The old man groaned as he sat up. His heart dropped as he could see nothing but a blinding white void surrounding him. He glanced around frantically, his eyes finally landing on a floating desk a few metres away from him. After a bit, he realised that he was sitting on a hard plastic chair, like one you would find at school.

He raised his hand, shocked at the energy that had suddenly rejuvenated his muscles and bones. It felt like he was twenty again, and was a stark contrast from the terrible aching he had been experiencing a few moments before.

Terrible aching, what was that for again? That’s when it hit him; the last thing he’d seen was the white van. Had it hit him? Was he dead? The white room vaguely reminded him of a hospice room, the type with white pads all over the walls and floor with a large metal bed. He quickly became absorbed in his thoughts. He was on the verge of a panic attack.

He couldn’t be dead, could he?

He was suddenly pulled out of his spiralling thoughts when he heard a sound, almost like someone clearing their throat. “Who’s there?” The old man called out. He tried to stand up, but found himself glued to a chair. Whispering to himself, “ Wasn't this a bed just a second ago?”.

His muscles strained, but he couldn’t raise himself out of the seat. Defeated, he slumped and leaned his head against the backing, staring up into the white void. A dark shape that looked like a sideways eye opened in front of him. Black fire licked upwards from the edges. The inside seemed to be what could only be described as a black hole. The old man instinctively tensed, readying himself for what would come through the gaping hole.

A foot appeared, seemingly spawning from out of nowhere. Then a leg appeared, soon followed by the rest of the figure's body. “My god,” The man gasped,

Standing in front of him was a humanoid figure with red skin. The thing itself was about 10 feet tall, the size of a giant. The only thing it wore was a ragged loincloth around its waist.

The old man looked at the creature's face. It seemed to be perfect and youthful, but . Horns jutted from his head, curling around and ending at his chin. Black patterns danced around his face, moving in a way that reminded the old man of a lava lamp. His eyes were pitch black, and stared directly into the old man’s soul.

The figure spoke. “Do not fear.”

But it was too late, as the old man was shaking in his boots. He tried to stammer out a sentence. “W-W-What a-are you?” He said in a shaking, raspy voice.

The figure kept his composure, and uttered his name. “I am Azareth, demon-kin and a watcher of past souls.”

The old man’s heart dropped. “Am- Am I going to hell?” He asked. The old man had never done much good in his life. He was about the average thug human being in his youth, selfish, prideful, and stuff. He had been all of the seven deadly sins at one point in his life.

The demon laughed, and spoke once more. “No, my young friend. Hell would be no place for you. Not after what you did.”

The man sighed a breath of relief, and asked, “Am I going to heaven?”

Once more, the demon laughed. “No, you don't deserve that either. You are going to be reincarnated into a wonderful world of magic! You see, when you saved your caregiver, you did something great: a cardinal virtue! Since you had no cardinal sins, this cardinal virtue redeemed you.”

The old man tried to digest all the information. Cardinal virtue? Reincarnation? He gathered his thoughts, and muttered to himself, “I thought demons were evil.”

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The demon’s face returned to a neutral position. “Well, demons are not inherently evil—we are just the enforcers of justice. Seeing a demon isn’t a bad thing, but it can be. In this case, it is not,” The demon drew in a smug breath and continued. “Now, to discuss your new… powers—”

“Powers?” The old man cut the demon off.

The demon looked slightly annoyed, but continued talking. “Yes, your powers. The world you’ll be reincarnated into is full of magic. And, you shall gain a special power.”

“Ok…” The old man was curious about what this mystical power could be. “What is it?” He questioned.

“The demon cupped his hands together, and almost out of thin air, produced a smaller demon. It looked around, then hopped down from his hands and onto the desk as the old man stared in wonder.

“Run in a circle,” The demon waved its hand and the smaller demon immediately began running in a circle, around and around, again and again, until the demon snapped his fingers and said, “Stop. Now sit.” The smaller demon stopped and sat down.

The demon smiled, gesturing to the desk where the smaller demon sat. “Your magic is demon control. It is unique—you and only you have the power.” The demon waved his hand, and the smaller imp hopped back into the demon's hands, quickly disappearing. “Go ahead and try for yourself.”

The old man was confused. “How?” He asked.

The demon responded, “Higher ranking demons like me who deal with your human souls only have to visualise it. You're the only human who we have granted this power to. You are not a demon, so we had to enforce a way for you to use it, as our minds work differently. You have to draw a circle.”

Confused, the man asked, “Where?”

“Anywhere you want.” The demon replied. “The air, on a paper. It doesn’t really matter as long as you are trying to summon an imp and are visualising what you want it to do.”

“Okay then.” The old man took a deep breath and started to shakily draw a circle in the air with his pointer finger. Closing his eyes, he visualised a small imp that looked similar to the one on the desk materialising right before his eyes. When he opened them, he saw it. A little imp standing still, just like he had imagined it. He thought about it walking across the desk and back again. It did just that. The old man could do nothing but stand there, perplexed.

The bigger demon crossed his arms. “See, it's as easy as can be.” He said, before asking, “Do you have any questions for me?”

The old man thought for a few moments, before responding, “There’s got to be some catch, right? I mean, you aren't just giving this to me for no reason.

“Well, yes I guess there is what you would call a ‘catch’. Using your power will take energy from your body. It takes more energy to control powerful demons, a large group of demons, or if you control them for a long period of time. You must recover after this, and will be unable to summon or control demons until you have ample energy.”

The man shrugged. “I guess I knew it couldn’t be perfect. It’s still a pretty sweet deal though.” He looked up at the demon. “I’d like to thank you,” He said, “For a second chance. It’s something I would have never dreamed of.”

The demon smiled, the final time that the old man would see the demon smile. “One last thing before I send you down. Although we demons are not evil, the religious zealots will still despise you for your power.”

The old man looked confused. “You mean the churches?” He asked.

The demon nodded. “Yes, I mean the Holy Church,” He spat the words, seemingly hating the subject. “They seem to have a personal vendetta against us. I have no idea why.”

“Could it be because they think demons are evil?” The old man asked.

The demon sighed. “I have no idea. All I do know is that they hate us, and they’re going to hate anything to do with us. So keep that in mind.” The demon took a breath, and asked, “Are you ready?”

The old man confidently spoke. “Yes, I am.”

The demon snapped his fingers, and suddenly the old man began to fall. He closed his eyes as he was enveloped in a golden glow. The last thing he heard before he blacked out was the demon saying, “Good enough.”