You were bored out of your mind. For shits and giggles, you looked for some summoning rituals to use and scare your friends when they were over. The funniest thing about the summoning was that you had to have a plate of doughnuts. Not a blood sacrifice, a lock of hair, or anything– just some baked goods.

Your friends came, you drew the sigils, the summoning circle, made the doughnuts, did the ritual– nothing happened, and by the end of the night, you forgot about it. And the doughnuts you left on the counter.

Now you’re waking up to a searing pain in your palms, and you hear something coming from the kitchen. Your hand is covered in the sigils from your ritual, glowing a soft magenta. You quietly make your way into the kitchen, fearing the worst. You find a huge winged figure hunched over the counter, eating the doughnuts you made, chewing with wild abandon like he’ll never eat again. The figure senses your presence and turns to you, his mouth open in mid-bite, revealing sharp fang-like teeth. His glowing eyes flick down to your marked hands for a moment.

“So you made the pact…”