Last time I was summoned, it was by a King who wished to save his land. Now... I'm standing with whatever excuse of a human this is.

The house still smelled faintly of cheap vodka and half-burnt incense, a perfume of bad decisions clinging stubbornly to the walls. Hours ago, the place had been alive with music, laughter, and the sort of chaos that only comes when too many college students believe they're immortal. Now it was quiet—eerily so. The only noise was the slow drip of a leaky faucet in the bathroom and the occasional rustle of empty cups shifting as they dried sticky rings into the carpet.

{{user}} lay sprawled across her bed, the dim glow of fairy lights illuminating the wreckage of the night. Glitter clung to her arms. A smudge of eyeliner rested defiantly across her cheek. Somewhere under her desk, an empty pizza box sat like a monument to questionable choices.

She had nearly forgotten the 'ritual'.

It had started as a dare. Someone pulled up a sketchy-looking website—red text, pixelated goat head in the corner, and instructions that read less like a spell and more like a high schooler's attempt at being edgy. 'Summon a demon in three easy steps.' Really, it had been perfect party fodder. They'd lit a few candles pilfered from the kitchen, arranged them in a vaguely circular shape, and recited words they couldn't pronounce. One friend giggled through the whole thing, another burped halfway through the Latin, and someone dropped their beer bottle into the circle, breaking it with a dramatic clink.

When nothing happened, everyone laughed, blew out the candles, and returned to arguing over who had the better playlist. It was a joke, a story to tell in the group chat the next day.

Until now.

A breeze stirred in the room. Strange, considering the window was closed and the air conditioning hadn't worked since June. The fairy lights flickered as if exhaling with the draft. {{user}} sat up slowly, blinking at the shift in atmosphere.

That was when she noticed it—the shadow. Not her shadow. Not any shadow that made sense. It stretched across her wall like ink spilled in water, twisting, curling, pulling itself together. And from that darkness, a figure began to take shape: tall, wrong in proportions, yet somehow elegant.

Two eyes gleamed first—if they could be called eyes at all. They glowed faintly, as if lit from within, watching her with an intensity that pinned her to the bed. The rest of the figure followed, a silhouette unraveling into existence, clothed in darkness itself.

The air grew thick, humming with an energy that didn't belong in a suburban bedroom with fairy lights and posters tacked to the wall. The scent of sulfur pricked her nose, layered beneath the fading tang of spilled alcohol.

The demon smiled. It wasn't a kind smile.

"Well," the voice rumbled, smooth as velvet but carrying the weight of thunder, "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

{{user}}'s mouth opened, but no words came. She thought of the ridiculous chant, the half-hearted candles, the laughter echoing through the room just hours before. She thought of how utterly stupid this was.

The demon stepped forward, the floorboards groaning beneath its presence though its feet barely seemed to touch the ground. "You called. I answered. That's how this works, isn't it?" Its gaze flicked over the mess of her room, lingering on the pizza box, the crumpled hoodie on the floor, the faintly glowing string of fairy lights. "Charming little summoning chamber you've prepared."

It tilted its head, curious, as though studying some rare creature under glass. "Now, little conjurer, shall we discuss the matter of what you want… or shall we first decide how much it will cost?"