《A Demon for Daria》 Chapter One --Daria-- ¡°WE INVOKE THEE! WE INVOKE THEE! WE INVOKE THEE!¡± Nothing happens. Not that I really expected anything. Nothing ever happens that I can tell. This is the third time I¡¯ve done a ritual with Fiona, my co-worker from Tri County Community Action Charity Thrift Store. On my first day at the new job, Fiona saw my necklace and made some assumptions. There¡¯s a pentagram, an amethyst, a tree of life and all kinds of charms and symbols on the necklace and its happened a lot that wiccans and witchy people assume that I¡¯m into the same stuff they¡¯re into. It was my Aunt Celia¡¯s necklace. She was into it. I loved her and I miss her, and I wear this necklace in remembrance of her. I don¡¯t mind when people mistake me as ¡®witchy.¡¯ It brings back fond memories of weekends at Celia¡¯s which were the best part of my childhood and¡ªwell I don¡¯t have any beliefs about the afterlife or spirituality or anything like that. As far as I can tell, there¡¯s no such thing as afterlife, souls, spirits, ghosts, angels, demons or anything. We live, we die, that¡¯s it. Game over. And I don¡¯t want to bring anybody down by telling them that. That I think all of the rituals, crystals, everything is for nothing. Fiona is a true-believer though. She actually reminds me of my aunt. And I don¡¯t have any friends here, and since I¡¯m a single mother of nine year old twins I have no time for a social life. Inviting Fiona over for strawberry daiquiris and invoking a deity was fun. We¡¯re standing naked in my dining room, ash and paste smeared over our bodies, symbols chalked out on the floor, salt lining every window sill and threshold, candles burning at each point. Our arms are raised, heads thrown back, loose hair streaming down out backs as we hold for a moment just in case something happens. Every time we do this, Fiona acts like something really big and obvious is going to happen. When it doesn¡¯t, she never acts disappointed. We just clean up all of the salt, chalk and candles and try again whenever the mood hits her. This latest ritual is a spell that she found in a book she bought online. It¡¯s supposed to be the personal grimoire of¡ªI don¡¯t know who. The eBay listing really sold it though. Making out like it was powerful and kind of cursed and they just want it gone! I¡¯m skeptical, but Fiona was 100% sold and so excited when she won the auction. To me the ink on those pages looks new and ¡®distressed¡¯ to appear old. I keep that to myself. ¡°Mom? Why are you naked?¡± This comes from a child standing on the stairs in over-sized footy pajamas, brown hair mussed, gripping a squishy stuffed rhinoceros. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Ah! Jesus!¡± You can tell Fiona didn¡¯t grow up in this by the way she yells and covers her naked tits, like nudity is harmful to kids. I walk to Jessie, accidentally smearing the line of salt at the doorway. ¡°I¡¯m just helping Fiona with a ritual. What are you doing up, honey? You have school tomorrow,¡± I ask as I lead her toward the bathroom. If I¡¯ve learned one thing the hard way it¡¯s that kids should be encouraged to go pee at every opportunity. ¡°I had a dream,¡± she says. ¡°There was a smoke-person in my room.¡± ¡°That sounds scary.¡± She shakes her head, bobbed hair bouncing around. ¡°They were nice. They said sorry for bothering me and asked if I needed any help. Then they left.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± ¡°It woke me up then I heard you¡­¡± She uses the toilet, washes her hands and I grab my robe out of the bathroom then help her back into bed. It takes all of five minutes, but by the time I come downstairs Fiona is at the door dressed and ready to leave. ¡°Daria, I¡¯m so sorry! I didn¡¯t think¡ª!¡± I wave off her concern. Jessie isn¡¯t hurt at all by witnessing naked women standing around candles. I open the door for her, but don¡¯t walk her out because my robe is kind of slinky. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Hun. I¡¯ll see you Saturday.¡± She gives me a side hug. ¡°See ya, good night!¡± ¡°¡¯Night.¡± I watch through the blinds for a minute until her uber arrives. Not for the first time I wonder what Fiona gets out of this. Every spell and ritual we have done together, all at her suggestion, have been for me. She thinks I¡¯m lonely, sad, etc. So we¡¯ve been doing spells to attract love, build community, and stuff like that. I appreciate the gesture because I am new in town, but to me Fiona seems like the lonely one. Maybe she¡¯s using me as a guinea pig? Maybe this is a phase, like a new exotic religion she¡¯s trying out? All I know is I¡¯m in too deep now to turn around on her and say, ¡°Actually, I don¡¯t buy into this at all, and all of this effort is wasted on me.