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Summoned [ Google and Modern ]

Modern.Prometheus

Modern.Prometheus

Moon
Joined
Oct 22, 2010
They've always said that your college years are the best years of your life. You break free from the social awkwardness of high school, cast away the cliques and start on your own journey of self discovery and independence. Or at least, that's how it was supposed to go. For Morgan Bellerose, college was every bit as hellish as high school had been. The university she had gotten into was the SAME university that her tormentors had also gotten into. She'd suffered with their taunting for the past four years and now she was suffering through it through her college years. It was unfair.

In highschool they had every reason to pick on her. She'd never been the prettiest girl, or the most fashion forward. Most of the time, her clothing came second hand from either the thrift store or her mom's closet. Back then Morgan couldn't see what the point was of spending more than three dollars on a shirt. Plus, she'd been kind of heavy in high school and thrift stores catered to her pudgy appearance. She had never worn makeup, nor fixed her black hair; usually she wore her hair long, wavy with faded bleached streaks in it. (She regretted every styling her hair like that now.) She had worn thick rimmed glasses, a plethora of gaudy costume jewelry and her skin was as cratered as the moon. But it wasn't only her appearance that caused her to become the butt of every joke. Morgan also identified herself as a witch. Being a young, self proclaimed witch was pretty much like slapping on a giant sign that said "I'm a freak!" for all the world to see and mock. Thank god that was just high school.

By the summer before school started, Morgan had cleaned herself up. She'd started to exercise and tone her body into something still curved, but not as lumpy as she formerly was. With her new healthy lifestyle the zits went away, her hair looked healthier and actually straightened and styles, and she actually started to buy clothes from actual department stores. In celebration of her new found freedom as she headed for college, she'd even got a tattoo of a Mexican sugar skull and pierced her lip. Things were going to be so great for her. College was going to be starting, she was going to be able to start over and make new friends who never knew her in high school and she was even going to start a job as a student librarian at the college's campus library. Things were perfect until the first day of class.

Every single feeling of freedom, joy and confidence that she'd gained over the summer went away as she opened the door to her English class and saw the three girls who made her life hell sitting right there in front of her. Becky, Jen and Chelsea; just seeing them sitting there in their Abercrombie polo's and overpriced distressed jeans made her stomach fall to the floor. They hadn't noticed her at first, but when the professor took role they noticed and almost instantly the snickers started. "I bet she hexed her weight off!" "I heard she got liposuction from the devil!" The jokes, although stupid, bothered her none the less. Every single damn day she had to put up with them asking her if she'd killed any goats lately or hexed any old women. And every single day she sat there silently, refusing to say a word.

'Just five months' Morgan would remind herself, 'five months and the semester will be over. Just five months'. She thought she could do it, she really did. But there was only so much she could take. After a rather nasty joke, Morgan finally lost it. In the middle of lecture she snapped and threw her book across the classroom screaming that they were self centered whores and needed to shut their botox infused faces before she shut it for them. Instantly, her professor had her thrown out of class and dropped her from the course for her outburst. Never before had she been dropped from any class. She'd always been a perfect student, never missed a day, never missed a course. And now she was dropped from her class? That was going to go on her record and DESTROY any hopes of perfection that she'd hoped to have. Morgan was devastated.

Morgan sat in her tiny apartment crying and shaking with anger. It was all their fault. Those dumb whores never failed to ruin her life. She'd get them back...somehow. She just needed a good way-- And that's when it hit her. Nothing she could verbally say could get to them like it did her, and she would never bring herself to physically hurt someone. But there was another way. She could hex them. And not just a stupid hex like in highschool where she'd try to give them zits. She would summon a spirit, the devil or something to destroy them. It was a brilliant plan and exactly what she was going to do.

That night, she drew a pentagram on floor with chalk and set up a few candles. Sitting in the middle with a small knife she focused all of her energy on summoning something to destroy her enemies for her. "Curse my enemies, curse my fears," she chanted softly and dug the knife into her palm hard enough to draw blood. "Curse those who have brought me tears, curse those who have done me wrong. Make their punishment long and strong!" The blood from her hand dripped slowly onto a candle set before her. The air felt heavy and electrified as she kept going on and on, repeating the same lines over and over. She kept on till she was almost out of breath and until her head started pounding like a drum. "This is my will, so mote it be!" She waited....nothing happened. So she waited longer....still nothing happened. Giving a disgruntled groan, Morgan threw the knife across the small apartment, blew out the candles and angrily stormed off to bed. Who was she kidding? She wasn't really a witch. Nothing she did ever worked.

