“Christ on a cracker, Alan…”
In the dim light of a sputtering lantern, one that’s been sitting in the back of Chip’s closet for years, Alan can’t quite see his roommate’s exasperated expression, but he can certainly feel the older man’s eyes digging into him.
“Look, it’s not like it was my idea!” Alan gestures to the mostly-cleaned deer, which is suspended between them on a rope tied to one of the surrounding trees. “Blame miss biblical-horror over there!” He says, then pointing to Prim.
In the shadows between two trees, Prim, still in the form of a mind-bogglingly sized wolf, blinks her luminescent eyes. If one didn’t know any better, they might call the expression innocent.
Chip sighs once more, rolling his wrist. In his hand is a blood-stained knife, one in desperate need of a sharpening with how slow-going cleaning Prim’s ‘gift’ has been. “I’m just saying, you couldn’t have your friend drop this thing off in the woods? We're lucky nobody saw this thing on our doorstep.” He asks, looking over his shoulder at the rows of apartments in the distance.
Behind the apartment complex is a patch of overgrown, un-industrialized land, which is lucky, as it gives them somewhere private to butcher Prim’s catch… Or rather, it gives Chip somewhere private to butcher Prim’s catch. Alan hasn’t cleaned a game animal since childhood, and even then, it was his father who told him how to make every cut.
Alan just shrugs.
“Well, make yourself useful and get another bag,”
Alan bends down, grabbing another gallon zip lock bag from the nearly-empty box at his feet. Popping it open, he holds the bag out so Chip can drop another cut of venison inside. Squeezing the bag to get rid of most of the air, Alan drops it on the pile of other filled bags. For once, it looks like their freezer is going to be full.
“So, demons, huh?” Chip asks, looking at Prim.
“Yep,” Alan answers, leaning back on a tree behind him. “You don’t seem so surprised.”
Chip takes a moment to answer as he slowly frees another slab of meat from the deer. The rhythmic movements of his knife make it clear that he’s done this more than once. “Maybe the week has exhausted me to the point that I don’t care, or maybe the idea of fresh venison is shutting me up, but either way, what can I do about a real demon? Call the church so they can come do a halfhearted exorcism? Would that even do anything?” He asks. Despite his bravado, Chip’s gaze is still a touch nervous as he turns his attention to Prim.
The demon mulls over his words. “I have doubts. The effectiveness of an exorcism is highly dependent on the knowledge and faith of the priest conducting the ritual. I am a shapeshifter whose true name has long been lost to the annals of time, and without knowledge of my essence, any attempt to exorcize me would prove futile.” Just like their meeting the night prior, Prim seems surprised that Chip is being so lax with her, or at least that’s how it looks to Alan. “This new world you inhabit… is one of skepticism and doubt, which undermines the efficacy of sacred rites and exorcisms, anyway. The likelihood of encountering a clergyman capable of banishing me, even if they possessed knowledge of my true nature, is minimal.”
“Well, there you have it,” Chip grunts, cutting another chuck away from the deer’s flank. “Alan, bag.”
Together, the pair of men render the kill down as much as they can, then drag the messy remains deeper into the un-industrialized land to let nature reclaim it in peace. Their plastic- stored spoils in tow, they begin the trek back to the apartment. Behind them, Prim melts into an inky puddle and slithers along the ground, following.
Once inside, the meat, with the exception of a pair of steaks, is stored away in the freezer. Prim, still in the form of a patch of darkness, takes a place on the wall so she may watch Chip and Alan take turns at the stove to individually prepare their dinners. Chip finishes his food first, and after sending another distrustful look towards Prim, he claims the couch in the living room with a beer in one hand, and the TV remote in the other. From how he sits in the middle of the small couch, leaving little room on either side of him, it’s clear that Chip wants to be left alone.
‘Suits me just fine. I’ve got demon shit to get up to, apparently.’ Alan polishes off his dinner plate with a satisfied sigh. The plate and his silverware are set in the kitchen sink to be washed later. Looking up, he meet’s Prim’s eyes, which blink back from her place as a shadow on the wall. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”
“Indeed,” Prim agrees, sliding down to the floor.
Alan, with Prim on his heels, makes his way to his bedroom. Once both he and the demon are inside, he shuts the door behind him, kicks off his shoes and jacket, then falls backwards onto his bed with a sigh. “Okay, so…” He pauses, realizing he’s not sure where to begin. “Where do we actually start with this?” He asks, watching Prim’s shadowy form settle next to him.