¡± Maybe if I can make some friends, go on a couple dates, I could attribute them to her spells, thank her, and give it a rest. The first few times it was fun, I felt nostalgic because it reminded me of the things I used to do with my aunt. It¡¯s getting a little old now. I¡¯m about to go to bed when I walk past the dining room and see that it¡¯s full of smoke. What the hell? Did one of the candles fall over or what? I rush into the room, but it¡¯s empty. Fiona has cleaned everything up, just like every other time. I wave a hand through the smoke and¡ªit¡¯s cold. The smoke it freezing cold causing me to shiver as my naked skin breaks out in goose-bumps. I step back and it goes away. Reaching out, I touch the smoke with the very tip of my finger¡ªstill incredibly cold! My hand slaps against the wall behind me until I hit the light-switch. Oh. My. Fuck. My throat tightens and a feel a scream welling up, but the noise that comes out is a squeaky whimper as my knees fold and I fall to the floor. The thing in front of me is made of smoke, black, sooty smoke and two glowing eyes and it¡¯s got this demonic vibe. Dizziness sets in and blurred vision. I need to take a breath, but I¡¯m terrified of breathing is this awful smoke. My body is frozen, cold and immobile. It moves toward me, floating above me. As I stare in bug-eyed horror, the smoke coalesces, solidifies into a very tall, slender person. A person with tall horns arching over their head and a tail slithering around behind them. All deepest, darkest black except for those eyes like two moons shining down at me from the thing¡¯s great height. ¡°What is it you want of me?¡± It¡¯s voice is a slithery whisper. There is no mouth, just these words projected at me. I¡ªI can¡¯t speak. I don¡¯t know what to do. Anther whimper/squeak bubbles out of my mouth as I lean back, falling. Then I pass out. Chapter Two --Fetter-- The summoner lies prone for a few moments. I can wait. My patience is infinite. It is easy to wait here. Comfortable. No whaling screams of the damned. No tortured souls begging for clemency. This home is quite and pleasant to my senses. So that I may experience it better, I make a human form. Leaning into the summoners mind, teasing out her preferences, I make myself male. Dark hair, dark eyes, stocky build that is solid and strong. I like it, I enjoy her preferences. Inhaling deeply and running my hand over my soft belly then through my hair. Nice. ¡°It¡¯s you! The shadow from my dream!¡± A child speaks this from the stairs. Yes, I did meet this one on my way to the summoning. She pulled me into her dream for just a moment before I could escape. ¡°Why is mom asleep on the floor?¡± I look down at the summoner again and her eyelids are starting to flutter. Adopting a masculine voice to match this form I answer, ¡°She fainted from fright.¡± ¡°Oh, well don¡¯t scare her next time.¡± I nod because that was my plan. She is already stirring and waking anyway. ¡°Jessie¡ªwhat¡ª?¡± ¡°Mom, I think we might be dreaming. The shadow person turned into a guy.¡± The summoner looks from the child to myself then back to the child. ¡°We¡¯re dreaming together?¡± The kid nods. ¡°That happens sometimes.¡± ¡°Oh¡ªokay. I feel awake though.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think we are.¡± The summoner clambers to her feet, turns around once, looks down at her hands then back up at me. ¡°What would you ask of me?¡± I demand. We need to get the negotiation out of the way. She shakes her hands and hops once. ¡°What do people usually ask for?¡± ¡°Wealth, fame, revenge, love¡ª¡± She looks into my face at that, so I hurry to explain. ¡°I cannot force someone to love you, but I could look into their minds and make you more attractive and lovable to them.¡± I am proud of these skills. Not every spawn of hell is so talented. She is lucky it was I who answered her summoning. ¡°They¡¯re probably all tricky right? And I end up miserable in the end no matter what I wish for right?¡± She laughs, then brushes her hands against her thighs and says, ¡°I feel awake.¡± ¡°I am not a granter of wishes. This is not a trick. You have demanded a favor of me and offered your soul with that summoning ritual. Lucky you, I have accepted. Now tell me what favor you ask of me?¡± She smirks, ¡°A favor huh? How about babysitting?