A casual chatter and occasional laughter filled the room. The banquet hall was filled with people, all relatives gathered to celebrate the 25th wedding anniversary of Matt Bansing and his wife Evelyn. Michael stood a bit to the side with a glass of champagne in his hand and watched his parents talk with his grandmother of his mothers side. The cry of a baby caught his attention and he smiled when he noticed his little nephew had woken up and let his mother know how hungry he felt right now. His cousin was the first in their family to give birth to the next generation and he knew he wanted children of his own one day, but not yet. It was great to see all his uncles and aunts, cousins and grandparents again and he enjoyed being at this party.
None of these people knew what he did outside of college and maybe that was for the best. They would only be worried. Being a demon hunter wasn’t without risk, but he was good at it. He was one of the better agents of the organisation. What he lacked in physical strength, and compared to most other agents he really wasn’t strong, he made up for memorizing and performing the necessary rituals and spells.
The door opened and a figure dressed in a purple trenchcoat entered. His yellow skin and long white hair drew all the attention to him and the room became dead silent. The purple eyes moved around until they settled on the reason of his arrival.
“Michael,” the demon said. His voice was smooth and filled with determination, even if he hadn’t stated his business yet, it was clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer. His posture had a certain elegance to it, but showed a great confidence at the same time. The confidence of a powerful being who knew no-one in this room could match his strength.
“Xantier,” Michael whispered. He knew this demon only through books, he had never met him face to face. The yellow-skinned demon was one of the higher demons and from what he had heard, a dangerous one too. “Weren’t you banished?”
“Do you really think they could keep me locked away?” Xantier asked, his voice filled with disdain. He walked further into the room as if he owned the place and he kept his eyes focussed on Michael. These other humans were of no interest to him. “Let us get to the point of my visit,” Xantier continued calmly, “I’ve always wanted to have the soul of a strong spellcaster, so decided I want your soul, Michael.”
Michael tensed up. “And you think I would give it to you?” he asked as he moved his right hand towards the pocket of his jeans.
“Of course not,” Xantier said as he waved his hand in a dismissive way. He continued to walk over to Michael with an ominous smirk. “No human has ever given their soul freely, but that has never stopped me from obtaining them.”
As Michael reached into his pocket to get the charm he needed for a spell or a banishing ritual, Xantier lifted a hand and spoke a single word in a demonic language. The building shook violently and a red band came out of nowhere, curling around the people in the room within seconds. A chasm opened beneath their feet and flames burned vigorously in the bottom of the chasm. The heat coming from it was intense and the room glowed in an orange light. Michael looked at it, there was only one explanation as to why this demon was able to produce something this big with just one word: he had prepared the spell outside and this word was what completed it. If the demon would have started his spell here, he might have been able to stop it. His fingers folded around the charm and he pulled it from his pocket.
“Don’t do anything hasty now,” the demon hissed. “I have your family in my grasp. They are… how do you humans call it? My hostages. And I will offer a trade, you will sign my contract which will allow me to take your soul when you die and I won’t throw them into the fiery pits of hell.”
Michael looked at his relatives, he could see their fear and tears. Maybe he could save them. His hand gripped the charm more tightly and he opened his mouth.
“Do you really think,” Xantier spoke slowly, but with satisfaction in his voice, “that you will be able to complete your ritual before I release them? All I need is a snap of my fingers, so to speak. Be a good boy and drop your charm.”
Judging by the smirk, Xantier knew it would take longer than that, just as Michael knew that. For a brief moment he pondered if he should try anyway, this demon was dangerous and had to be banished. His relatives wouldn’t be the only victims. Then he heard his newborn nephew cry and his cousin trying to hush it while crying herself. They would all die. And if they did, who would he have left? But he’d have to give up his soul… but they would die… Could he really do this? But if he didn’t… He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “Okay,” he whispered as he dropped the charm. “I will sign your contract if you will let them live.”
“Good boy,” the demon said as if he talked to a dog. As he walked over to Michael, he opened the trenchcoat and retrieved a rolled-up scroll and a pen. “You know how it works. Sign it at the bottom and your soul will belong to me. After that I will let your family go.”
With a trembling hand, Michael took the pen and scroll and he opened it. The text was straightforward enough, it said the owner of the contract, Xantier, from now on owned his soul and could claim it when he died. He looked at his family once more and he could see one of his uncles shake his head, but what choice did he have? It was either this or his family. Xantier spoke the truth, there was nothing he could do before the demon would kill them all. He wrote his name at the bottom of the contract and gave it back to the yellow demon. What else could he do?
