Dis

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I was desperate. This was the only thing I could think of to get me out of this mess. I looked around the attic. This had taken the very dregs of the money I could scrape together. If this didn’t work, I was sunk.

I took a breath. The book had to be right. I’d found it in the box of old cookery books that I’d hoped to flip. That hadn’t worked either. Everything I had tried had turned to dust. This was my last throw of the dice.

I looked around again. All the chalk marks were exactly as the book had shown. I had copied them again and again, just to be sure. The coloured candles were just as shown, the incense was correct, and I’d set it out exactly as specified.

I felt tension run through me. How bad was it to summon a demon? It wasn’t like I was going to worship it, I just needed to get out of this hole. I swallowed. What if I’d got it wrong, what if the demon controlled me? What if I was responsible for evil? All the books and films of evil being unleashed on the world ran through my mind. I ran through my mental checklist. No, I had followed the instructions to the letter. It had to be alright.

What would happen when the demon appeared? For a moment I almost forgot to breathe. I hadn’t thought of that. What was I supposed to do with a demon? Did they understand the stock exchange? Could they find buried treasure? I looked down at my notebook and my hands were shaking.

“What am I supposed to do when the demon comes?” I didn’t realise I had spoken out loud until I heard a step behind me. I whirled around. He was there. He made me think of some sort of aristocrat, tall and slim with finely carved features, piercing blue eyes and thick red hair, trimmed and combed away from his face. The shirt looked like silk and the jeans looked tailored. I swallowed. 

“I believe it is customary to offer a guest a drink, even if that guest has replied to a summons.” The smile was mocking and his eyes knowing. “You can call me Dis.”

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