¡± She must see that I am confused because she goes on to explain, ¡°Childcare. Supervise these kids after school and on the weekends. Keep them safe. Help them do homework and school projects. Cook healthy dinners, pack lunches, do laundry, clean house, and tuck them in at night. That would be worth my soul I think. I¡¯m not doing anything with it.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± Her body floats up into the air a few feet as everything around us blinks in and out of existence for a sliver of a moment. She probably doesn¡¯t notice it, but when it is over, I have her eternal soul safely tucked away. She is back on her feet touching her chest and looking confused. The child slides their hands together, ¡°Mom, let¡¯s go to bed. I don¡¯t want this dream anymore.¡± ¡°Okay, baby.¡± The two slowly walk up the stairs, the summoner glancing over her shoulder at me every few seconds until she disappears into a room up there. Wonderful. I have to congratulate myself on a deal well struck. It is not always so easy. And now I get to stay here, in this realm, in this house until these children are grown. What good fortune. And how easy. Let¡¯s see, so the next task I must do to fulfill the bargain is get the little humans to school in five hours¡¯ time. By gently tapping into each young mind for a moment I gather all of the information I need. Clothes, backpacks, lunches¡ªthis is trivial. I am beginning to feel like my summoner may be stupid. Why would she sell her soul for such a small price? It is really the only bargaining chip humans have, the only thing of value to survive their short lives on this plane and she gave it away for this menial labor? Stupid. But then humans are not known for their intellect. Assembling each lunch for these children is mildly entertaining. Building sandwiches, cutting crusts. Grapes, carrot spears. I know that each youngling would like to find a ¡®treat¡¯ in their lunch containers and when I search the cupboard I find no such thing. What manner of injustice is this? My human charges deserve the very best of lunches and that means a treat! Discorporating into a cloud of smoke, I move out over a large area and hunt for treats. It does not take long, there is a merchant selling fuel and food in a small building nearby. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Taking my preferred, humanish form, I enter the shop. And grab many snacks that I know are favorites. The shopkeeper is watching me in startlement, so I touch upon her mind and realize that my state of nakedness is alarming. Realizing this, I make an outfit for myself, willing my form covered in the same manner of clothing the shopkeeper is wearing. This upsets her further. Bah. This jumpy shop-keep¡¯s sensitive feelings are not my concern. Holding the snacks close to myself I partially discorporate and fly these looted treats home. I place the lunches in the fridge and get to work putting together all of the pieces required for the school outfits. Here is another puzzle with many parts that must fit together in appropriate cohesiveness. Socks, underwear, pants, tank-top, shirt, jacket, hat, gloves. Everything must coordinate and I am careful not to offend the individual stylistic taste of each child in my selections. When I am satisfied, I hang each outfit on each respective door so that these children will find them when they awaken. It is all set. A warm satisfaction fills my being as I discorporate and wait for the children to awaken. My side of the bargain is fulfilled this night and I hold the soul I have gained close. This is what success feels like. I have witnessed demons who failed in their endeavors return to the under-realm empty-handed. Some cannot locate a summoner, some do not negotiate successfully. They are to be pitied. Hungry, unfulfilled, wasting away. That will not be me. I am clever and resourceful. I will succeed in all my endeavors and be sustained by this soul that I have already gained in my first night on this plane. When the family wakes, I am tempted to reveal myself so they can thank me in person for all of my work, but one child yells, ¡°The bus!¡± and both go sprinting out the door. The woman, the one who summoned me stands there for a moment, hair disheveled, robe askew as she fills a carafe, making herself a hot drink. ¡°Call Fiona.¡± At first I think she has given me an order, but she is contacting someone. A device on her counter projects a voice not hers. ¡°Good morning beautiful.¡± ¡°Hey Fiona, are you busy?¡± ¡°Never too busy for you Dar.¡± ¡°Well aren¡¯t you a treat this morning?