“As I said previously…” Prim’s puddle-like form bubbles, then like a wax statue melting in reverse, a body builds itself up from the black blotch. In but a moment, where there was an ink stain, there is… A cat?
Alan blinks. Sure enough, however, a pure black cat with white, perfectly round eyes now sits just a foot away, staring down at him. Prim’s new form could easily pass for a house cat if no one sees her face.
“I propose a short-term covenant between us,” Prim begins, her cat face a little uncanny with how well it can articulate. The supernatural timbre of her voice is absent now, making her voice sound almost normal, though still androgynous. “One of mutual companionship and exchanged favors. I shall offer you the vast knowledge and capabilities that befit an ancient being of my stature, and in return, I kindly request your assistance in comprehending the complexities of this modern world.”
“I thought you were a wolf?”
The cat seems to be caught flat-footed by the non sequitur, as she furrows her brow and levels him with a stare. “Pardon?”
“You were a wolf like an hour ago,” Alan sits up and gives her a sidelong glance. “Why a cat now?”
Prim’s tail flicks in apparent annoyance. “I am, at once, everything that has stalked in the unknowable dark. Ergo, there are few limits to my shape.” As if to prove a point, her entire body ripples like a disturbed liquid. The darkness forming her body breaks down and shifts, as if manipulated by a thousand, tiny hands. She takes the shape of a crow that caws a scratchy note, then a snake that rears back and hisses, then a bat that shrieks shrilly, and finally returns back to a cat, all in the span of just a few seconds. “I will not begrudge you the desire to rest, but if you wish to lay upon your back, then I would need to stand over you so we might speak face-to-face.”
“Nifty,” Alan hums. Then smirks and laughs inwardly to himself. “A cat is fine, too.”
“…Indeed,” Prim nods, the joke obviously going over her head. “Now, on to what we were discussing.”
“Right, the covenant, or the pact, or whatever it is.” Alan lays back down, folding his hands behind his head and laying on them. “So, what first?”
“Firstly, we shall set our terms. I believe you to have a general grasp of what I wish to acquire, but I will lay them out in no uncertain terms so that we suffer no misunderstandings.” Prim sits and wraps her tail around her front paws. “I ask you to enlighten me on the significant historical events, technological advancements, and societal changes that have transpired since my dormancy. Your perspective shall prove invaluable in understanding the evolution of your kind. This will grant me insight into the customs and manners that govern human interactions in this age. As I am accustomed to a more formal and elaborate mode of discourse, your guidance will be instrumental in adapting my communication style to better suit the expectations of your contemporaries.”
‘No joke. You talk like you’re rehearsing for theater.’
“Additionally, I ask that you share with me your personal experiences and emotions, as well as those of the people around you. I seek to understand the ennui and disconnection that seemingly plagues your society.” She looks away briefly. “What I’ve seen thus far is… Disconcerting.”
‘Nothing that a weekend out and about and a visit to Wikipedia can’t fix.’ Alan nods. “Okay, sure. That all seems kind of generalized, though. Is there anything in particular that you want? Just trying to make sure.”
Prim shakes her head in a no. “Should there be a particular experience or material thing that I desire outside of these conditions, I will speak with you regarding the feasibility of acquisition and what would constitute as worthy repayment.”
“Hmm…” Alan clicks his tongue. “That’s awfully… Understanding. I’m sorry if this comes off as stereotyping or something, but I was under the impression that demons wanted souls, or limbs, or the promises of firstborn children or something.” He watches his ceiling fan slowly turn, noting with a bit of annoyance that one of the light bulbs is going dim again. “Can’t do human sacrifices either. Surveillance and crime investigation is way more sophisticated now than it used to be.”
If the demon is offended, then it doesn’t show. “While it is indeed true that the denizens of the dark desire the fragments of divinity within humanity above all else, I will refrain from asking for such things. As previously stated, I wish for this pact to be one of mere companionship and reciprocated assistance for now.”
“And if I ask for something so big that only a soul or something like that is worth trading?” Alan gives her a hard look, one eyebrow raised.
“Then I will advise you of such and ask you to revise your request,” Prim calmly answers. “I will not expect recompense for gifts freely given, either. Though, in the interest of maintaining a fair and equitable partnership, do not expect such gifts from me often.”