Xantier took it and looked at the name with a pleased smile, before he rolled it up and put it in his inner pocket again. The chasm closed and he theatrically snapped his fingers to remove the binding spell. With that done he looked at the boy in front of him. “Come,” he said to him. “We’re leaving to my realm.”
“What?” Michael’s head jerked up and he looked at the demon. “But that wasn’t…”
“Your soul belongs to me,” Xantier hissed as he leaned forward. “How can I own a soul if the vessel is not with me?” The smirk he showed was anything but pleasant. “You belong to me now, boy. Your soul and your body. You will serve me until it’s time for me to collect what you gave to me when you signed the contract.” He pointed to Michael’s relatives. “I can always throw them in the chasm if that’s what you prefer. What would I care about the lives of humans? Killing one of one hundred makes no difference, but I’m a demon of my word. Come with me and I will not harm them. It is as simple as that. All I want is you.”
Michael swallowed heavily, but lowered his head in acceptance. Selling his soul hadn’t been an easy decision, it was the most prized possession anyone had after all, but he had expected to be killed for it as soon as he had signed the paper. Instead, he had to serve the demon first. He couldn’t even begin to image what that would be like. He heard his father say his name and he looked up at him with grief and fear battling for a place in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could Xantier opened a portal and dragged him along.
~
The realm of the demons was dark and hot. Black clouds filled the sky almost all the time. Every once in a while a gap in the cloud revealed a large, red sun. Red lightning lit up the clouds and the land below every couple of seconds. A dry wind blew over the rocky ground and pits filled with boiling tar or molten rock filled the landscape. The trees that remained were all dead. Either they were scorched and brought down to a black trunk, clawing with it’s root in the rocky surface, or they had completely dried out and had a pale colour, as if they were turned to stone.
The higher demons, like Xantier, lived in castles. Some of those were built on high mountain tops, others in one of the dead forests. Lower demons either stayed in the open or lived in one of the many caves. Xantier’s castle was located in a valley between two mountain tops. The six small towers of the castle were build in a circle around the large main tower and every tower had a pointy roof. The walls had a dirty, dark-grey colour and aside from the gothic-themed arches they were unadorned. The large double doors seemed old but sturdy and they were big enough to let a giant into the castle. Even though they looked to be quite heavy, the demon opened them effortlessly and Michael stared into the castle.
“Come on,” Xantier said as he gave an impatient push in his back. Michael stumbled forward and stepped inside. The doors closed behind him with a loud bang and Michael wished they hadn’t. It sounded like there was no way back, that his stay here was definitive. “This way,” the demon said curtly as he passed Michael and went towards the door on the other end. Their footstep echoed through the empty hallway as Michael followed Xantier. The grey stone walls looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in ages.
The black door at the other side gave entrance to a circular room. In the middle was a winding stair-case leading into the main tower above them. Six straight stair-cases lead to a door which would give access to the six smaller towers. Two black statues stood between each of the six stairs, they were crafted in the image of demons, all higher demons as far as Michael recognized them.
“Onyx,” Xantier said as he saw Michael look at the statues. “They are made from onyx.” With a wide gesture of his arms he brought attention to the entire room. “This is the central hall. From here you can go to all the towers. I will show you the six towers first. After that we will go into the main tower and I will show you were you’ll sleep.”
Michael nodded, even though his approval would change nothing about the fact they were going to look at the towers. He wasn’t quite prepared for what he saw in those towers. The first tower had piles of gold and silver coins and items in it. He had no idea the demon was this wealthy, nor that earthly goods like this attracted him. The room in the second tower had piles of precious stones, each gem carefully sorted in their own pile. The third room had pig-like demons chained to the wall, Michael knew these were classed as lesser demons. When he asked why he kept those, Xantier explained they were for experiments and that he cared as little about these low demons as he cared about humans. Not one bit. The fourth room made Michael’s stomach turn, shelves filled the room and each shelf was filled with dried organs, shrunken heads and jars filled with organs and foetuses of both humans and lesser demons. The fluid seemed to keep them in perfect shape. The fifth room housed horribly deformed creatures to which Xantier explained they were failed experiments, but he hadn’t gotten rid of them yet as they still could serve their purpose. As the rooms had gradually worsened, Michael wasn’t too sure he wanted to see what was kept in the sixth tower, but not going with the demon wasn’t an option. The sixth room housed five humans without any clothes on. They stared ahead and walked around aimlessly.