¡± My summoner stirs a few things into her concoction then takes a careful sip. The cup is steaming, and it smells vaguely of dirt. ¡°If you promise not to judge me, I¡¯ll tell you why I¡¯m in a spectacular mood.¡± ¡°I would never judge you and you know this.¡± ¡°I fucked the uber driver!¡± ¡°YOU WHAT?!¡± Hot dirt drink sloshes onto the counter as the cup is carelessly set down. ¡°You¡¯re judging!¡± ¡°No. Not judging.¡± ¡°Listen, if you were me you would have done the same thing. Because this guy¡ªhe smelled so good. Like a delicious lumberjack. And you know when a guy has a sharp haircut, and he smells good¡ª? And he had these dark eyes that were seeing right into my soul. I was hypnotized.¡± ¡°Is that what you call it?¡± ¡°Then I was dick-matized.¡± The summoner snorts and picks her cup up again as the voice goes on and on. ¡°He was really confident, and you know how hot it is, when a guy knows what he¡¯s doing and just¡ªdoes it. I was aghast. I was like ¡®Sir! How dare you play my body like an instrument and make me come three times after we just met?¡¯¡± ¡°Three?!¡± ¡°On god! Three times!¡± ¡°Wow, no wonder you¡¯re in a good mood.¡± ¡°For sure. And now that my dry spell of six months is over I feel like things are really looking up for me. I did a reading for myself this morning and I got the wheel of fortune in present and ace of pentacles in future so¡ª¡± ¡°Nice.¡± ¡°Yeah, so what were you calling about?¡± ¡°Oh, I was just wondering, can you take a few pictures of that ritual we did and send it to me? I want to research its origins and¡ª¡± ¡°I can, but the eBay listing said it was all unique. That this one witch in the seventies came up with all these secret spells and rituals then bound them together in this book then bespelled the book so¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah, I just want to look into some of the words, I couldn¡¯t tell what the language was in the middle part.¡± ¡°Alright. Well, I have it in my bag. I¡¯m on my way to work, so I¡¯ll swing by in a sec. Hey, do you think it worked? Did the ritual get me laid?¡± ¡°No, Hun, you got yourself laid. That guy stood no chance.¡± ¡°Heh. He didn¡¯t. I¡¯ll be out front in a minute.¡± After she leaves out the front door and comes back clutching a book, I consider coalescing. I should regain my human form and talk with her. I cannot keep touching her mind to learn things. It happens sometimes that a human will go mad if their mind is touched too often. Better be safe and start communicating with her. She is leaning over the counter looking back and forth between the book and her phone. She purses he lips then mumbles, ¡°Feh¡ª? Feeha? Feth¡ª?¡± ¡°It reads ¡®Furfur,¡¯¡± I say as I take form behind her. ¡°Iye-eeeeee!¡± She turns, hair flying around her head and holds a hand out in front of her. ¡°You must have said ¡®Fetter¡¯ when you did the ritual though. That is me. I am Fetter.¡± Her hand jerks to the sink where she grabs a knife and then starts slashing it at me. She hits my left shoulder and slashes down my chest. ¡°Ah! How could you?¡± I hold the cut and look to her accusingly. ¡°You have harmed me!¡± She looks to the knife, then back to me. Her hand falls to her side. ¡°I¡ªI¡ªyou¡ª!¡± ¡°It is a joke, I am joking with you.¡± I move my hand so she can see that I am not harmed at all. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I am a demon, a supernatural being. I cannot be harmed by your cutlery.¡± ¡°Oh. A¡ªdemon?¡± ¡°Yes. You summoned me last night. Sold me your soul in exchange for menial household labor. Do you not recall?¡± ¡°I thought that was¡ª¡± She audibly swallows. ¡°I thought I was dreaming¡ªmy soul?¡± ¡°Yes. I have it here.¡± I touch my chest and allow that area to discorporate enough for her to see the bright flicker of her soul. ¡°I think I need that back,¡± she says, voice trembling. ¡°We struck a bargain. I already assembled two lunches and two outfits. You cannot say that I¡ª¡± ¡°You what? Lunches?!¡± I nod my head. ¡°I traded my soul for lunches?¡± I nod again. She looks very upset, so I explain. ¡°You do not actually need your soul you know. It is just the spark used to make you. You do not require it. Nothing has changed for you in this life.¡± ¡°What about the next life?¡± I sigh. This is a heavy conversation. Why did she not ask these questions first, during negotiation? ¡°The afterlife is complicated. You do not technically need a soul. You can go to heaven or hell or purgatory and the soul¡ªit just follows along. Unless you have bargained it away¡ª¡± ¡°So all of that is real? The afterlife?