly. He grabbed a notebook and a pen and started to flip through the book, looking for just the right creature to summon.
He might not be the most powerful magician in the world just yet, but he was sure you didn't need all that much power and skills just to summon someone. The trick was to call someone or something that DID have that power!
It might not be something that any magic school taught, and if asked, most wizards would claim it was impossible, and that those creatures could not possibly exist. After all, it was just muggle fiction, right? But wizards tended to forget the ONE rule of life; The key to success is to not know that what you're trying to do can't be done. That went double with magic in the picture.
That was how his mom found him, several hours later when Harry still hadn't shown up for breakfast. Pieces of paper with childish handwriting and drawings of strange symbols littered the room and the walls. And Harry was writing like his life depended on it, looking more like a mad scientist than a young child. She sighed but couldn't help but smile at his childish antics. She decided to let him have his fun with whatever he was researching and went back downstairs to get him some toast with an egg on it, and some of his favourite black pudding. She was not about to let him go hungry just because he was obsessing over his new toys after all.
"Come on, sweetie," Sharon said as she pushed the still untouched plate in front of Harry. "Ya gotta eat somethin'."
Harry glared at her through his bangs and huffily blew the hair out of his face. Long hair looked totally awesome in the music videos his uncle had shown him, but it was annoying as hell sometimes. Sharon chuckled and pushed the hair out of his face and behind his ears. Harry stared defiantly at her while he grabbed a slice of black pudding and munched on it, before washing it down with some water.
"There! I've eaten!" he growled and went back to his obsessive reading and note-taking, the floor slowly starting to fill up with crumpled up mis-drawings and discarded notes. Sharon sighed and got off the bed.
"Alright, sweetie. But if you ain't down by dinner, I'll come to drag ya down, you hear?" She gave him her best motherly glare, which was destroyed by her slightly upturn mouth before she walked back out and closed the door to his room, shaking her head in amusement.
"Oh, hey, Derek." She said, noticing her brother was headed for Harry's room. "I wouldn't disturb him right now, alright? He's obsessing like the devil over those Cthulhu stories," she told him, and Derek stared sadly down at the book in his hand as he staggered away. "Kids!" Sharon muttered to herself and laughed, shaking her head again. He must have been excited to show her new son that new book he was reading on.
Sharon decided she should just go get the shopping over and done with, and let kids be kids. At least until dinnertime.
It had taken him almost a week's worth of studying, and nearly half another week to beg, trick, and when all else failed, steal, everything he needed for the big summoning ritual, but Harry was now finally ready! All he needed was to wait for the witching hour to come so he could get started.
In the ,meanwhile, he scribbled a sign on the door so nobody would disturb him, and popped in Bitter Suite for Succubi by Cradle of Filth, and pushed his cd player close up to the window. For some reason, he didn't think their neighbour would look too favourably upon their cat going missing, and then hear it scream as he tied it down and sacrificed it to Yog-Sothoth. But with Cradle of Filth screeching in the background, he felt confident that the wailing of a cat wouldn't stand out too much from the rest of the music.
Harry was currently drawing up the last symbols to open the gate and summon an eldritch horror, while mentally preparing himself to kill the slightly chubby neighbour's cat. In honesty, he felt a bit queasy at the prospect of killing, even just a cat, but he kept his focus on his goal, and every now and then quoted his latest hero; Darth Bane, steeling himself.
'There is nothing wrong with killing someone for your own gains,' he thought.
The strong would survive, and the weak would perish. It was a law of nature. They even said so on those nature shows on the telly. He was well within his right to do this, as he was CLEARLY stronger than the cat! He got irritated at himself for his hesitation to do so. The Dursleys DESERVED to suffer! And now HE was the one who was strong, not them! He had EVERY right to take revenge and make them regret mistreating him! He nodded decisively to himself and set to work, as his new cell phone rang out the alarm, telling him it was time.