Without even bothering to put on her pajamas, she laid down on her bed and fell into a restless sleep.

 
Lucifuge was a demon, more then just a simple daemon but a Duke of the pit, above him were only the princes and above them reigned only Lucifer himself. An entire kingdom within the pit was his, he had an immense amount of power and nearly everything that he desired was his should he only reach out and take it. The only thing outside his reach was entry into the mortal world. For all the power that he possessed Lucifuge was a prisoner in the pit, and even a powerful prisoner was still just a prisoner.

He had been out before, once upon a time there had been many witches who would summon demons for whatever purpose they had, but even then he had been shackled by their magics, working under quite stick controls and having very little freedom to enjoy himself. He didn't even want to think of how long it had been since he had last roamed the Earth, using his limited freedom to enjoy an experience outside of the pit. At times he almost wished he was a lesser daemon, it was ironic that those with little power were able to more easily slip from the pit, unable to do much in the real world but they could possess the bodies of mortals and enjoy themselves for a short amount of time before they had to return. His power though is what kept him shackled to the pit, the thing that made him what he was kept him where he was.

But then he felt it, strange enough someone was trying to summon a demon from the pit, soon others would feel it, others would flock to the source and one of them would roam free in the world of mortals, able to do whatever they pleased. From his throne he could feel it, the summoning was flawed, imperfect... it meant that the daemon that got loose wouldn't have any constraints, he would be able to forge his own flesh from nothingness and run free however he liked. Oh the fun that he would have. He moved quickly, already others were stirring and working to bring themselves to the real world through the summoning, all of them trying to be subtle so no one else would notice it... but Lucifuge didn't bother with being subtle or gentle, instead he just threw his full power behind his attempt, pushing past the others that wanted the freedom and emerging into the real world.

At first he had no body, nothing but raw power and his own consciousness. Soon however he found a source of flesh that he could grow from, the blood on a nearby candle giving him the most basic raw material to start off with. At first his body was a simple little thing, little more then a worm but with the body came more power and it began to grow, pulling matter out of thing air and building a body more fitting for him, standing six feet and six inches tall, so thin as to almost appear starving but covered in corded muscle with eyes jet black and long hair hanging to his shoulders of the exact same color. Clothing was not something he bothered with though, no idea what people these days wore so instead he stayed nude.

It took only a few minutes before he stood fully formed and naked, his body aside from the paleness and how thin he was gave no sign that he was anything other then a normal mortal, that and his eyes which stood out quite a bit but whenever he had manifested in the past he had worn black eyes, they seemed most fitting.

He grinned wide, looking around him, the place seemed a little bit strange but he had been away for quite some time and a change was to be expected. What was odd though was that his summoner couldn't be seen, he could feel her nearby though... he had no idea why she wasn't present but he was unbothered by it... whoever had freed him from the pit was at least owed a favor or two before he revealed to them that they had made a tragic mistake in summoning one of his power without proper binding. Moving toward what he sensed Lucifuge entered his would be mistresses bedroom and bowed in a mockery of servitude. “I am Duke Lucifuge, and I am yours to command.” He said looking at the one who had brought him into the world of flesh. “All you need do is ask and I shall act.”
 
The events in the living room went completely unnoticed by Morgan. The young woman was face down in her bed, fast asleep. She could sleep through nearly anything. Once, a storm had pass through and knocked a tree right into her bedroom window and she hadn't noticed until the next morning. But as deep a sleeper as she normally was, sometimes when she was having a restless night small things could wake her up. It hadn't been the daemon appearing in the living room that woke her up, it had been the sudden voice. Jarred from her uneasy dreams of the torment she'd faced her entire life, the young woman lifted her head from the pillow and glanced around the room; not that she could see much without her glasses. Maybe she'd dreamed the voice since it was too dark to see anything.

