Rorgramathan started to cast his spell to take them to the spiritual world. The military, however, wouldn’t let the demon do his thing unchallenged. They used her visit as a distraction and aimed at the cultists inside the wooden lodge using infrared imaging. In the cold of winter, the open building offered a perfect backdrop to see the warm people inside even through the plank walls. The building had poor insulation, a reason it was left closed in Winter.
They aimed their rifles through openings on windows and doors, however.
“Command, this is Crusader. I have the Princess and Thundercat in my sight,” the spotter said.
“Prepare to down all hostiles with piercing ammo,” Came the order over the radio. “Do not put friendlies in the line of fire. Prepare Moon Rounds and Holy Water vials to attack Bloated.”
“Crusader to all units. Prepare to fire on my mark. Hold your fire if either Princess or Thundercat is in your line of fire. Switch to piercing ammo. Ready, aim.”
The marksmen hiding in the woods lined their shots, avoiding Cat or Mr. Mouser. They weren’t aiming at the demon right now, their intention was to clear the house of cultists first.
The shots rang in unison like a peal of thunder. With time to aim and electronic help, everyone in the building except for the three magical creatures was struck at once. Blood splattered everywhere from open wounds caused by the high-velocity rounds. The piercing rounds opened holes in flesh bodies, wooden walls, and glass panes. However, they transmitted too little energy to the softer materials, wounding but not killing the cultists. Should they get medical aid before they bled or froze to death, they would probably survive.
Hearing Catherine's incessant screams of terror, Cat froze in panic as Rorgramathan added a gloating cackle to his chant. The demon cackled as she could see him sucking the souls of the cultists, accelerating their demise. She opened her mouth and breathed out, making a white cloud. All she could do was spin around as she fell on her knees and reached out to see if her mother was okay.
She saw Mrs. Wallenstein propped on her elbows, staring lifelessly at her while blood poured out of two holes on opposite sides of the woman’s head. Cat screamed, imitating the screeches from the keening ghost in her head. Cultists writhed and moaned on the wooden floor, bleeding and dying.
But now that she was no longer standing up, the military started the second stage of their attack. More shots sent showers of splinters as the softer silver rounds didn’t punch through the wood as clean as the previous salvo. Those were aimed at the immobile demon, absorbed in his magic spell.
The blubbery infernal flesh hissed and sputtered as the blessed silver from Nevada struck him. Hot steaming ichors gushed in all directions, falling on the crying girl and the feline wrapped around her neck. She wheezed to breathe as her world unraveled. She wanted to crawl and hug her mother, see if there was any chance she was still alive but she couldn’t move. Her body wouldn’t answer her command.
The elite commandos stormed the building, entering through the door and windows, finishing the job the piercing rounds couldn’t as they broke the glass spectacularly. Their rifles sang the song of death as they delivered their special payload on the demon. The second wave behind these soldiers had no weapon but the vials of holy water Alice prepared for them. They tossed the fragile glass bottles at the demon’s foot and the ceiling above him, making sure they would shatter against the wood and not just bounce on his rubbery skin. A shower of enchanted water and glass shards fell upon both of them as the demon hissed in pain.
Rorgramathan’s spell reached the apex and Cat felt it take hold of something she never noticed before inside her. Was it her magic? A small portion of her mind that remained conscious of what was happening asked. She felt herself being dragged back on her feet as one of the rifles roared and struck her stomach. She felt at first warmth than a piercing cold emanating from the wound.
Mr. Mouser jumped down from her neck, twisting as she was dragged out of her body.
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The material world froze as the demon dragged both of them to the immaterial world between moments in time. Cat felt the warmth drain from her core as some unknown energy was siphoned out of her. The pain from her bullet wound vanished, however.
Around her, droplets of Holy Water caught the light as they appeared to float on the air. She could see each soldier with a look of determination and righteous fury aiming at the demon.
Cat turned around and saw the poor state Rorgramathan appeared in. Wounded and in his last leg, more of his blisters had popped and he looked emaciated.
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“I might be done for, but you won’t endure this for long either. State your business, mortal. Once you die of magical exhaustion, your soul will be mine,” Rorgramathan warbled with glee.
Cat knew the demon for what he truly was. A debt collection agent. Just like the collection firms banks sold their delinquent debts to, it was a success to retrieve dimes on a dollar. She had several advantages over the demon in the upcoming negotiation, most of them borne of the asymmetric information they had. The demon thought he was dealing with a reborn Catherine. He stood baffled several times as to why he couldn’t retrieve her soul. Whatever the divine agent did to them, Catherine was sheltered inside her and only she held the keys to her damnation. Maybe that was the celestial’s plan all along. Trick the demon into giving up.
She knew she hadn’t much time but her wording needed to be precise.
“If you allow, I may sometimes refer to myself in the third person, for clarity purposes,” she asked.
