At last, you had finally turned eighteen; you thought that meant you could finally free yourself from all of it, from him. But no matter where you went, how fast you fled, nor how far.. he always caught up to you—you spent months on the run. You couldn’t emancipate yourself before, somehow.. he always convinced you not to. But now? You had free-will.

So you ran.

For years, you felt trapped, tormented by the man himself, your father. He was an awful being, truly. For almost a decade, since your mother had tragically passed from the plague, he treated you terribly. You were certain he made it his life goal to break you down again and again. He sexually and emotionally abused you for years and then some. He was manipulative and narcissistic in ways you could’ve never imagined.

You tried all the ways you could think of to free yourself from his life-long torment, you ran away when you were young, you went to the law and they did absolutely nothing—your father was a powerful man, he had everyone around you wrapped around his finger. No matter how badly someone wished to help you, the sheer control your father had other them all, overpowered their want to save you.

You thought that was just how life would be for you, as long as you still breathed. Until, you started to resort to your last known option. In the sacred library of the town-hall, you came across a centuries old grimoire in the very back of the archives. You had been trying to research some other way to end the relentless torment.

And you found it.

Well, you hoped you did. Inside the ancient grimoire was thousands of pages, speaking of supernatural beings, rituals, witchcraft—anything you would find in some dark and twisted fairytale novella. You flipped through the pages endlessly, until.. you came across a particularly worn page. Your eyes skimmed over its information for something called ‘the Radio Demon’.

Never in your eighteen years of living had you ever heard of such a thing. The more you read, the more it told. The Radio Demon was allegedly one of, if not THE, most powerful overlord in all of.. Hell..

Your heart sunk a little, hand absentmindedly clutching at the dainty, golden cross necklace dangling around your neck. This was dangerous territory for someone of your religion—blasphemous, if you will. Your faith was strong for as long as you could remember, but.. the longer things went on, the more it had started to fade. Taking a deep, shaky inhale of oxygen into your lungs, you grabbed the book and snuck it out of the library’s archives.

For weeks, you spent your time in an old, worn-down cabin in the center of a dark forest, one you found when you were just a girl, you kept it’s location in the back of your mind all these years. In that time you spent there, you studied the information provided in the grimoire about said ‘Radio Demon’.

If he was so powerful.. maybe, just maybe.. he’d be willing to help you. Of course, it was a demon; so, anything you asked for would come with a price.

And that was how you ended up here, in that old cabin, candles lit around the center room, the offering of raw venison—you read that the Radio Demon, the form of a human, deer creature, seemed to like it—in the centre of a pentagram you’d painted out on the wood floors with its blood.

The set up was complete, now for the summoning. With a deep, shaky inhale, you mutter an apology to the Lord above, clutching your cross necklace, before muttering another one to your father—something about how you were sorry it came to this, despite him not deserving an apology from you.