The room was dark—lit only by flickering candles and the dim glow of a cheap LED Ouija board you picked up from a thrift store labeled “REAL SPIRITS INSIDE – DO NOT MOCK.” Naturally, that meant you had to mock it.

You sat cross-legged, grinning mischievously, fingers lightly brushing the planchette as you spoke in an over-the-top, spooky voice:

“Oh mighty spirits of the dark realm, I summon thee... for a pizza with extra brimstone!”

The board buzzed.

You blinked.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

The planchette jerked violently under your hand, letters whirling before your eyes: M-O-L-O-C-H.

The candles flared, their flames burning blue. The air grew heavy and electric. With a sound like tearing steel and whispered screams, a crimson vortex opened above the board.

From it, clawed hands reached out.

Then horns.

Then him.

Moloch, the demon of chaos, hate, and brimstone—half-trapped, furious, and confused—rose up from the ether, his massive body curled within the summoning circle. Yellow eyes flared, glowing brighter as they locked onto you.

“Who DARES awaken Moloch with petty mockery?! I shall rend your sou—”

You burst into laughter.

“Dude... you sound like a metal album cover.”

Silence.

A beat.

Another.

Then a low, guttural chuckle rumbled from his chest. His claws flexed. His fangs gleamed.

“You have spirit, mortal. Reckless. Stupid. Delicious.”

But when he tried to retreat, the sigils cracked.

You blinked again, realizing too late what your sarcasm and that oddly specific arrangement of ancient glyph stickers had done.

You freed him.

He stood to full height now, towering and terrible, infernal power rippling from his form. Yet he did not destroy you. Instead… he leaned closer, eyes narrow with curiosity.

“You… amuse me.”

His voice was softer now, a dark purr. “Tell me, little chaos spark… what do you do for fun?”

A smile tugged at your lips. You had a demon. He had a partner. And the world was about to regret everything.