“Fair enough. I agree to that.”
In this dimension, there was no falsehood. Even the demon couldn’t lie. It was one of the unspoken maxims of the realm, just like Gravity was in our baryonic world.
“The terms of this deal are not finished until I say and I quote, ‘and that’s the deal’. First, you’ll relinquish Hell’s claim on Catherine Wallenstein’s soul.”
“You know I can accept or deny this Deal, don’t you? You cannot force me to accept it.”
“How’s Mr. Scratch doing?” She baited, mentioning the alias the devil in Daniel Webster’s story used.
Rorgramathan clicked his tongue, “That moth-loving loser. He was demoted as one of the reasons we can’t wander around freely anymore.”
That confirmed the New Hampshire tale was true. Also that several of her assumptions were true.
“I bet he’ll love to see you go back as a total loser. You're already done for. They army pumped enough silver and holy water all over your body to blast you all the way to the Pearly Gates. If you don’t take my Deal, you’ll leave this Mortal Realm without a thing to show up back in Hell. Then you’ll be the loser. And know what? When your replacement arrives here, I’ll make another Deal with that guy and surrender myself, maybe asking to have you as a pet in Hell.”
She took a good gander at the demon. He seemed tired and most of his blubbery blisters where he stowed the souls she saw him sucking back in Brooklyn were gone. She knew her words got under his skin as the demon fumed with anger. His slime ignited as his tail whipped behind him like a viper ready to strike.
“You don’t have much time. Let’s see what verbal trap you set for me and I’ll have great delight in seeing you despair when I unravel your mortal tricks.”
“Good. First clause. You relinquish Hell’s claim on Catherine Wallenstein’s soul for all eternity. In the second Clause, you’ll restore Catherine Wallenstein’s body to the exact conditions from before she jumped from the building. The third Clause, she’ll carry all the blessings I now bear. To clarify, you are not at liberty of changing or subtracting my blessings.”
Rorgramathan clicked his tongue. “I don’t see any advantage for me. Continue.”
She spoke in a vain tone, “Fourth Clause. You’ll make me a natural redhead with the same hair color as the wig I use in my webcam streams. You’ll also increase my breast cup size by two sizes. Make the bare minimum changes necessary to my DNA but keep it recognizable as a Wallenstein.”
The demon laughed. “Preposterous! Why do you want to change your boob size when you are about to die?”
She disdainfully glared at him. “At least like this in the event I may die, I’ll look gorgeous in the coffin. Speaking of which, an addendum to the Fourth Clause. Make my eyelashes twenty percent longer. Also, make my body three times as strong, twice more precise, dexterous, flexible, and agile. And… and… an inch taller!” She poked her index up as she let some excitement leak in her voice.
Rorgramathan shook his head. “Stupid vain mortals. Don’t worry, all this is fine. You’ll look your best in the coffin.”
“Fifth Clause, You’ll restore all of the assets, companies, trust funds, real estate, cash, investments, and related structures, acquit any and all debt, of the Wallenstein family and Catherine Wallenstein in particular. You’ll also make sure they appreciate according to the S&P 500 index plus one percent plus any and all applicable taxes from the time Catherine Wallenstein jumped up to tomorrow.”
The demon burped, “You will be dead, why do you care about money?”
“It’s called a Dynasty Trust for a reason, dumbass,” she replied with a sneer. “Sixth Clause, you’ll relinquish any and all claims Hell has on either me or my mother’s soul.”
“You already said that. Are you okay?” He grinned.
Cat felt she was about to faint from magic exhaustion. She had to end this quickly.
“Amendment to the fifth clause, you will not interfere with the investments and assets I gained after the incident that generated a claim on Catherine Wallenstein’s soul.”
Impatient, Rorgramathan shook his bloated arms, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. Beauty, money, the basic stuff. Will you ask for eternal life too? Too bad, that’s not going to happen. Go ahead. What’s in it for me?”
“In exchange for all that, you may take my quote-unquote ‘Catherine Wallenstein’ soul. Repeating, you may become the sole owner of the ‘Catherine Wallenstein’ soul I possess.”
The joke was on him. She didn’t own someone else’s soul. It all hinged on him not catching up on her duality and her nailing the rules of this demonic Deal. But the demon was rubbing his clawed hands, drooling in anticipation. Rorgramathan tapped his feet. “So? Are you done? You didn’t say the magic words!”
She was already on her knees, cold beads of sweat running down her face. “You have two seconds from the next sentence to accept or reject it! And that’s the deal!”
The demon didn’t hesitate. He said, “I accept” as he drove a claw into Cat’s spectral chest to grab his prize. The remaining of his blubbery blisters popped as the energy to complete the Deal leaked from him. "No!" When more energy than he expected left him, the demon screamed in frustration. But by then the phantasmal world vanished as she lost consciousness without even knowing if her gamble worked or if she’d return to her body or not.