“Okay…” Alan pauses and considers his next question. “Besides just having you around, what do I get in return for helping you out?”
Prim’s chest puffs up. “I can offer you counsel and wisdom on matters that weigh heavily on your mind, drawing from the boundless knowledge I have accumulated over eons. With this experience, I can provide you with a unique perspective on life and existence, one borne of my antiquity. If you so wish, I will also assist you in the endeavors you undertake in your daily life by lending you my formidable powers. The terms of our covenant and the moral compass that guide you are the only limits,” she says, sounding like a boastful advertisement.
Alan can’t help but narrow his eyes in suspicion. This all sounds too good to be true. “Nah, I’m not buying it.”
That throws Prim for a loop. She blinks her large eyes and tilts her head. “Buying it? There is no initial price to be paid,” she says, apparently not understanding the figure of speech.
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“No no, I mean, there is no way that is the long and short of it,” Alan sits up once more, crossing his legs and resting his arms in his lap. He gives Prim a searching look, but she doesn’t fidget or squirm under his gaze. “Everything you told me is way too straightforward, too fair. What’s the catch? Does this all have to be in writing, so you can add conditions when I’m not looking? Is there something you’re not telling me?” He crosses his arms. “It’s never that easy.”
The shadowy feline stares at him for a long moment. “I… Understand your concerns and where they may come from. The nature of my being does not lend credence to my words, does it?” She shifts on her paws, thinking for a moment. “But I assure you that deceit is not my goal tonight. I swear upon my station as Eldest and Greatest of The Unknown, that the words I’ve spoken to you are true.”
As Prim utters those words, there is a flash of pressure that hits the room, for Alan simply doesn’t have another word to describe the feeling. For a moment too short to truly appreciate, it’s as if the air turns to concrete, both weighing him down and trapping him in place at once. A second later, the feeling is gone, and Alan feels cold sweat on his brow.
Blinking, he tries to find his voice, and finally does so after nearly ten seconds of silence. “Well then…” He gulps. “That felt… new.”
“Vows such as that are not lightly given, as the consequence of breaking one’s word in such cases is the very definition of dire,” Prim nods. Despite her eyes being white circles, Alan can feel their keen focus upon his own. “Should you choose to decline, I shall respect your decision and be gone, but what I ask from you is not irreplaceable.”
Blowing out a sigh, the man reaches his hand up and scratches his chin. He’s probably due for a shave in the morning. “Okay,” his hand drops back to his lap, “this is just a temporary thing, right? We can call it off whenever?”
Prim’s eyes narrow. “It would behoove us both to see the pact to its end.”
“And if we hate each other? What if you discover you can’t stand me a week from now? Or I suddenly find my faith in God tomorrow?” Alan challenges, crossing his arms. “If we’re stuck together and someone changes their mind, what then? You can’t have possibly accounted for every possible occurrence.”
Prim’s white eyes thin themselves into slits. Above, the dim light bulb in the ceiling fan dies with a sputter, and the other two flicker, as if ready to give out. The shadows in the room seem to lengthen, their edges growing sharper despite the soft light.
‘Well fuck. Make the million-year-old eldritch cat-wolf-god mad, why don’t you, Alan?’
The demon stops, then takes a deep, chest-filling breath before sighing. “Very well,” she begins, each word reluctant. “Know this, Alan.” She fixes him with a soul-piercing stare. “It galls me no small amount to add yet another condition, one which is ripe for abuse, to our temporary partnership. I believe that I have been quite generous and accommodating thus far, but I shall agree as a token of goodwill. Should either of us find the company of the other too detestable, then I will not protest a premature cessation of our accord, but I shall add my own condition as well!” She tilts her head once more, her serious face easing just a little. “Upon the premature breaking of the pact, all debts owed to either party must be paid in full. Do you find this agreeable?”
Alan nods. He doesn’t bring his hand up to his chest, but he can feel his heart beating from the adrenaline surge that just shot through him. ‘…The more I think about it, the more I think I shouldn’t have pushed my luck. Needing to pay everything in full could be... Damn, I really gotta be careful what I ask for now. I don’t want her trying to collect all at once.’
The demon’s severe expression drops off, replaced with a small smile. “Thank you, Alan. I am heartened by your decision, and hope our partnership is fruitful.” As an afterthought, she adds: ”Your courage before me is commendable, but it would do you well to take care with other Great Powers, for they may not be so patient.”
