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A Demon to Save Me
H.S. Kallinger
A novel of Found Humanity
Book 1
This story begins the Found Humanity series,
which takes place in the Lost Humanity multiverse. It is independent of the
series, but it begins in the same universe—or a parallel one.The following book contains strong language,
suicidal ideation, depictions of violence, self-injury, sex, age gaps, body
modifications, drinking and drug use, bigotry, LGBTQIA-phobia, gender
dysphoria, misgendering, and discussions (not depictions on page) of child
abuse, fatphobia, assault (SA), teen sex, religion, and racism. This series is
trans-positive and spends most of the time on gender euphoria. The sex in this
book is not as graphic as the Lost Humanity series, but there is a lot of it.
Reader discretion is advised.
(note: not all of this is relevant to this chapter but encompasses the book as a whole)
My blood was all over the floor. It smelled like metal and
meat. I'd once read a ridiculous vampire book that claimed humans couldn't
smell blood. I guess that was true for some? I wasn't human, so I couldn't
speak for them as a whole, but my mom had complained about the smell of blood
when I'd gashed my head open falling off my bike as a little kid. I liked the
smell, always had. Today was no different.
The wound on my thigh matched a few dozen nearly
healed scars around it. They were almost invisible unless you had better than
human vision. It's why I didn't just use the same spot every time. I use to,
and I had a very visible scar from it on my other leg. My dad wasn't ever going
to see this part of my legs, so I wasn't worried about anyone finding out about
this.
I used the back of my nail to scrape off
the last of the blood and rubbed it on the underside of my tongue. The effect
was immediate when I pulled my tongue back into my mouth.
I wished that it didn't make me hard every
time, but I loved the floating and the electric feelings. I'd discovered this
by accident when I was fourteen and cut myself instead of the sandwich I'd just
made and stuck my finger in my mouth.
My parents had always jumped to prevent me
from getting blood in my mouth. Lost teeth got paper towels stuck in the gap
right away. Bloody lips and noses were treated with care. I appreciated that
I'd never been exposed to it when I was younger. Honestly, I wished I hadn't
let curiosity win when I was fourteen. I was already a horny mess. The blood
high made it worse.
I didn't tell anyone. Who would I tell? My
parents? Oh, hell no. My sister? We're not close enough, and she's older than
my mom anyway. Not that you can tell. Mom's thirty-six. Andria's forty. Mom
looks thirty-something, but Riri looks twenty-something.
Sooner or later, I was going to stop
aging, too. Or slow down so much it was as good as stopped. Right now, my age
matched my face, just like all the kids at the school I hated.
Fuck my school, and fuck everyone who went
there.
Mom was at work. Dad was asleep. I had
finished my homework on the bus ride home. It was easy. It had always been
easy. Dad had tried to help me talk mom into letting me skip high school and go
straight to college, but she kept going on about my nonexistent social life.
Forcing me to keep sharing space with a bunch of people who hated me for not
knowing how to talk to them wasn't helping anything.
I'd tried to make friends years ago, but
it had always ended one of two ways: I hurt them by accident because they were
so fragile, or I was 'too weird,' and they hurt me on purpose. Freshman year, a
few baby groupies pretended to be my friends to meet my dad, and that was the
end of it for me. I wouldn't even speak to anyone there now. There wasn't any
point. They all either hated me or wanted to use me.
So, here I was, sitting alone in my room
on a Friday afternoon, unsure if the boredom or loneliness was worse, and
getting high to escape. I pushed the blood around on the floor until it had
made a decent pentagram. I felt a little guilty. My dad would be upset if he
knew I was even pretending to play with witchcraft.
Poor old vampire with his old religion he
couldn't let go of. My mom was mostly agnostic, but she tried to believe for
him. I just couldn't. Living on the edge of the Bible Belt had it shoved down
my throat until I gagged on it. If I had a dollar for every time someone told
me I was going to Hell because my father was a vampire, I could get the fuck
out.
“Hell, huh?” I muttered. I picked up the
knife and drew more blood, deeper than I ever had, not really feeling anything.
I didn't want to feel anything. I should push just a little deeper...
I used it to make the pentagram better. It
was too splotchy. I traced it three times as I added more blood and muttered in
Latin, not really thinking, just trying to make it sound cool. I wanted it to sound
like a spell to summon a demon. Maybe I could ask about Hell. I chuckled and
realized my demon needed a name. “Lexephorath.”
A jolt of electricity ran through me. I
shuddered. It felt... nice. I repeated the name twice more and traced my finger
around the circle as I did. I spread my hand out over the bloody mess and then
slapped my floor.
Everything went red.
I felt like I'd just stuck my hand in
fire. The taste of blood filled my mouth. Red lightning ran down every nerve in
my body. I couldn't see anything but the color red. Sulfur started burning my
nose, mouth, and throat. But strangely enough—none of it actually hurt.
