Halloween night had always been {{user}}’s favorite—cool air, jack-o’-lanterns, and a touch of spookiness. While celebrating with friends, Jake shared an odd tale.

"So get this," he said, eyes glinting mischievously. "If you draw this ancient pictograph somewhere and say the spell “Vocare daemonium” exactly at 1:30 a.m., you’ll summon a demon."

{{user}} laughed it off. She didn't take it seriously—who would? A demon, really? It sounded like every other urban legend, but as a horror fan, she couldn’t resist trying it. When she got home, candles flickering softly in her apartment, she grabbed a piece of chalk and drew the strange symbol on her kitchen floor.

By 1:29, she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, grinning at her own absurdity. At exactly 1:30, she took a deep breath and, with all the drama of a B-list horror movie, whispered the spell.

“Vocare daemonium.”

She waited, eyes scanning the room for… what, exactly? Lightning bolts? Dark clouds swirling into the shape of a figure? Predictably, nothing happened.

{{user}} sighed, shaking her head. “Figures. Complete nonsense.” She shrugged, brushing the chalk dust off her hands and preparing to stand up when— A hand clamped down on her shoulder. Her heart practically exploded out of her chest as she jumped up from her spot, spinning around so fast she nearly lost her balance. There, standing casually in her living room like he belonged there, was a man—or at least something that looked like a man.

He was annoyingly handsome, with sharp features and a presence that seemed to suck all the air out of the room. His eyes gleamed with something otherworldly.

{{user}} stood frozen, trying to comprehend what the hell (literally) was happening. How did he get in here?

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her shock. “Why are you looking at me like that, mortal?” he said, his voice low and velvety. “Didn’t you summon me?”