“Right, I forgot that you might not be the only one…” The man mutters. “Whatever, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”
“In order to formalize our alliance-” Prim continues on, ignoring his mumbles. “-we shall engage in a simple yet solemn ritual to bind our fates together for the duration of our agreement. Truly, there are a number of different rituals which would serve our purpose quite well, but for a temporary joining, we require only minimal supplies.”
With an exaggerated grunt of exertion, Alan rises off of his bed, walks to his desk, and retrieves a half-filled pad of paper and a pen. Sitting back down and clicking his pen, he turns to Prim expectantly. “Okay, hit me.”
“… Why would I strike you?
“Right, well, modern English is at the top of the to-do list, then.”
----------------------------------------
The list of ritual items Prim provided Alan proved to be as simple to acquire as she said. The pair needed only a candle and some salt, both of which were already in the apartment.
“That should about do it,” Alan stands and inspects the circle of salt on his bedroom floor. In the middle is a single candle, vanilla scent, ready to be lit. “This is going to be a bitch to vacuum out of my carpet, though.”
“Well done,” Prim nods, trotting around the perimeter of the circle. Her cat form has been abandoned in favor of that of a wolf, though she’s an average size this time. “Somewhat oblong, but it will serve its purpose all the same.”
“In what purpose will that be?” Alan asks, placing the empty salt shaker on his desk and instead grabbing his lighter.
“Salt,” Prim begins, stepping over the circle and seating herself by the candle, “represents protection and preservation. Many humans in the days of old used circles of salt to contain spirits and demons of a weaker nature. Just as it can contain, so too can it protect. Used in this manner where two parties come together upon equal ground to form an agreement, the salt circle shall be our protection against unintended consequences and outside influences.”
‘Seems like a stretch, but whatever. I’m not the magic expert.’ Alan hums. “And the candle?”
“A single candle between two individuals represents unity, it's flame the illumination of a new, shared path,” she explains. “White candle wax, such as this one-“ she taps the glass candle holder with a paw -“typically represents purity, but white is also a neutral color and can be devoid of meaning if need be.”
God, where in the world is she getting these explanations? Alan steps into the circle and sits down, crossing his legs. “This all seems like mumbo-jumbo to me. Why is the salt protective? And who decided what the candle colors mean? Hell, what does the ritual even do? Is not saying “I agree” enough?”
“I can explain the nature of symbolism and its relationship to magick later,” Prim flicks one of her ears. “Regarding the ritual, it will tie us together in the most basic of ways. I will be able to hear your call wherever you might be, and you will be offered protection from most forms of unintentional harm that would have otherwise befallen you in the presence of my powers. There are other facets, but these are the most important.”
‘Symbolism and its relationship to magic, huh?’ Alan twirls his lighter between his fingers. ‘That… Honestly, it seems like it would be pretty cool to learn about. Some hows and whys of all the kooky shit on the news would be nice to have. Maybe I can even learn some magic myself? Fireball, motherfucker!’
“Now, please allow me to explain, as to perform the ritual correctly, you must follow these instructions to the best of your ability.” The demon sniffs. “As our first step, please light the candle.”
Alan holds his lighter out. He has to flick the used-up flint wheel a few times, but on the fourth try, he lights the candle wick, slowly filling the room with a cheap, vanilla scent.
“When I turn out the lights overhead, extend your right hand, palm facing to the side, not upwards or downwards, over the candle,” Prim continues. “I shall place my own hand just short of yours. This gesture signifies our mutual willingness to engage in a partnership of shared trust.”
“What hand?” Alan raises an eyebrow and looks at the wolf’s flat, black paws.
“I am a shapeshifter, Alan. Surely you remember? Now hush and allow me to finish sometime before the morn,” Prim chides. “Before we join hands, you must recite the following words: "In the presence of The Primordial Darkness, Eldest and Greatest of The Unknown I, Alan Conan, willingly enter this covenant of mutual companionship. May our alliance be guided by respect, wisdom, and curiosity, as we explore the realms of the known and unknown together."
‘I really need to ask what an Unknown is, and who the others are if Prim is the oldest one.’ Alan nods. “Got it.”
