Number Six is a Half-Broken Mind

story about demons

You’ve to follow proper etiquette, or demons won’t give you the time of day. It only takes six things to reach them, and number one is the book I had from my auntie, along with dire warnings not to use it.

Demons are surprisingly easy to reach; I wasn’t even trying properly, just having a run-through in readiness for when I meant to kill someone. If I meant to kill someone, I mean. Numbers two to five represent the elements. (I had a candle, pot-plant, balloon and a pint of orange-squash. Obviously, I wasn’t expecting it to work.) Demons are specialists – no Jacks-of-all-trades in their land. You respectfully greet every single one as you make your way to the demon you need. Everything’s purple or dirty-emerald coloured, with wonky pillars everywhere and a dark, gloopy river running backwards.

I wasn’t scared – so far as I was concerned, I was just reading. I was making piss-poor attempts at pig-Latin, trying to follow the book, then all of a sudden, I was in front of him. I forget his name. Most likely started with A, B or D, and had a couple of Zs and Us in it. That’s how names work in their culture, so far as I can tell. I remember the feel of him: big and intense, stinking-hot.

It all went to shit then. I’d gone and invited him in, see, and he was waiting to hear what I wanted so he could ‘do my bidding’. It’s their way. Took hours of apologising for wasting his time, praying to Jesus (which was a novelty, as my mouth hadn’t formed that guy’s name for quite a few years) and drawing triangles around myself as protection (that was in the book. Chapter Fourteen: ‘What to do if it all goes to shit’) before he left.

I was sixteen, if you’re wondering. I never did try death by demon-assassination again. So, there’s that I suppose.




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