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And¡ªwhat about my soul again?¡± ¡°The soul is a spark. It is an ignition used to spark your spirit and consciousness into being. So picture the creator, God as you would call them, they are an infinite towering inferno of light. They give just the tiniest speck of that light to you, to jump-start you into being. But now, years afterward, you do not strictly need it. You go on living just the same without it.¡± Everything I have said is the truth. I have just left a few things out. ¡°Okay, and you are a demon?¡± Standing a bit taller, I proudly explain, ¡°I am Fetter, of the Fifth Circle. You summoned me and I am here.¡± ¡°Oh-okay, yeah. I guess that¡¯s what this spell does. Fiona thought it would enhance our love-lives or something¡ª¡± She is calming down now. Good. I find it agitating when she is upset. ¡°The person who made this book used that spell to summon a demon and bind it to her, to do her bidding.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± she says, leaning back against the counter. ¡°That demon¡¯s name is Furfur. He is obnoxious, just really unpleasant. You are lucky you misspoke and got me instead,¡± I inform her. ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re a better demon than them?¡± ¡°I can discorporate. And I can change my appearance quickly, Furfur is restricted to their true form which is very distressing to humans. They have hooves, horns, and an animalistic face that¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mind hooves or horns,¡± she murmurs. And I feel the truth in her words. Without conscious intention from me, horns sprout from my head and my soft human feet transform into hooves. She giggles, a smile transforming her face. I have seen her smile, but this one is for me, and it is another success. I have put her at ease. Furfur could never. Chapter Three I snap a couple of pictures of Fetter and send them to Fiona. Girl, this guy says he is a demon and our ritual yesterday summoned him. I checked and it is a summoning spell! Wut!? Come by my place again after work. My phone buzzes with a call from Fiona and when I answer she¡¯s yelling in my ear. ¡°There¡¯s a demon in your house! Get out of there!¡± ¡°I think it¡¯s okay, he seems like a nice demon,¡± I say. ¡°A NICE DEMON?!¡± ¡°Uh, yeah. Like, he made lunches for the kids and he¡¯s very polite explaining everything to me even though I cut him with my bread knife.¡± Fiona makes an inarticulate noise of dismay. ¡°Listen, just come by after work¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m leaving now!¡± I hear a muffled yell, she¡¯s turned her phone away as she hollers at her co-workers. Then she¡¯s back on the phone. ¡°Listen, my Aunty Lindsay knows how to deal with stuff like this. I¡¯m going to call her. And I¡¯ll be over to your place in like¡ª20 minutes?¡± ¡°Okay, but Fi¡ª¡± ¡°And wear your Aunt¡¯s necklace! Have you charged your schorl recently? Put it in the middle of your table¡ªNo, wait, put it in your pocket! And don¡¯t talk to the demon anymore! Ignore him! I¡¯m on my way!¡± ¡°Okay, but¡ª¡± She¡¯s hung up. I look at the demon. He still has those cute horns curling around his head. ¡°You should not tell people what I am. Nothing good can come of that,¡± he says. ¡°Yeah but Fiona helped summon you, maybe she can help sort this out.¡± He looks disgruntled, but not in a scary-demon way. In a petulant sad-boi way. That might be why I¡¯m not freaking out more. Even though he is a literal demon from hell, all he¡¯s doing is trying to placate me. Like I have the power in this situation. At length I ask, ¡°So, if a soul is just a useless leftover spark from when I was created, why do you want it?¡± He looks reluctant, but I wait silently for him to answer, and he eventually says, ¡°Your existence was sparked by a soul, but I was created in hell. There is no¡ªthe demons of hell are fallen, you understand?¡± I nod. ¡°So they are separate from the creator, the spark of their souls burned out of them in the fall.¡± Huh. I guess I never thought about demons having soul of their own or not. ¡°They do not procreate. New life cannot be created without a spark of divine creation,¡± he continues explaining. ¡°I was created through the union of a demon and a human.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re like a half-demon?¡± ¡°I am not some sandwich sliced into halves and quarters. I am demon.¡± ¡°But human too.¡± ¡°But not half anything. I am both.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± I sooth him. Obviously this is a touchy subject and we¡¯re getting hung up on semantics. ¡°So You were born. So you had your own soul?