After changing his usual red robe to a black one, pulling the hood over his head and raising his hands, Harry stepped inside the circle started to chant.
"Zazii, Zamaii, Puidmon the Powerful, Sedon the Strong, El, Yod, He, Vau, He, Iah, Agla, protect me and help me when I summon the Gate!"
At this point, Harry made sure to light the incense and the black candles he had set up.
"No evil may approach from the North!
No evil may approach from the East!
No evil may approach from the South!
No evil may approach from the West!
No evil may approach from Zenith!
No evil may approach from Nadir!"
Harry made sure to bow towards the appropriate directions at each line he spoke.
"The Flaming Circle locks everything in!
Draba, draba, kalta, kalta, entemoss!
The Flaming Circle locks everything out!
Draba, draba, kalta, kalta, entemoss!
Accar, Zour and Maroud!
Lock the circle and let no evil pass through!
Draba, draba, kalta, kalta, entemoss!"
Harry walked around the circle, holding sage incense in one hand, and a fan he used to fan the smoke within the other.
Per Adonai Elohim, Adonai Jehovah Adonai Sabaoth, Metraton Ou Agla Methon, Verbum Pythonicum, Mysterium SalamandraeCenventus Sylvorum, Antra GnomorumDemonia Coeli God, Almonsin GiborJehoshua Evam Zariathnatmik, Veni, Veni, Veni!
Harry raised his hands above his head, placing his thumbs and forefingers together to create a triangle, before turning his right hand down, to turn half the triangle on its head. And then he followed it with his left hand, ensuring he was now creating the triangle upside-down. Afterwards, he turned the triangle the right way up and placed it on his forehead. Then he began chanting again.
"Hear me! King of Infinite Space! Planetmover! The Foundation of Fastness! Ruler of Earthquakes! The Vanquisher of Terror! The Creator of Panic! Destroyer! The Shining Victor! Son of Chaos and the Void! The Guardian of the Abyss! God of the Outermost Darkness! Lord of Dimensions! Riddle-knower! Guardian of The Secrets! Lord of the Labyrinth! Master of the Angles! God of the Whiporwills! Omega point! Lord of the Gate! The opener of the Way! The Oldest! All-in-One! The One by Life Prolonged! Umr At-Tawil! Iak-Sathath! YOG-SOTHOTH NAFL'FTHAGN! Your servant call upon you!"
Harry picked a staff he had created up from the ground and drew a line from right to left, then from above his head and down, and last from the front to behind him. Twisting it, he focused all his magic, visualising how it was pointing into the Fourth Dimension, perpendicular to the other directions. Slowly an eight-rayed star started to shine where he pointed. Must be the star of Chaos the book had described he thought gleefully. It was working! Now he could finally begin opening the Gate!
Clasping the staff with both hands, he held it out horizontally as he started to chant.
"Yog-Sothoth knows the Gate. Yog-Sothoth is the Gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the Gate. Past, Present and Future, all is one in Yog-Sothoth. By that which is not to be named. By Azathoth. By Nyarlathotep. By Shub-Niggurath. By the two snakes. By that which created the Voids. By Kadath in the Cold Waste. By the Plateau of Leng. By Yuggoth. By the moon-lens. By the imprisoned. By the free. By Samas, Gibil and Nusuku. By the High Name of Ea. By the Seven Demons.
Guardian, let the Gate be opened!
By Chaos. By the Void. By the Light. By the Darkness. By the Air. By the Fire. By the Water. By the Earth.
Key, open the Gate!
By my sacred oath.
Let those who want to leave come out! Let those who wish to enter come in! Let us see into the Hiding Light! Let us see into the Blinding Darkness! Rend the Veil! Crush the Mirror! Reveal the Illusion! See, the Gate opens!"
Harry slowly twisted the staff into an upright position, tearing into the very fabric of reality. As he was Rendering the Veil, he could see the air getting unclear, like heat-waves rising on a hot day. Invisible, yet apparently there. Reality twisting around him as he fought hard to keep turning the staff, focusing all his magic into his actions and words.