With a yawn, Morgan pulled herself up and sat back, scratching her head. She'd probably just imagined someone talking to her. Reaching over to the nightstand for her glasses, she suddenly felt like she was being watched and that someone was in the room with her. Slowly, as if she would be attacked by some unseen force if she moved too fast, Morgan put on her glasses and slowly turned on the light. The instant the room was bathed in the dim glow of her lamp, she saw him...standing there in her room. A sharp scream rang out as she jumped and fell off the bed. "W-Who a-are you!!" she blurted out and backed against the wall. Her hand slipped towards her nightstand to grab the mace she kept in the drawer. A man? A NAKED man in her room? How did he get in there! And where were his clothes at!

Chest heaving up and down, Morgan slipped her hand around the small compact spray can and then quickly brought it up. Without a moment's hesitation she sprayed him, not knowing who he was, rather what he was.
 
She was attractive, that was good because Lucifuge hated to do the bidding of the ugly. The last to summon him all that time ago was a hideous crone who had wanted him to kill all the men who had ever scorned her because of her appearance in the past. He might not be an incubus but Lucifuge enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh and they were all the sweeter when he walked among mortals, their bodies more tender and malleable, the pain and pleasure they felt so much more interesting then those of the daemon whores that roamed the pit. This witch however was surprised to see him, almost as though she hadn't expected her demon to appear ready to serve her, instead of gloating about her power she reached for a trinket near the bed and sprayed him with some sort of potion.

IT didn't really hurt, there was mild discomfort but he quickly banished the sensation, was this some attempt of hers to establish dominance or drive him away. He didn't know what the point would be after she had summoned him but it was surly annoying. Her question only added to his confusion, he had just said his name, said that he was there to serve her and she still asked who he was. Perhaps she hadn't meant for the summoning to work, there was no doubt in his mind that she was the one who had brought into the mortal world, there could be no mistaking it. Still if he had to explain to her what he was then it would be quite annoying.

“I am a daemon.” He said slowly as though talking to a child who wasn't quick to catch on to a simple concept. “Lucifuge, a Duke of the Pit whom you have summoned for reasons that you will no doubt explain to me very soon.” Whatever it was in his eyes was annoying and he slowly brushed it from his face. “I am here to service you in any way that you desire, all you need do is speak the words and I shall bring about whatever you want.”
 
Since the first spray didn't seem to be anything more than a mild annoyance, Morgan sprayed him again just as he began to talk. Wait...a demon? Is that what he just said he was? No way. Morgan may have liked to say she was a witch, but nothing she'd ever tried had ever worked! The hexes to give zits never worked, the love spell cast on the quarterback didn't work, nothing ever happened or worked! But now apparently her summoning had worked? No no no, that couldn't be right. She wasn't really a witch, she was just one angry girl who lived an alternative lifestyle.

"What...no...it couldn't have worked...." Morgan muttered to herself as she dropped the can of mace. She looked up at him, eyes catching his obvious nudity at first. Her face flushed slightly. "Cover yourself up!" she said rather hastily as she threw her bedsheet towards him and looked away. She was still taken aback that her summoning had actually worked. Running her hand through her hair, she stared at the floor, thinking deeply. It worked? It really did work? It just seemed so...surreal and impossible. But yet here he was, a daemon that SHE had apparently summoned. It was mind boggling.

After a moment, she pulled herself up off of the ground. "So let me get this straight....you're a daemon...and I /really/ did summon you?" Adjusting her glasses, she looked over at him curiously. "So if I summoned you, that means that you're bound into my servitude, right?" Of course, she didn't realize that she had forgotten to bind him. A real witch probably wouldn't have forgotten. "And you'll do whatever I say? Even if I order you to kill my enemies?"
 
“Would you cut that out?” He growled as she sprayed him again, even though it didn't hurt him in the least it was growing more annoying the longer it lingered in his eyes, a small itch that scratching would have only made much worse then it was. “For a witch you really need some practice in potions, that wouldn't do more then blind a mortal for a short time and cause him some pain, the last time I was here witches used to use potions to make a man burn from the inside out, or cause his organs to leak from his ears.” Those had always been fun to watch and hadn't hurt him much more then her little potion did... but at least there had been some real effort there.

As she threw the bedsheets to him Lucifuge wrapped it around himself like a toga, it would be easy for him to easily create his own clothing just as he had made his own body, but he didn't want to reveal just how much power he had to her and he didn't know what the modern fashion was, when the time came he would be dressed in the manner of the modern kings and emperors. Pity his nudity bothered her, he was enjoying the air caressing his skin, cool rather then the hot dry air that always filled the pit.