I blinked away the red film and barely stopped myself from gasping.
'Beautiful' didn't describe what I was
looking at well enough, but it was the best I had. Some poor artist must've had
their subject climb out of the painting to come kneel naked in my bedroom.
Their hair looked like it had been painted to resemble fire.
Their eyes were full of it—a bright,
burning orange and yellow—as they met mine. Black, thick lashes may as well
have been the coal that kept them alight. Two black and red horns curled and
twisted up from their forehead, just above the temples.
“How may I serve you, Master?” they asked.
“Lexephorath?” I whispered. They cocked
their head to the side. After a moment of appraising me, they nodded. Light
danced off the silver ring around their neck—a collar? A necklace? It was all
they were wearing.
“Yes, Master. As you called.” Their voice
was strange, more than one overlapping. They stood, and I followed suit,
startled by the sudden movement. I struggled to keep my eyes on their face.
Their body was as androgynous as the rest of them, and I really, really wanted
to stare at their breasts. “And you are?”
“Gabriel,” I answered. “I'm Gabriel.
I—didn't expect this to work.”
“You're not the first,” they said with a
smirk. “Here I am, to grant your any desire.”
“Just one price, right?” I asked, my
thoughts spinning. A demon. I'd summoned a demon. A real demon. Demons are
real. Here is one. In my room. Offering me anything I want. What do I want?
“Your soul, yes,” they answered. My soul.
I have a soul. Souls are real, and I have one. What. The. Fuck. “Gabriel,
perhaps you should sit down. You have gone pale.”
“I was just making shit up,” I said. They
reached out for my arm and stopped.
“May I touch you, Master?”
“What? Um, why?”
“I want to lead you to your desk to sit,”
they answered. I stepped back and looked at them, really looked at them.
Their skin was white as snow. Two red, leathery, bat-like wings were held
tightly closed against their back, black and red claws curving away from the
wrists. They had a dick, and the whole effect was like a cross between Baphomet
and a human, except I was fairly certain Baphomet had feathered wings.
I only knew that one because one of the
goth kids I sat with at lunch had it sketched on the notebook she wrote poetry
in every few days. The goths didn't treat me like I was a freak, but neither
did they welcome me into their group. I just... existed parallel to them.
Lexephorath suddenly stretched out their wings. “I assume you want a good
look.”
“Sorry,” I said, dropping my gaze to the
blood circle I'd drawn. It was small. “I thought demons appeared inside the
circle.”
“If you draw it big enough to contain me,”
they replied. “Did you want me restrained?”
“Huh? No,” I looked back up at their face.
Their wings were down again, folded over their body to hide it. The shifting
colors of their irises mesmerized me.
“We should decide on our contract,
Master,” they said. “I can put on clothing if my appearance is disturbing you.
I would need you to loan me some, though.”
“You aren't—I mean, it's not disturbing—you're
just—I don't want to be rude...” I didn't know what to say. “Do you want
clothes? Your wings...”
“I can hide them,” they said, pulling the
wings back and closer to their body until they vanished. They suddenly looked
smaller and more vulnerable. I hurried over to my drawers and pulled one open.
I stared at my clothes for a moment before
closing it and walking over to my closet. I moved the shirts and my suit and
reached into the far end that no one but me ever used and pulled out a black
dress. I stared at it for a long moment before I offered it to the demon. They
took it and slipped it on.
“Is this better?”
“Yes,” I answered honestly. “Would you
rather have had pants?”
“No,” they said. “I prefer to be naked,
but a dress is fine.”
“Yeah, it feels closer to being naked,” I
said softly, and they nodded. They didn't say a word about me having a dress,
just acted like it was normal.
“Exactly.” They smiled brightly. “Shall we
create our contract now?”
“Oh,” I looked back at the blood again. It
was dried, and most of the smell was gone. “I was just lonely.”
“Lonely? Well, popularity is easy! We can
cure that loneliness in—”
“I don't want that.”
“You... don't want your loneliness cured?”
“I don't want fake popularity. I don't
want anyone in my life that doesn't like me for me.”
“I can act as an intermediary, introduce
you to those who will like you.”
“Still cheating.”
“How so? I would merely be a... friendship
version of a dating service.” They weren't wrong, but...
“If I can't make friends on my own at my
age, I don't deserve them,” I said.
“Then confidence! I can give you the
confidence to put yourself out there, to—”
“No. I don't want you to change who I am.
That goes back to being fake.”
“I would just help you find the potential
you already have, teach you to nurture it.”
“I can pay a therapist for that,” I said.
“With money. Which I also don't want. Nor fame or talent or anything else that
I can obtain on my own through work and persistence or not at all.”