¡± He shakes his head, ¡°My father sold his soul in the middle of the act. As I was made. So that sparked my creation, but it was never my soul. It went from him to my mother who devours souls to gain power and influence. She¡¯s a succubus.¡± ¡°Oh wow.¡± ¡°Yes, so I learned from observing other demons born from humans that I could gain vitality and sustenance from the soul of human freely given to me.¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Finished talking he gazes at me with this earnest look, willing me to understand him. ¡°Alright so, you were created through some kind of demon loop-hole, and you need a human soul to sustain you?¡± I ask. ¡°Yes. Well ¡®need¡¯ might be wording it strongly. Without a soul, I still exist. I will continue to exist. But I do not have any vitality.¡± I don¡¯t think I really understand what he means by vitality. I take a deep breath and focus inward. Am I missing anything? I don¡¯t really feel different? I vaguely remember being lifted off the ground and I feeling like breath being sucked out through my chest. Was that my soul leaving my body? I rub my palm over my sternum. I feel the same. ¡°Okay, so now that you have my soul, I¡¯ve obligated you to take care of my kids? Do you even know anything about childcare?¡± He looks down at the floor. He really has remarkably pretty hair. Black curls so full and springy and soft looking that I want to touch¡ª ¡°I am planning to learn. If I can locate a child-care expert, I will touch their mind and learn everything I need to know that way¡ª¡± ¡°Touch their mind?¡± ¡°Yes. In my discorporate form I can access the thoughts and memories of a living human.¡± I nod. Okay wow. ¡°Well in the mean time you can just observe for a day or two, okay? I can¡¯t actually leave my kids in your care¡ª¡± what am I saying? Am I actually hiring a demon nanny? Well, it seems like he¡¯s not going anywhere. And he also seems pretty harmless. And pretty pretty. Not only does he have gorgeous hair, but he has high cheekbones, lusciously full lips, and his eyes are a dark brown fringed in the thickest, longest lashes I have ever seen¡ª He¡¯s just pretty. Cute. And he is earnest and sweet. So I¡¯m having a hard time being as scared as I should be. So maybe he could hang around. And I could train him up to be an awesome nanny. Maybe the kids would benefit from having demon devoted to their health and well-being? My wandering thoughts are interrupted by a loud banging at the door, then it pops open, and Fiona lets herself in. ¡°Who¡¯s this? Where¡¯s the demon? I have white sage, salt, holy water and a bible. Aunt Lindsay said that a good old fashioned exorcism is the only way to deal with this¡ª¡± I interrupt her to say, ¡°This is Fetter. He¡¯s the demon. I don¡¯t think I want to exorcize him.¡± Then I ask, ¡°I thought we weren¡¯t using sage anymore because it is a closed practice?¡± ¡°Listen, I don¡¯t want to culturally appropriate anything, but I really don¡¯t want you being harassed by a demon. So I¡¯m going to smudge your house with this then ask for forgiveness and make a big donation later.¡± ¡°A donation to what?¡± ¡°The American Indian Justice Fund.¡± This is so fucked up. ¡°That¡¯s not how this works, Fi. We know better so we have to do better. Don¡¯t use the sage. But make that donation anyway.¡± ¡°Ugh, fine. I won¡¯t use it. Unless the exorcism fails. Then all bets are off.¡± I grab the stuff out of her arms and set it on the counter. Then I grab her shoulders so she¡¯s looking at me when I speak, ¡°I don¡¯t want an exorcism. I like the demon.¡± Her mouth hangs open, then she looks from me to Fetter, then back. ¡°I think you need a priest for an exorcism anyway,¡± I add. ¡°I¡¯m an ordained minister. I did it online two years ago so I could officiate my cousin¡¯s wedding. I can perform an exorcism just as easily.¡± ¡°Please do not do an exorcism. It¡¯s a terrible ordeal and kind of gross,¡± Fetter says. He looks so worried with those big soulful eyes, I want to comfort him. ¡°Gross?¡± Fiona asks. He nods, ¡°Disgustingly sublimated ectoplasm everywhere. I¡¯ve heard it smells like burnt fur and melted plastic. And the smell never dissipates.¡± Oh that is gross. I look back to Fiona. ¡°No exorcism.¡± She nods. ¡°But how about smudging? We don¡¯t have to use the sage. We can use another¡ª¡± ¡°Smudging is a closed practice. You are the one who explained this to me.