“These are five somewhat successful reanimations of dead corpses,” Xantier explained. “At first I just disposed of the body or cut it up for parts when I claimed a soul. After a while I thought it would be nice to bring their bodies back to life and see if I could make those obey my wishes. The first attempts failed, but I was rather successful with these.” He looked at the walking corpses with a thoughtful expression on his face, while Michael stared horrified at them. “I hope to perfect the reanimation spell soon,” he said as he turned to his new pet. “When you’re dead and I have taken your soul, I will use your body too. Maybe I will be successful this time.” Michael couldn’t do anything but stare at the humans walking there, was that his fate? It seemed to get worse the longer he was with the demon. First he had signed the contract that would allow Xantier to take his eternal soul, then he learned he would have to serve him first and now he would be turned into this after his death?
Xantier took Michael with him again and brought him back to the central hall, before ascending the spiral stairs to the main tower. Halfway up the stairs was a door and Xantier stopped here. He informed Michael that the floor above this one was his private floor where he did his spells and rituals, nothing the boy needed to see. The demon opened the door and Michael stared at the room as they stepped through it. Unlike the rest of the castle, this room was beautiful. In the middle was an ornate king-size four-poster bed made from the dark wengé wood. The bright red silk sheets and pillows were in high contrast with the black wood, but it seemed to work for the demon. The white walls were decorated with golden patterns reaching all the way up to the dome-shaped ceiling. There was another door on the opposite side of the room, but Michael’s attention was caught by a set of chains hanging on one wall with a simple white mattress on the ground under them.
“That is where you will sleep,” Xantier told him.
“Like a dog,” Michael added bitterly.
“If you want you can sleep with the Dorcons in the third room,” the demon suggested and he watched Michael quickly shake his head, his eyes showing the fear he had for the creatures. “No? Then how about with your future friends in the sixth room?” he continued, to which Michael shook his head again, but with a sad look in his eyes this time. Xantier walked up to him and wrapped his slender fingers around his chin. “Don’t worry, you don’t always have to sleep on the mattress. Every once in a while I’ll let you sleep in my bed,” he brought his lips closer to Michael’s ear, “but I don’t think you’ll enjoy that very much.”
Michael swallowed heavily and stepped back from the demon. “T-the mattress is fine,” he muttered.
Without any comment, Xavier pushed Michael further towards the other door. He opened it for him and let him have a look around. He smirked when he noticed how Michael’s face turned pale and his eyes filled with fear when he looked inside. In the room were several devices Michael recognized from books about the medieval time period. Torture devices.
“That is one thing I like about you humans,” Xantier said as he walked into the room. With a hand he stroke over the sturdy oak of the rack. “You were quite creative with some of the devices you made to inflict pain on other humans. I quite like these designs from medieval Europe, I’ve used them quite a bit.” He turned to Michael and showed a smile that sent a shiver through his spine. “We will spend some time here together, just you and me.” The demon walked back to Michael and grabbed his chin so he was forced to look at him. “You will scream and you will cry and I will enjoy every moment we spend here,” he promised.
“Whatever you’ll do to me,” Michael whispered. “I will not cry.”
“I will break you,” Xantier hissed. “You will beg for me to end your life and take your soul.”
On the first day Xantier already proved how sadistic he could be. The following days weren’t any better for Michael. The demon enjoyed inflicting pain on his subjects, use them for his own pleasure and he loved the sound of their screams. Torturing his human pets was a hobby and Michael was no exception. More often than not his screams echoed on the walls of the castle.
Sometimes, when Xantier was bored inside his castle, he took Michael out for a walk through the lands and shared some knowledge about the other inhabitants. The walks, even if educational, were agonizing. Even if the demon wasn’t inflicting pain, there were always bruises or wounds that had yet to heal and ached when he moved. During the walks Michael saw many of the creatures of the demonic realm. There were many demons he already knew from books or from hunting them, both higher and lower, but occasionally he came across one he didn’t know yet. He also saw big dog-like creatures which were called hellhounds. They were feasting on the corpse of a lower demon and Xantier warned him to stay away from those dangerous creatures. While all the higher demons who lived in the realm knew each other, most of them were not on friendly terms with the others. One of the higher demons Xantier did get along with had planted a garden, as he called it himself. He had put stakes in the ground and the impaled bodies of lesser demons and humans adorned his front yard. Michael refused to look at it, but that one glance had already made his stomach turn.
~
Days turned into weeks, but Michael soon lost track of time in the strange realm filled with horror and pain. More often then not he thought back to the party, that last moment when he had seen his relatives. He often wondered if he could have done it differently, but every time he concluded he couldn’t have done it any other way. Giving in to the demand of Xantier and sign that contract, even if it had lead to this, was still better than to be responsible for the death of his entire family. There was no way he could live with that. They were safe, at least they were safe.
*** © Mariska Bekker ***