I’m A Demon Summoner, Damn It!

Called Away From Home



I winced while rubbing the tender part of my bad leg. I had it propped up on pillows I kept on the couch for this exact reason. The dark blue cushions felt good against my heel. I unconsciously placed my cane across my lap. Sighing in relief I lean back against the long couch. Being the only Arch Summoner did have it’s perks, like having the biggest salary in the whole damn city. Then again, most don’t live long enough to even get this far. Most of the poor fuckers end up dying before they hit thirty, or end up in “Voluntary Retirement”. Which was a fancy way of saying “you’re damaged goods and we can’t afford to keep you on, so here’s a shitty little retirement fund that’ll be gone in a month.”

I closed my eyes, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all while staring up at my solid gray ceiling. The rain hadn’t let up yet, beating an uneven rhythm against my windows. I had the curtains pulled closed to muffle the racket. Didn’t accomplish much, but it was less noise in my ears. I tilted my head to the right and spotted the rectangular remote sitting on the dresser next to an old lamp. With little else to do, I picked it up and turned to the small, box-like TV set a few feet in front of me. A press of the red power button and the device roared to life. The fake wooden surface along its sides pulsated with blue, demonic energy as an image appeared on the screen.

“And, in our latest story, the demon Hufmag was recently captured by the Arch Summoner himself, Crowley Fultor!” I had to mentally restrain myself from changing the channel. The last thing I needed to hear was those assholes using my name to get people to watch their crappy show! Unfortunately, it was unlikely I’d find anything good to watch on any of the other channels. This city wasn’t exactly known for being a “fun place to live”. More for the giant demonic azure eye constantly looking down on us for above. Or the fact that you could hear demons screaming from the middle of the city all the way to the outskirts day in and day out.

The only real activities the citizens partook in were working, getting drunk, fucking, or something in between all that. The majority figured that’s all their lives would be unless they became a Demon Summoner. Then all their worries would magically disappear.

I’m living proof of how that sentiment is a blatant lie. Not that the talking heads known as “reporters” would ever say that. No, they’d rather perpetuate the lie. Just like they were doing now.

“As you can see by these scorch marks,” the young male reporter knelt next to where Crowley had cornered Hufmag. A gloved hand lightly touched the burnt ground where he had summoned the Binders, “It seems the Arch Summoner called forth two tamed demons to assist him in apprehending the rogue one. Based on how the rain is having difficulty washing the marks away, I conclude that the demons he summoned were quite powerful.”

I didn’t know whether to scoff at his ignorance or nod at his knowledge. He had clearly done his research, but he was playing it up for the audience. Binders were a Mid-Tier Entry Level Demon at best. All Summoners are taught the ritual to bring them out after their second weeks of study. If you can’t manage that much, then you’ll never make it to Summoner.

“Hmm, and can you tell us anything else about what happened, Marco?” the newscaster asked with a voice rich with superiority.

“Only that the Rogue Demon Hufmag made a big mistake trying to run from the Arch Summoner,” the young man turned to look at the camera with a big stupid grin to match his big bright eyes, “Regular Summoners are some of the strongest people in Melphis, but the Arch Summoner has to be a completely different level. Trying to run from him is like trying to outrun death! It’s just not gonna happen!”

“You seem to be quite confident in Mr. Fultor’s abilities,” the man turned to look at the screen above him to the right, his long cloak moving with him. I caught the way his lips twitched, knowing what he was trying to do.

And, unfortunately, the kid walked right into, “Why wouldn’t I? He’s the best of the best. The Pride of Melphis and the first Summoner to reach his rank in thirty years. I can’t imagine a single person who can equal him.”

“Funny you should say that,” the fucker turned back to the television camera, his smug grin daring me to try to punch him through my TV, “Because we recently gained new information regarding the Arch Summoner. Supposedly, he-“

The TV clicked off the moment I pressed the button. I gently placed the remote down on the rug, then laid my head against the pillow. Last thing I needed while nursing my leg was to hear untrue removes about my personal life be presented as fact by an asshole who’s probably never seen a demon in his life. Instead, I stared at the ceiling until my eyes started to get heavy. I’m not gonna be going anywhere for a while. Might as well get some of those rare moments of sleep while I can. Who knows? Maybe my dreams will be pleasant for once.

The familiar, irritating sound of knocking put that plan to rest while waking me up.

I groaned with all the frustration I could muster before grabbing my cane. The bottom of my cane hit the rug with a soft thump. I pushed myself up and rolled my body to place my feet against the floor. Wincing as I put weight on my bad leg, I got to my feet. Three more knocks, more insistent this time, echoed through the house in an annoying rhythm.

“Fuck’s sake I hear you!” I shout more to make myself feel better. Not like they could hear me with how thick my door was. I get to the door right when they knock again and wave my hand over the black wood with blue patterns painted on it. I lean forward to looking through the peephole and immediately sigh at who I see beyond it. I briefly consider pretending to not be home. Then I remember the last time I did that.

With a defeated shake of my head, I wave my hand over the wavy blue paint on the door. The enchantments built into them fizzles out until the door opens of its own volition. I stare into the eyes of the familiar, blue-skinned woman standing a few feet away from my door. Her frowning face and azure streaked brunette hair done up in twin pigtails that trailed behind her. Her thick, black raincoat covered her whole body to keep the rain off. She looked up at me with milky white eyes, her rounded nose wrinkling at the smell of sulfur in the air. She spoke with a voice that sounded like she was gargling gravel, “Crowley.”

“Eliza,” I said with a clearly forced smile, “To what do I owe the pleasure? Did Hufmag get loose again? Cause if so, you can go ahead and leave. Once is a mistake, but if those dumbass technicians lost him twice then they need to be replaced. I’d tell ‘em myself, but I don’t exactly feel like-“

“Moldo wants to see you.”

My tirade dies in my throat. I stare Eliza down with an unamused expression. Maybe if I keep it up, she’ll say she’s joking and leave.

...Who am I kidding? That won’t work.

“Urgh, let me get my coat,” I go back into my house, closing the door behind me while moving upstairs. Guess I’m gonna have to put off my plan to rest for the day, again. But there’s no use in complaining. It’s not like I could refuse a personal call from the Magos of Melphis himself.

Well, I could.

But I owe the guy way too much to do that.

Let’s just hope he’s not going to make me do something too crazy this time.


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