“How about wish fulfillment? You could
have three wishes. Or more. I'm not opposed to wishing for more wishes, or a
lifetime of my servitude, but—”
“No. That's... too much. The only thing
I'd have wished for if I was Aladdin was to free the genie.”
“If you don't want what I'm selling, why
did you summon me?” they asked. I sighed, guilt tugging at me.
“I'm sorry. I won't give you my soul. I
don't really believe it's a thing, but if it is, I can't just sell it. You can
go home. I'm sorry that I wasted your time.”
“I can't go back without a soul,” they
said, shaking their head. “If we could come and go as we please, there would be
a lot of us just going. Mass exodus.”
“I can't give you my soul,” I repeated. I
walked over to my bed and sat on the edge, slumping miserably. “Honestly, all I
want right now is a hug.”
I looked up when they walked over and met
their eyes as they stared at me. Their eyes were aflame on the surface. Underneath,
they seemed to be an amber color, both dark and light at the same time. I felt
time passing, but while I watched their eyes, it wasn't uncomfortable. Finally,
they stepped forward and wrapped their arms around me. I hugged them back,
resting my head on their shoulder.
“Me, too,” they whispered. I hugged them
tighter. I didn't let go until I felt all the tension leave us both. They
felt... empty.
“Are you lonely, too?”
“I exist only to collect souls and make
other people's dreams come true,” they answered, stepping back. I let my hand
trail down their arm to their wrist. I gently tugged, thinking 'soft as a
kitten' to remind myself not to apply much force. I didn't get much practice in
touching people outside of my family. They sat next to me. “No one has ever
asked about me, and there isn't much to tell.”
“Well, tell me what there is,” I invited.
“You feel like you're waiting for something.”
“The contract. It's all I live for,” they
answered. “You... feel that?”
“Yeah. When I touch people, I sometimes
get an idea of what they feel or a sense of... their senses, I guess?
Started when I hit puberty. My dad's a vampire, so it comes from him, I guess.”
“Your dad's a—a vampire? A real vampire?”
Their eyes had gone wide.
“Well, yeah,” I said, confused. “Never met
one?”
“How?” they asked, leaning in close to
stare into my eyes. I leaned away.
“Uh, he was sired in England by a vampire
that loved his poetry during the Elizabethan Era. She loved him, too, I guess?
They only stayed together for, like, thirty years. He was twenty-one when it
happened. That's all I really know,” I answered. They kept staring at me.
“You speak as if vampires are a normal
part of life,” they said. I frowned.
“Because they are?”
“Hmm,” they looked away, their brow
wrinkling. “I haven't met any, no.”
“Oh, well, I'm a dhampir, a half-vampire,”
I said, and they turned back to me. “Not human, not vampire, but more human
than vampire. Or I'm supposed to be. I dunno. It means I can't ever be a
vampire myself, though. I'm immune.”
“My father's the Devil,” Lex said. “My
mother was human. She made a deal with him directly—the soul of her firstborn
child in exchange for fortune and fame. It was a fool's bargain, of course. In
condemning me, she condemned herself. She thought she was clever, though.”
“Her own child?” I was horrified. My
parents both loved and wanted me very much. I couldn't imagine...
“She and Father rolled around to seal the
deal, and she chucked me in the Pit still wet from birth. I don't know who she
is, even, only that she's down there for it. I don't interact with the damned.”
“Just at the point of sale,” I teased, and
they laughed.
“Right.” They leaned back onto their hands
and stared at the starship models I had hanging from my ceiling. “How old are
you?”
“Sixteen. You?” I watched their eyes go
dark as they thought about my question.
“I don't know. I... don't know at all,”
they said softly. “I don't feel time. I try not to feel anything, ever. I hate
my life.”
“I can only imagine—living in Hell...”
“Don't misunderstand. Hell for me isn't
Hell for the damned. I just... exist there. Sometimes I talk to my siblings or
the fallen or whatever. Mostly, though, the only time I'm... awake... is when
I'm here, serving your kind.”
“And you can't leave?”
“I'm enslaved to Hell. Chained. There's no
way to leave.” Their hand slid along the bed until it was resting next to mine.
They felt relaxed. That sense of urgency to get my soul had passed. I wondered
what happened to a demon who couldn't collect a soul and asked. “No such thing.
I'll just wait until my next summoning and collect then.”
“So, you were just trying to guilt me out
of my soul?” I asked.
“Guilt?” They turned to me and shook their
head. “Why would you feel guilt over me?”
“I dunno. I felt bad that you might not be
able to go home, that you came all this way just to be told to get bent.”
“I will say it's an unusual situation,”
they admitted with a laugh. “It's never happened to me before. Where did you
even learn my name?”
“I made it up,” I said.