"See, the Nodes are filled with Power! See, the Lines are filled with Power! See, the Angles twist and open!"
There was a sound, like a scream or shattering of the very reality itself as he spoke the last words, and reality ripped open, and something was clawing its way out.
Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He stared at the Eldritch horror he had summoned. It stared back. It made a sound that would have been terrifying if it did not come from a creature that was approximately the size of his own shoes. It was...adorable! Harry hugged his little octopus-human-demon...thing. It squealed in joy, and its tiny tentacles tried to hug him back.
Well... It wasn't exactly the result he was hoping for, but Harry decided to count it as a success. And...maybe it would...grow.
"What do you eat anyway?"
It had taken several weeks, and quite a few additional spells and rituals, but the newly named Freddy (named after Eddie, the Iron Maiden mascot), had now reached a respectable enough size that the family told him he had to leave the house. The basement only had space for Fido after all. So, Harry decided to summon his dad and ask what he should do about him.
"Well, son..." Satan looked at the tentacle besotted vaguely humanoid creature with uncertainty. "I'm not sure he'd do particularly well in Hell. It's kinda dry, and he looks like he'd need water..." Satan pondered a bit longer. "Wait here!" He said, and vanished in a poof of smoke, only to re-appear a few moments later, with a pouch in his had.
"You have GOTTA teach me how to poof like that!" Harry said, and Satan couldn't help but smile and laugh at his eager son.
Oh, he hoped the kid would stand by Damien when the time came for the apocalypse. He realised he probably should begin to train Harry for that, just...one bit at the time. It would be a hard pill to swallow for any kid, but if he worked it the right way, he was sure his son and heir, Damien, would get the best helper he could ever have when the time for the apocalypse came.
"Here, kid. This is a magically expandable pouch. Don't ask me where I got it from, that guy's just..." Satan shuddered. "Anyway... It can hold a whole village in there. Literally. So he'll have plenty of space to roam around. And you can grab him at any given time."
"Thanks, dad!" Harry said excitedly, while Satan pulled out two video-games, named 'Lucien' and 'Lucien II'.
"And here, son. I wanted you to have these. I hope you'll learn something from them too, alright?" Satan said as he handed the games to his son. "Be creative Harry." Satan smiled as his son hugged him. Harry had only recently gotten his own pc, and he absolutely loved playing games.
"Thanks, dad! You're the best!" He said and ran out of the room to show his mom.
The next day, Harry was all packed and ready to go visit his former family. He changed into the jeans and grey hoodie that he had bought just for this occasion, as well as putting on his blue contacts. He briefly considered colouring his hair, but he decided he didn't see the point. There would be no evidence of their death left behind anyway, Freddy would see to that. Whistling he went downstairs, checking his wristwatch. It was just past 9pm, perfect. They'd open the door, but most people would be off the streets at this time of night, so there would be as few witnesses as possible. He didn't really stand out much from the average kids either, and in the dark, nobody would really notice his hair-colour much anyway. Brown and black hair were common here after all.
Harry carefully sneaked out the door and down the street, making sure to hide whenever there seemed like somebody might see him. It might not have been strictly necessary...it wasn't unusual to see a kid walking, presumably, home around this time...but Harry had watched enough crime shows by now to know that if you were going to kill someone, you had to be sneaky and make sure there were no witnesses. It was always the witnesses that told the cops you had been there, and that got you dragged down to the station. And then they tricked you into admitting what you had done, another thing Harry had learned from crime-shows on the telly; Deny, deny, deny. No matter how much they push or what they threaten with. He couldn't remember seeing a single bad-guy ending up in jail without confessing first. Maybe they couldn't send you to prison unless you admitted to the crime? Harry pondered that thought while silently sneaking past the hedge of number 4 Private Drive.
Now... How would he get in?