¡± She nods with a resigned air and mumbles, ¡°Nothing works as well to cleanse¡ª¡± I give her shoulders a small shake. ¡°Okay, alright, this is an appropriation-free zone,¡± Fiona pauses thoughtfully then says, ¡°We should at least bind him.¡± ¡°Please do not attempt it,¡± Fetter says. ¡°And why not?¡± Fiona demands, jerking her shoulders out of my hands to turn and face the demon head on. ¡°A binding spell will keep you from harming others! Unless you¡¯re planning to do some kind of harm¡ª?¡± ¡°But what if I need to protect Daria or her family from harm? And I am unable to do so if your binding succeeds? I will not allow it.¡± ¡°Sus,¡± Fiona mumbles, but without any heat. I gesture toward the demon and say, ¡°Look at him! He¡¯s just standing there. He¡¯s not hurting anybody. And we are the ones who summoned him.¡± ¡°Let me see that book!¡± Fiona reaches around me to slide the book towards herself, then she starts flipping through pages until she finds the summoning spell. ¡°Okay, so invocation¡­attraction¡­power¡­hmmm. I guess the way I read it, this spell was supposed to confer these things, but what it actually does is summon Furtur who is a demon and can do these things for us¡ª¡± ¡°His name is Furfur,¡± the demon speaks up. ¡°He is very unpleasant. You are lucky he did not show up.¡± ¡°How is he unpleasant?¡± Fiona asks. ¡°He lies all the time. Everything he says is a lie. And his voice is very annoying. And he smells like wet goat. He never bathes¡ª¡± ¡°Okay, I guess he does sound unpleasant.¡± Fiona looks from him to me. ¡°So you want to keep him? You made some kind of deal?¡± I nod. I won¡¯t get into the whole thing with my soul. Fiona has just now calmed down. I don¡¯t want to get her riled up again. After thinking for a moment Fiona says, ¡°Okay, so we could bind him from harming you, me, and the kids. Intentionally or unintentionally. Forever.¡± I agree. ¡°That sounds reasonable.¡± ¡°I am so bound. Refer to the summoning spell,¡± he says with patience. Fiona and I spend nearly twenty minutes translating parts of the spell. We make a list of each aspect of it, and sure enough there is a part directly after the demon is named that binds him from harming the summoners or those they care for. It also binds him to honesty. Fiona has calmed quite a bit by the time we get through all that and she¡¯s not talking about binding, smudging or exorcisms anymore. ¡°Well, there¡¯s good news,¡± I say. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°The spell worked. That¡¯s something isn¡¯t it?¡± I¡¯m trying to cheer her up, but her brows scrunch and she looks offended. ¡°The other ones worked! You¡¯re happier, your skin cleared up and Scott wants to ask you out¡ª¡± ¡°Who¡¯s Scott?¡± ¡°Ugh! You know Scott! He¡¯s the rent-a-cop. The one who hangs out at the security desk¡ª?¡± Shaking my head I tell her, ¡°I don¡¯t date cops anyway.¡± ¡°Understandable. I¡¯m just saying that our rituals work, they¡¯ve been working for both of us. This is the screw up,¡± she says gesturing toward Fetter. ¡°She means we misinterpreted the spell,¡± I tell Fetter. ¡°You¡¯re not a screw-up.¡± He smiles at me, and dimples grace each cheek. Chapter Four ¡ªFetter¡ª Daria took me to the public library where she checked out material on child-care, parenting and household management. I already know how to read the text because of the local minds I have touched. It would be much easier to locate these authors, touch their minds and absorb all of their expertise in a moment. But then I would have to leave Daria¡¯s side. Daria¡¯s company is becoming addictive to me. I think this is is thanks to my mother. Maybe I have inherited some aspects of her succubus nature. Succubi and incubi feel drawn to humans, find them attractive in a way that other demons do not. Daria is attractive to me. Her curls pulled into a knot on top of her head, her dark brown eyes, the way she licks her lips, then bites the tip of her tongue when she is trying to remember something. She also smells good. This is new to me, this impulse to stand close to her, talk with her, do things for her. I have never felt such with any being before. It is a pointless feeling. If I were an incubus I could seduce her to consume her soul. But I do not gain sustenance that way. And she does not have her soul anymore anyway. So what is the point of this feeling? This erotic pull¡ª? ¡°¡ªand when we get home I¡¯ll go over the house rules and¡ª¡± She jerks to a stop as we near the self-checkout counter of the library. ¡°Where are you going to sleep Fetter? Do you need a room or¡ª?¡± ¡°I do not sleep.