text: Greg clung to the rosary for dear life. The mansion creaked around him, every dark stain in the abandoned place making him think of the blood spilled there long ago. “I’m here to make a bargain.” He was supposed to speak the words in a loud, clear voice. Instead they came out as a half-shriek. Nothing answered. “Axaroth, I am here to make a bargain,” Greg repeated, his voice a little calmer. Nothing was going to happen. Not really. His friends had been messing with him. “Speak!” The voice rang out from every direction at once. It boomed with a deep bass, and demanded compliance. “I...I...I...” Greg stuttered as he tried to get words out. “I..I..I...I will perish if I don’t speak and waste the time of beings infinitely more important than mine own. Speak or be damned.” “I have requests.” “And you are willing to sell your soul?” Gregory held up the rosary in defiance. “You must make a bargain for an earthly price if I am protected. There was a moment of silence, and then laughter rang forth from the walls. Deep, bellowing laughter. It went on for some time. When it finally halted, the demon answered. “That protects against lesser demons. I am Axaroth, Prince of Hatred.” Gregory bolted, but froze with his hand on the doorknob. He had come here for a reason. “It offers no protection.” “Half of your soul, so you are doomed to half an existence. Unless, of course, you come to hell. Then your soul can be reforged for an eternity of torture.” “Kill my father.” Silence. It stretched out, like a rubber band, thinner and thinner until everything threatened to *snap*. “I said kill my father,” Greg screamed when he could take it no longer. The next voice Greg heard wasn’t the demon Axaroth. It came from upstairs. Several voices, in fact, were arguing. Greg followed them. Up the stairs, down the hall, he found a bedroom. His friends, if he could call them that, sat around a laptop and microphone, the laptop displaying a view of the foyer Greg had just been in. His friends turned and looked at him in shame. Greg looked over them all once, then turned without a word. They chased him to the entrance, pleading their excuses, how it was supposed to be funny, how they thought he’d ask for Jessica to date him. As they reached the front door, the lights went out. “It isn’t funny anymore.” Mike, the ring leader, pleaded their innocence as the room turned cold. “I said it isn’t...funny...any...okay, what the fuck is that?” Something was rumbling, almost like a chuckle, in the darkness. The boys turned, and from the darkness stepped forth something large. Something evil. It stood eight feet tall, ten with its horns, a goat standing like a human, a pentacle of blood upon its forehead. As it strode forward it stared into the eyes of each boy in turn, the blacker than night holes in its head seeming to suck out their secrets. “Gregory.” The demon’s voice was deeper than was possible, it rumbled like the Earth moving, it was fear itself, made manifest. Greg reached behind him and yanked at the doorknob, but it refused to budge. “Gregory dear, these friends of yours need to go. Say the word.” Mike turned from the beast, the only one to do so. The rest plead on their knees to the beast, overlapping voices crying out for their mommy’s for the first time since leaving for college, crying out for mercy where there could be none, crying out for salvation from the very thing they had wanted to be. Their eyes locked. For a moment, Gregory saw Mike. He had wet himself in fear, and that was what he had wanted from Gregory. Fear. Embarrassment. Shame. The video was supposed to go viral, shaming Gregory into leaving college and going home. “And your father too. I know you hate how he treats your family. Let me punish them for you. Let me punish them all. Say the word.” Greg’s mouth moved silently. One of Mike’s friends charged the beast, only to be effortlessly backhanded across the room. He fell in a slump, the moaning the only sign he was still alive. “Choose quickly, lest I give them the chance to choose your fate.” Greg ripped his eyes from Mike as Mike spun back towards the beast. “Yes,” Mike screamed, “yes, kill him, kill Greg and let us go.” The beast ignored Mike and held Greg’s gaze. “Say it.” Greg swallowed as the word came to his lips as if on its own. “Yes. ***** Entry for the /r/WritingPrompts spooky campfire, happening Saturday.