Avarus Invidia (III): Demon Summons And Other Dark Rituals

--- Booker H. Freeman ---

“Hmm…”

While the Death Game could be fun, regardless of whether or not death was temporary he would only enter if he knew he could win.

(Envy: Which we might not as reduced as we are.)

A similar reasoning prevented him from either aiding his descendant or taking on a student under the current circumstances, and thus “While there are some intriguing options, I think I’ll go with the summoner with the sacrifices.” He told Hemingway as he handed the glass device back. “That seems like the one most fitting for my current purposes.” (After all, I don’t think I’ve killed anyone today.)

“Of course sir.” The red manager bowed with a smile before moving back to the machine. After a moment the spell circuit on the ground began to glow with a violet light. “There you are sir. I hope you have a profitable summoning.”

“I’m sure I will.” He smiled back as Hemingway turned to leave.

(Greed: Don’t let him forget what we’re owed.)

“Just as I’m sure you’ll have my things sorted by the time I get back.” He added with narrowed eyes before the manager could leave.

“O-of course sir.” Hemingway squeaked, both visibly shaking and sweating in fear.

“Good~” He grinned with a mouth full of fangs.

(Lust: Oh, and don’t forget about Lydia!)

He turned towards his companion with a much more genial smile, “Is there anything you’d like while he’s out, my dear?”

“Uh,” Lydia blinked, put on the spot, her eyes darting between him and the cowering Hemingway. “Do… do you have any ice cream? Or pizza?”

“Oh, that does sound lovely.” He chuckled, not actually knowing what pizza was, but recognizing ice cream as a frozen treat. “Doesn’t it, Hemingway?”

“Y-yes sir.” The manager nodded.

“Then go get the girl her treats.” He ordered with a nod towards the door.

“R-right away sir!” Hemingway shouted before fleeing, allowing the doors to slam shut behind him.

The room was silent beyond the sparking of the spell circle in the center of the room as he watched Lydia fiddle with some drink she’d pulled from the ice box.

“So, uh, you… you’re really some kind of big shot around here, huh?” The young woman eventually asked.

(Pride: Of course we are.)

(Greed: It’s what we’re owed.)

(Sloth: We’ve put in more than enough work for it.)

(Envy: And paid plenty of blood that isn’t ours…)

“Hm, it would appear so wouldn’t it.” He smiled with a wry grin, having just realized what she had. “Though as he said, I haven’t been to this particular branch before.”

“Branch of what?” Lydia pressed, her eyes locked onto him. “I mean, you were talking about accounts and turning… Anima into Sin?”

“Ah, yes… well…” He tapped his chin, trying to piece together the memories of magical theory he’d just regained a few days prior. “Have you ever heard of Demon Summoning or the similar?”

“Yeah…” Lydia glanced at the circle and then him. “You’re the Demon someone is summoning?”

“Well, what else would I be?” He wondered with a touch of amusement, after all, (The fact that I’m a Demon might be the first thing I remembered about myself.)

(Envy: Well, that and the insanity.)

(That too.)

Lydia’s eyes were locked onto the circle with an intense gaze. “So… that circle, it’ll take you back to… back to earth?”

(Lust: She’s desperate for a way home… Her real home…)

(Envy: You’re going to have to break her heart…)

(Sloth: Better to rip the bandage off now…)

(Gluttony: The pain will make her stronger…)

(Greed: A fair trade in this world.)

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“For a time.” He sighed, his own eyes drifting towards the circle. “The summoner uses magic to call forth an entity -not always a Demon- to help them in exchange for Anima, life, magic, power, money, favors… The payment varies, but the moment the magic spent on the summoned entity will return from where they came from.”

(Envy: There are ways to extend that stay but…)

(Greed: There’s a price on that time and…)

(Gluttony: Death hungers for what’s hers.)

(How delightfully ominous…) He smiled to himself.

“So even if I could go back I couldn’t…” Lydia trailed off with a dreadful frown before shaking her head and giving him a determined look. “That doesn’t matter. What do I have to do to go back, just for a day?”

(Pride: Intelligence and drive.)

(Greed: Lots of money.)

(Lust: Friends don’t hurt.)

(Envy: Magic doesn’t hurt…)

(Gluttony: Savagery and dignity.)

(Wrath: Strength of will.)

(Sloth: Minions to do the work for you.)

“Well… I suppose you’d have to have a certain level of… ability that someone would want to summon you for whatever reason they may have for your talents.” He summarized his scattered thoughts, before waving a hand at the lavish room around them. “At that point you register with this lot and they middleman the whole affair for you, collecting service fees for successful contracts and similar. Though you will have to work your way up to all of this.”