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± She appears nonplussed as we continue walking. ¡°But what about your stuff? Like clothes and other personal things?¡± ¡°I do not possess any stuff.¡± She turns to me again, pointedly looking at my clothing. ¡°These clothes are part of my form. I have incorporated them into my being in the same manner I did this form,¡± I explain. ¡°Ah, okay. Well if you are going to be with us for a while, you¡¯re going to have stuff at some point. Mementos, hobbies, books, devices¡ª¡± ¡°It is not an issue,¡± I assure her. ¡°Hmmm.¡± She seems bothered by the idea that I do not require my own space in her home. The building Daria lives in was once a large home. It has been divided into three dwellings and Daria¡¯s family lives in the bottom section. As we return, a lone man is is coming down the side stairs. ¡°Hello Daria!¡± ¡°Hi Chris.¡± He stands looking at us, obviously waiting for Daria to introduce me. I am grateful that I was able to discorporate the horns. Daria does not introduce us. I remain quiet and wait. He is slim, with sparse brown hair and dull blue eyes. When she starts to turn and open the door, Chris says, ¡°So, uh, I¡¯m going to that fellowship thing at church. You¡¯re welcome anytime¡ª¡± ¡°Thanks, but I have a guest¡ª¡± ¡°All are welcome,¡± Chris counters. ¡°No thank you,¡± I say. Briefly touching his mind,I find a miasma of lust, perversion and obsession. Not at all what I would expect from the thoughts of one focused on pious worship. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.Stepping closer to Daria, I place a reassuring hand on her back. ¡°Thanks though, Chris. Have fun,¡± she says, dismissing him. When we are securely inside the apartment I tell her, ¡°I do not like him. He is¡ªnot right.¡± ¡°Yeah¡ªtoo bad he¡¯s the landlord.¡± We set the books down and she starts explaining, ¡°The kids are dropped off at 4:15 or there-bouts. They have a snack, and do homework. Dinner is at six, so its a good idea to start prepping it at 5:20. They shower and brush their teeth at 8:30, in bed by nine.¡± I follow her around the dwelling and she shows me where all of the cleaning supplies are, tutors me on how to wash, dry, fold and put away laundry, then we are in the kitchen. ¡°On Sundays, I meal plan and prep a few crock pot dinners, but tonight we¡¯re making Chili and corn bread. So I preheat the oven, put an oiled cast iron skillet in there¡ª¡± As she explains how to prepare chili and corn bread, she does it herself. This is confusing to me because this is my work to do and I already know how to do it from having touched her mind when I first arrived. I remain attentive.¡±¡ªI like to pre-measure all of the seasonings and just dump them in together. So when the onions are brown and soft like this, add the garlic and when that¡¯s fragrant¡ª¡± This goes on for a long time. As she¡¯s covering the chili, the children arrive home. ¡°Mom! Mom! Jessie got in trouble on the bus! She punched Silas in the nose! Now she¡¯s going to have detention and¡ª¡± ¡°You snitch!¡± the other child yells. ¡°I¡ª¡± Daria holds up a hand, silencing the children then asks, ¡°Jessie, you punched someone?¡± She nods. ¡°Why did you do that?¡± ¡°Because he called Jamie a slur! Two slurs! The F word and the R word!¡± Daria tilts her head then asks, ¡°And why didn¡¯t you tell the bus driver, or wait and tell another adult about this?¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m not a snitch!¡± The child juts her chin out and glares at the other kid. ¡°I¡¯m not a snitch either!¡± ¡°You just snitched on me to mom.¡± ¡°I just told her what happened.¡± ¡°That is snitching.¡± ¡°Is not!¡± ¡°Is too!¡± Daria interjects, ¡°It¡¯s not snitching because you¡¯re not in trouble with me.¡± Both of the kids just look at her. ¡°Its okay that you defended Jamie. You broke the rules on the bus, so you get detention and that¡¯s that. You¡¯re in trouble with them not me,¡± she explains. Both kids look stunned for second, but put their bags on the dining table and retrieved their schoolwork. They both work diligently as Daria shreds cheese, chops parsley, removes the cornbread from the oven and brushes butter over it. Discorporate, I remain unseen by the two children. Daria is planning to introduce me to them tomorrow. I wonder if I can eat this food? I have never eaten before. If I was to consume chili and then discorporate, would the chili just fall to the floor? This body does not have a digestive tract, but maybe I could make one and just stay in that state until digestion concludes? On second thought, I don¡¯t actually want to experience the conclusion.