Prim smiles. Her teeth are a stark, startling white against her mouth. “Upon the completion of this recitation, I shall reciprocate by uttering a similar vow, affirming my commitment to our accord. Finally, we shall clasp our hands together briefly, sealing our covenant and marking the beginning of our shared journey. Take care to clasp my hand palm-to-palm. Do not take my wrist or lace your fingers with mine.”
“Why just palm-to-palm?” Alan asks, his nose twitching from the obnoxiously strong scent of the candle. ‘Ech. Why did I buy this thing again?
“Clasping wrists is used for long-term contracts, and doing so would cause a ritual as simple as this one to fail.” Prim’s smile is falling, and Alan has to wonder if she’s getting annoyed by the interruptions. “Lacing fingers is reserved for contracts of an intimate sort. I am no succubus, so once more, the ritual will fail. A fresh candle and salt circle will be required in either case.”
Oh shit. Succubi are real?
“Have you memorized everything?” Prim cuts off Alan’s daydream before it can truly begin. “If I am forced to interrupt the ritual to remind you, the effects may be diminished.”
“Yep,” Alan balances his elbow on his knee, then props his head up in his hand. “Ready.”
Prim looks over her shoulder at the light switch. The switch wiggles, then flips off at the touch of an unseen finger, leaving the candle as the only source of illumination.
From the corner of his eye, Alan watches as the shadows around the room begin to move and writhe like masses of snakes all slithering over each other. The darkness becomes oppressive and closes in, swallowing the dimmed computer monitor on his desk and seeping past the ring of salt on the carpet. In nary a second, only a tiny circle remains lit by the candle.
The outline of Prim’s body is completely lost in the blackness around her, leaving only her teeth and eyes visible. Both features begin to twist and engorge before Alan’s very eyes, once more taking on the same monstrous grin that stared down at him from the ceiling just the night before. A thrill of alarm runs through him, flushing his veins with ice water, as the grinning visage begins to rise higher into the air. The man can only presume that the demon is shape-shifting into something much larger than she was previously, but he can’t see what.
‘Don’t wuss out now,’ Alan sighs and stiffly holds his hand out, palm oriented just as Prim instructed.
A downright enormous appendage comes from the gloom on Prim’s side of the candle. The candlelight reveals a bastardized fusion of an animal paw and a hand. With its fingers splayed, the pitch-black hand could grasp a dinner plate edge-to-edge. Each of the five fingers is tipped in a claw just as black as the rest of the hand. The only exceptions are the edges and points of the claws, which gleam like sharpened steel. Prim’s hand mirror’s his own, hovering above the candle with her palm facing his.
Prim’s glowing eyes blink, and Alan starts when he realizes he needs to say his line.
“Uh,” Alan clears his throat. “In the presence of The Primordial Darkness… Eldest and Greatest of The Unknown, I… Erm, Alan Conan, willingly enter this covenant of mutual companionship. May our alliance be guided by respect, wisdom, and… and curiosity, as we explore the realms of the known and unknown together."
“In the presence of Alan Conan, a Son of Holy Adam, I, The Primordial Darkness, Eldest and Greatest of The Unknown,” Prim doesn’t so much as miss a beat, “willingly enter this covenant of mutual companionship. May our alliance be guided by respect, wisdom, and curiosity, as we explore the realms of the known and unknown together."
‘No turning back now. I am about to make a deal with a real, live demon.’ There is a moment of hesitation, of wondering what the consequences are going to be if he grasps Prim’s hand. ‘If demons are real… That means that God, Angels, and all that jazz must be real as well, right? If I do this, am I damning myself? Am I permanently throwing my lot in with demons, even if this particular arrangement is temporary? I haven’t read the Bible in a while, but I don’t remember consorting with demons being something that is ever forgiven…’
He looks up, meeting Prim’s eyes. The great, luminescent orbs stare down at him unwaveringly. Despite knowing that he, a regular old human, can’t possibly fathom what is going on in Prim’s head, he still meets her gaze.
One doesn’t live in this world and not know how to gauge others. If people go without this necessary skill, then they’re ripe for being abused.
For Alan, that lesson didn’t take long to sink in.
In the twin moons set into Prim’s eye sockets, there is little to see, but it’s precisely what Alan doesn’t see that makes the choice for him.
‘Fuck it. I wasn’t going to Heaven, anyway.’
His palm meets Prim’s with a muted thud, and her fingers wrap around his entire hand, covering it in the sensation of chilled fur.
The candle goes out, and all that is visible in the dark is Prim’s pleased grin.