He was sure there was significantly more to it than just that, -(Envy: There is.)- but given how he was working off largely theoretical magical knowledge and his own observations since arriving, that was the best he could offer his young companion at this time.

Lydia nodded as she licked her lips in thought before giving him another look. “And what do people summon you for? What are your ‘talents’?”

“Why, my dear, haven’t you figured that out yet?” He smiled with a mouth full of fangs before letting out an amused huff as he thought about the contracts he’d seen. “People summon me when they want the power to do something they can’t.”

(Envy: Defining pretty much every summon there is.)

(Lust: Shh, you’re ruining the dramatic flair!)

His young companion looked like she was about to ask something else, when the doors opened and another of the horned folk -neither the clerk from earlier nor Hemingway- walked in with their head bowed and a bucket of ice cream and a large square box of something else in their hands. “N-neopolitan and p-pepperoni!”

“Uh, thanks?” The moment Lydia accepted the box, the deliverer promptly fled without another word. (How rude.) “That was… fast.”

“Really? I’ve never ordered pizza before.” He confessed as Lydia set the ice cream on the counter.

“Yeah… I didn’t even know there was pizza down here.” Lydia admitted herself with a perplexed look before opening the box and peeking inside. “And it looks like normal pizza…”

“Well, I’ll just have to try some. After all, I do so enjoy eating.” He smiled, feeling that gnawing ache in his belly as his mouth began to water at the smell of the pizza.

(Gluttony: Maybe it’ll go well with the aftertaste of our summoner’s flesh~)

“Heh, why, my stomach practically has a mind of its own!” He laughed.

“Uh, yeah…” His companion nodded with a (beautifully) wry grin as she set the box on the counter. “There’s plenty here for both of us.”

“And you should be sure to eat your fill. It’ll give you something to do while I work up my own appetite.” He told her as turned towards the spell circle while adjusting his attire. (I have to make a proper first impression.)

He paused before glancing down at his hand and noting that while his skin wasn’t exactly skin yet, the black tendrils had loosely formed the shape of a hand and did have skin up to his wrist. (Almost but not quite. Still…)

“It’s time to make some Sin and leave some smiles!” He grinned as he stepped into the center of the circle and immediately heard a spell song begin to thrum through the air.

The violently violet glow of the spell circle grew brighter as the shadows grew darker, the electricity dancing along its surface draining the light with crackling glee. Its power building as the light of the circle beneath him seemed to spin faster and faster, the song bound to it growing to an ever higher crescendo before in a flash of light he felt a wave of heat wash over him.

When the heat cooled he realized he was in a place significantly different from where he’d just been, and in a state that while familiar was unintended.

Crossing his stitched furred hands behind his back he took a gander around the room with crimson eyes, taking in the dark chamber lit by candles, and the spell circle beneath him that was written in blood, and the fact that said bloody circle branched off towards twelve metal coffins of some kind, each propped up with chains hanging down from the ceiling.

(Envy: There’s power in them. The dark kind.)

(Greed: That would be our payment.)

(Pride: A payment contained by coffins made of… a composite of iron and silver? Wait, there’s also… salt on the ground?)

(Envy: Salt works as a purifying agent, and can lock the borders between physical and spiritual. The unrefined iron tends to burn anything unnatural to the world. And silver works as a magical conductor. Can’t tell what’s in them, but they’re giving off a lot of power.)

His stomach growled and his mouth watered just from the feel of what was in those coffins.

(Gluttony: Making me… HuNgRy…)

(Lust: Don’t forget. We’re not alone in here…)

With an act of will his eyes moved from the coffins and to his would be summoner, a pale sickly man roughly in his thirties with dark brown hair and a light beard laid before him wearing a white button up shirt, vest, and glasses. Attire not too dissimilar to his own upon his awakening in the alley Lydia found him. (Though there is one very important difference between us, I believe.)

Namely that while he had survived the attempt on his life, this man had not.

(Pride: A clean incision if a bit rough through the back. Piercing both the kidney and liver at the very least. With the blade removed he’d fall unconscious within seconds, and be dead within minutes.)

(Gluttony: Heh, good instincts.)

(Envy: And both our dark practitioner, and our thirteenth sacrifice. I wonder if he even realizes what he’s done…)

(Wrath: What needed to be done.)

Booker looked up from the dead man and at the boy -roughly Lydia’s age- who in spite of the tears running down his face, protectively held onto an unconscious blonde girl with one hand while using the other to point a bloody blade at the Demon in front of him, at him!

Seeing this, he found that he couldn’t help but smile. “My, my, now isn’t this interesting?”