“You—accidentally spoke my true
name, right down to the correct stresses?” They looked incredulous. I shrugged.
“And you just happen to speak Latin?”
“My father insisted I learn,” I said,
rolling my eyes. “I also speak French because he does. Honestly, Latin's useful
in science, and everyone keeps pushing me to be a doctor, so...”
“Do you want to be a doctor?” Lex asked.
“I don't know? I want to not be in
high school. I want to be halfway done with pre-med. I hate my life, too. Not
my parents, though. I got good ones, I guess,” I said. “But everyone else
sucks.”
“In my experience, humans are terrible
creatures,” they said. “You confuse me, though. I've never had a conversation
with one of you before. Not like this.”
“Told you I was lonely,” I said and
laughed bitterly. “Also, you're under no obligation to stay here and listen to
me whine.”
“I'm aware. You told me I could leave,”
they said. “Do you mind if we keep talking?”
“Not at all,” I said and lay back on my
bed. “What's Hell like?”
“For me? It is mostly my father's throne
room, my room, and the common room. Corridors of volcanic rock link them and
form walls of the caverns. For you? It would be all your nightmares forever.”
“Yeah, you're definitely not
getting my soul,” I said, and they laughed with me.
“What is high school like?” they asked.
I thought about it for a minute before
describing it with as little bias as I could. The bias, I dumped on at the end.
We went back and forth as the light from the sun got brighter in my room. I
pulled the curtains, annoyed. I hated the sun. It made me tired, and I burned
easily.
When I turned around, Lex was on their
side on my bed, and I was once again stunned by their beauty. I walked back to
the bed and climbed directly on top of them. They lay back, looking highly
amused.
“Think of something worth your soul?” they
asked.
“Argh!” I tossed myself onto my back, and
they laughed brightly. The happier they were, the more their voice harmonized
with itself. The less happy they were, the more dissonant it became. I could
listen to them talk for days and never get tired of it. Light bounced off their
collar again, and I reached for it. Their hand grabbed mine right before I
would have touched it.
“No.”
“Sorry!” I pulled my hand back. “I was...”
“It's shiny, you great corvid. But only my
father may touch it.” They let go of my hand, and I caught theirs before they
could pull away. They looked at our hands, and I slowly linked our fingers, monitoring
their feelings as I did.
“This okay?” I asked. Their amusement
trailed down my arm.
“Why Gabriel, are you trying to seduce
me?” they asked. A thoughtful look came over their face. “You know my true name
but hide at least half of yours.”
“Gabriel Andrew Belmont,” I offered. “That
doesn't give you some kind of power over me, does it?”
“No. It doesn't so much as even the
playing field. I was just curious. Though, if you made up my name, do you even
remember it?”
“Lexephorath.” I smirked when they sighed.
“Can I just call you Lex?”
“Please,” they said. “Every time you speak
my true name, it... is like tugging a leash.”
“Oh, yikes. Okay, well, Lex it is,” I
said.
We returned to talking, but the space
between us only got smaller and smaller until it was gone, along with our
clothes, whatever inhibitions I'd had, and the loneliness we'd both been filled
with. After, they lay in my arms, having maneuvered their head with practiced
ease to avoid poking me with their horns. I ran my hand down the wing that was
draped over the both of us, and they shivered.
“I—”
“Shh,” They sat up on their elbow and
sighed “Someone is calling me.”
“Ah, yeah, work calls,” I said, a little
sad for them to move away from me. Overall, I still felt better.
“It does. Thank you for the day off,” Lex
said and flashed me a toothy smile, revealing they had the top and bottom fangs
that I'd thought I'd felt.
“Any time,” I said.
“I wish it were that easy. You know how to
call me,” they said before disappearing in a cloud of sulfuric smoke. I covered
my nose with my shirt until the stink went away. The sun set with the smell
still in the room, so I quickly got up to open my window and re-lit the candles
I'd blown out earlier.
I grabbed a bottle of fabric refresher and
hit my bed, satisfied that all the scented products should prevent my dad from
getting an unwanted noseful of my diurnal activities. I felt immediately
energized by the oncoming night and hoped that skipping my usual afternoon
sleep wouldn't make me crash too early.
For my final act of obfuscation, I
squirted hand sanitizer onto my blood circle and wiped it away with tissues. I
hadn't made any kind of symbols, just the pentagram, so that part would be easy
to reproduce if I wanted.
I started to grab a pen and paper to write
down what I'd said, but then I thought better of it. As much as I might want to
see Lex again, summoning them was an act of force. I couldn't do that to them
again, and I shouldn't risk my soul, either, if the damn thing really existed.
I grabbed a mostly clean towel from the
pile next to my door and wrapped it around my waist to hurry across the hall to
the bathroom. I needed a shower.
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Copyright © 2020 by H.S. Kallinger
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