Chapter Text
The moon rose shining light into an apartment’s windows as the person within drew a circle around a star. Lit candles made the atmosphere even more eerie as the man left to grab a small steak knife from within his kitchen. He looked at the book that he carried around and gave a small chuckle, grabbing a wine glass from nearby, “This is the dumbest shit that I’ve ever done and I ain’t even drunk or high for this mess, but whatever.”
He grabbed a knife from a drawer and held his hand over the wine glass. The man groaned as he brought the sharp point of the knife close to his skin, biting his lip in readiness. He hissed through his teeth as the jagged blade stuck into his skin and he felt the warmth of his blood run down his palm, dripping into the wine glass. He moved the knife away, almost practically tossing it as he squeezed his throbbing, burning wound to allow more blood to go into the glass.
After a few more seconds, he moved his hand away and quickly grabbed a paper towel to wrap up his cut, cursing underneath his breath at the burning pain. The man wished that he had a first aid kit or even just a band aid nearby. He was too used to getting his bruises or marks cleaned up at the studio or by his friends.
After placing so many paper towels on his hand that he’s on the tree’s FBI Most Wanted list, he brought the wine glass filled with a swallow of blood into the center of the pentagram. He mumbled to himself, “What you’re doin’ is really fuckin’ stupid, Anthony, but it seemed like a funny idea, so fuck it.”
The man, Anthony, took the book from the kitchen counter and walked back over to the pentagram, making sure that he had marked everything accordingly to what he saw in the picture. He gave a small shrug as he sat down in front of the pentagram, looked over the odd language in the book, and read the words aloud. ….And nothing happened.
Anthony looked around for the slightest of changes. You know, the usual schtick: Burnt out candles, open windows, random wind, or blood dripping down walls. Anything like that. He tried reading the words again and...again...not even the smallest of change. He sighed as he tossed the book over his shoulder, muttering in dissatisfaction, “I bet if I was high or trippin’ on acid I would see some crazy shit. Welp, the landlord's gonna be pissed!”
The man brushed back his poofy hair with his non-wounded hand and turned to go to bed. However, the moment he took a step he heard someone clear their throat. Anthony quickly whipped around to see a brownish-greyed skinned man wearing the most amount of red that he had ever seen on a person, while also having red hair that seemed to be shaped like ears...somehow. The man spoke, sounding as if he was speaking through some shitty receiver, “My apologies for the lack of fanfare and overall spooks, I had just finished making dinner before getting so rudely interrupted! Didn’t wish to cause any damage to the roast, so I decided to drop in. Although, the look of surprise never gets old~”
Anthony noticed the golden sharp teeth of the man and wondered how he was able to speak without biting off his tongue. Not only that, but he wondered if he secretly did take some ecstasy or slammed down a bottle of cough syrup. He looked around and asked, “Um, are ya-”
“The demon that you called? Well, I’m certainly not the mailman,” The demon chuckled. He watched the, unbelievably tall, man stand up and walk up to the wine glass, picking it up and swirling the thick liquid within as if it were actually wine. Anthony wasn’t sure what he expected the demon to do with the blood, but still seeing him drink it down caused the human to shiver. He started, “Uh, I’m-”
“Anthony Dust, 28, bit of a drug and alcohol addiction, sex worker, and you may want to watch some of those freckles on that easily tearable skin of yours. I am Alastor,” the demon spoke as he gave a polite bow. Anthony blinked at him in shock and questioned, “Uh, how do you-”
“Your blood tells me all that I need to know about you. Although, I will say that it wasn’t much, most people would give a whole pint to me.”
“Are ya evah gonna let me fin-”
Al interrupted with a grin, “Probably not! Now,” he summoned a microphone cane, spinning it around between his fingers, and finished, “what have you summoned me for~?”
The demon’s eyes glowed a slight crimson as his grin grew in excitement of what the mortal may bring or tell him. Anthony stared up at the tall demon and then made a noise at remembering what he called him for. He quickly ran into his bedroom, disappeared for a few seconds, and then came running out with a sparking, smoking radio. He placed it on a table nearby and slightly moved away from the radio, staring up at a confused Alastor, who was still smiling. The demon blinked and started, “Uh...what i-”
Anthony explained, “You’re the radio demon, right? So, like, can ya fix my radio? I don’t really got the money to buy a new one or get it fixed or...I don’t know, throw it inna river and risk pollutin’ it.”
Alastor blinked at him more and said, “Uh...no, I- no. No, I don’t...I’m not called that because I fixed radios, you moron!”
The mortal stared at him with his mouth agape and shouted, “What the hell! Why are ya called “The Radio Demon” then!? I ain’t got anythin’ else that needs fixin’! What am I supposed ta do with this thing!?”
Anthony gestured to the now flaming radio behind him, not even noticing that it was on fire. Alastor’s eyes widened, as well as his smile, and he got out from the makeshift pentagram, going over to the radio. He snapped his fingers and a bucket of water appeared over it, splashing the radio’s flames. The human got shocked at seeing him leave the pentagram and questioned, “How the fuck didja get outta there!?”
Alastor swiftly turned to him and snapped, “Because that’s not even a proper pentagram, most would use their own blood or even something mixed with holy water! What was that? Some chalk and whatever else you used!? I’m surprised it even worked!”
The fluffy haired man scoffed as he muttered, “Merda ingrata. Non c'è bisogno di essere così fottutamente maleducato. Yes, I used chalk and tape. I’m sorry that I didn’t fucking go to my local pharmacy ta get some goddamn holy wa-”
He trailed off at seeing the demon’s eyes turn into radio dials as he practically towered over him, making Anthony shrink underneath his gaze and stop talking. Alastor took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. He growled, “Could you just make a deal with me so I can leave this sheer stupidity?”
Anthony rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around and saw a few dishes that were peeking out of the sink. He suggested, “Uh, you can clean some dishes.”
Al’s eye twitched as he snarled, “Are you serious? Is that it? No one you want killed? Nothin-”
A hard knock came on a wall nearby as a voice barked, “Hey, shut the fuck up, damn faggot!”
The demon’s eyes glowed as he snapped his fingers in that direction. A few seconds of silence came before the blood-curdling screams came from the neighbor, including visceral cracking sounds and what sounded like begging. The shrieking became more gurgled after a while before it finally became silent.
Alastor’s eyes turned back to normal and he seemed to get small dark circles underneath his eyelids. He looked down at Anthony,who stared up at him with eyes as wide as dinner plates, with a tired grin and sighed, “I’m going to go eat your neighbor. We will talk about this more.”
He then suddenly disappeared and Antony was quick to lock the door, trying to pretend this didn’t just happen and ignore the terrifying growling and nauseating wet tearing sounds happening next door.