Death

At the edge of town, within an abandoned warehouse, a circle of thirteen people covered head to toe in black robes stood around a young girl. She was lying on the concrete floor in a pool of her own blood, within a circle drawn with chalk with symbols at the edges. They were chanting in a language she only barely recognized as Demoniac, the language that demons spoke.

Rowen Nieves had been your average fifteen-year-old with parents who doted on her. They were the kind of parents that most people only dreamed of, and they had been hers until an hour ago. Then their neighbor had shown up with two strange men, and the world as she knew it ended. The strangers, men who looked like they spent a lot of time hanging out at gyms, killed her parents in front of her. Rowen had screamed until her voice gave out. She had thought for sure she was next.

They had surprised her when they drug her away to an abandoned warehouse. The others had been waiting, and the circle had already been drawn. A knife had been thrust into her stomach a moment before they dropped her at the center of the circle.

None of that frightened her the way the demon that was crawling around her half-dead body. It was the color of charcoal with skin that looked like leather and felt rougher still when it touched her. It had two horns that sprouted from its forehead and curved back, reminding her of the gazelle she had seen once at the zoo.

Its deep red eyes watched her, more curious than ominous. Then, finally, it reached out with its clawed hands and touched the side of her face.

"You are dying, child."

It spoke in a voice that was deep and half growling, head tilted to the side.

"I know…"

"Do you wish this?"

Rowen closed her eyes, tried to swallow the saliva in her mouth, and coughed up blood instead. She could feel herself fading. Do I want to die? Wouldn't it be better to let go and join my parents? The voices from the chant drifted to her ears, and she felt a heat suddenly well up inside her. It felt as if it were a living creature within her.

She opened her eyes to look at the demon before her.

"No."

"What do you wish?"

"I-I want them all to suffer like my parents did. To suffer three times as much."

The demon smiled and revealed a mouth full of pointed off-white teeth.

"Good. I wish for a body to exist in this world."

That was bad; Rowen knew that was bad. She knew that there were people who worked with demons, who summoned them. There were laws, rules that Summoners had to abide obey. There were also stories of wayward souls possessed by demons. Those never ended well. She could not remember precisely why. Her brain was incapable of recalling much at the moment.

"I'm not a Summoner. I don't want to be possessed…."

Her brows lowered as she tried to frown, though that simple action felt sluggish and half-hearted.

"I desire neither. To summon is to bind; I will not be bound. To possess is to weaken; I will not be weakened.

"No, I offer you a partnership. I will give you use of my strength, my power, and in return, you will let me experience the world. It has been a long time, and I miss sweets. Humans excel at decadence."

Should I do it? Is it worth it? "Deal. I will be your partner."

The demon's grin widened, and it let out a laugh. It was the thing of nightmares and filled the area. The laughter caused the robed figures to falter in their chants as a moment of fear overtook them.

"I think it's finally taken the offering."

One of the robed figures spoke, and the others nodded in agreement, but what they saw next confused them. Instead of consuming the girl, the demon's body melted into hers. It looked as if the demon's body had been a candle exposed to heat as flesh and bones melted and covered her.

She screamed, and it was high-pitched enough to leave ears ringing long after the sound had died away. As she screamed, her back bowed, nearly folding her in half, then came the sound of bones breaking. Her body appeared to melt in the same way that the demons had. Then came the sound like glass breaking, and smoke poured out to cover the body.

"What's going on?"

The one who had spoken a moment ago spoke up again as he glanced at the others. They all seemed as confused as he was.

"I-I don't know. I've never seen a summons like this before."

The one to his left spoke up, a woman from the sound of the voice. He was about to say something when the smoke at the center of the circle dissipated. The girl that should have been dead was instead crouched on the floor, head tilted, looking at them with eyes a mix of red and black like the swirls of granite.

"Did it possess her?"

He shook his head, "That should be impossible. She was half-dead. Trying to possess her would have finished the job."

She laughed, and they all turned their eyes on her. She had locked eyes on the man who had been doing most of the talking. He found himself unable to look away as he watched her stand, body still covered in blood. She ran a hand through her hair, and horns broke through flesh. They were not as impressive as the demon, only growing about five inches instead of the nearly two feet of the demon. She walked forward toward the man, and her lips rose in a grin.

"You will be the first."

The voice that came out of her was a deep growl and a girl's voice all at once. It spoke in the language of demons. The moment the last word was spoken, the body that was both girl and demon lunged forward, grabbed the robed man around the throat with its right hand, and slammed him onto the concrete floor.

It was strong enough that the floor cracked from the impact, and the back of the man's head broke open as if it were an egg. He stopped breathing after the impact. Then, it turned its attention to the closest person and went after them. The only thing it desired was revenge and death.

It did not stop until all thirteen were dead, each death more brutal than the last as it tore limbs away. Bodies were missing heads, arms, legs. Some were missing half their face, others had holes ripped into their chests, a pile of ground meat that had once been a heart thrown to the side.

The last one was the slowest death.

"Why was my family chosen?"

The man was kneeling on the floor; the hood was thrown back to reveal a blond-haired, blue-eyed man in his late twenties. Tears fell as he kept his eyes moving, looking at the carnage around him. Snot fell from his nose into his mouth, and he smelled strongly of ammonia, maybe something stronger.

"P-Porter said t-that you were annoying neighbors. W-would complain about the noise."

Her head tilted as her eyes narrowed, "That's it?"

The voice only held a hint of the deep growl from before. It was more Rowen that spoke than the thing they had become.

"Y-yes."

The man nodded his head. The sound of her voice changing made him hold some hope that she would spare him.

Rowen stood and moved through the bodies until she found what she was looking for; a dagger. She returned to the man and kicked him, forcing him to fall back. His eyes widened, more white than pupil, as she straddled his body, dagger in hand.

"I don't mind the noise."

She started with the fingers and cut each one-off, then carefully moved up. A normal dagger would not be able to do what she needed it to, but with the demon's power covering the blade and lending her strength, she was able to cut bone easily.

She managed to keep him awake and alive long enough to cut up both arms. When she realized he was dead, she screamed in rage and stabbed his chest repeatedly. Once she had spent her rage, she stood, and the dagger slipped from her fingers as she stumbled away. She only made it a few feet before she fell to her knees and blacked out.