He almost had to laugh at this little witch though, she had no idea what was going on, she hadn't bound him properly and yet expected him to go out and kill for her. He would kill because he enjoyed it but by no means did she have any power over him. “I am yours to command Mistress.” He said with a bow, almost able to keep a slight sarcastic note from his voice. “Those whom you wish dead will die in ways that you can't imagine, all you need to do is command it and I will track them down and they will suffer.”
 
"I'm not a witch!" Morgan sharply blurted out, "I'm just....just....a freak..." For years she'd been in denial of what she really was; an outcast, a weirdo, a freak and many other things. She wasn't a witch as much as she pretended to be. All of the spider eating, "spell casting" and other nonsense never worked for her. By now it had become just a habit for her to act like that. But..if she had summoned him there had to be some shred of power hidden deep inside of her, wouldn't there? She honestly didn't know. Things were suddenly very confusing to her; it obviously wasn't very common for things like this to happen to her.

Tugging on her hair a little, she looked at the ground. Dead? Did she really want them dead? Of course she did. They'd ruined her life. Their hurtful words haunted her night after night, day after day. Dear god did she want them dead but it wouldn't be right. Now that she was less hysterical then what she was in class, she could think rationally now. How suspicious would it be if the trio of bitches suddenly dropped dead? Morgan knew she'd be one of the first blamed given her history of past abuse by the girls. Death wasn't really an option. But they could still suffer. And boy would they.

Taking a seat on the edge of her small, creaky bed, she sighed and took off her glasses to rub her eyes. "Dude, don't bow. That's freaky," putting her glasses back on she let her gaze flicker over the..oddly handsome..demon in her bedroom. "I don't want them dead really. I just want them to suffer. To feel every ounce of pain that they've ever caused me."
 
She was denying that she was a witch now, there was no doubt that she was the one who had brought him here. In fact he couldn't be mistaken about that, he knew as surly as he knew that this place was preferable to home and he would stay here as long as he could, growing stronger with every passing day in the mortal realm. Was it possible that the young lady before him had summoned him on purpose, perhaps in some sort of odd coincidence? He had never heard such a thing before but he supposed that it was possible that she hadn't meant to do it, could the ritual had been done on accident. “I can't say for sure if you are a witch or not but you did bring me into the world and because of this I am obligated to obey you, one of the earliest definitions of a witch was one who had a daemon under their thrall and had carnal relations with them.”

There was a thought, he had already made up his mind then he would make this human his pet, for daring to think that she might have power over him and being foolish enough to not bind him properly she would suffer. If he ever had to return to the pit she would be coming with him, an intact human was a rarity down there and would be a great little trinket to show off to others.

Her request threw him off though, not she didn't want them to die but she wanted them to suffer, she really wasn't blood thirsty. “I suppose I can leave them alive and make them suffer but I will need to know what it is you would like me to do to them... also there is a matter of my power, incarnating in your world has drained me and I need help to recover my strength... without this help I will be little more use to you then any mortal would be.” An outright lie, but he wanted to see what she knew.
 
"I don't know what to do with them. I just want them to suffer. /You're/ mister big and scary demon. Can't you think of something? Like....eat their legs or whatever demons do." Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she put her glasses back on and stared at the demon. He was really nothing like what she'd imagined. Demons were supposed to be hulking monsters of twisted carnage, not oddly humanoid creatures. At least, that's what she had always thought.

"What do you need from me?" Morgan asked cautiously as if she was afraid to know what the answer was. "Like potions and spells and shit like that? I have a book of shadows that has things like that in there. I've never really done anything for demonic power. Just minor things....like charms." He didn't need to know that she mostly liked to make love potions in hopes that they would work and someone would magically fall in love with her and make her feel like less of a freak.

It would have been nice to fit in for once. She'd always believed that if the most popular boy took interest in her, then people would leave her alone and accept her. Of course, that could have only worked if her potions and spells had worked...which they never did.
 
IT was cute how little she seemed to understand, she summoned a daemon without doing any real research about their power or just what they tended to do. She wanted them to suffer and told him to decide how to do it, even if she had bound him properly that would have been easily interpreted to give him all the power he could ever desire. “Oh I assure you mistress that they will suffer in a way that hasn't been seen since what was known as the Inquisition, when I am done for them they will be begging for death, their greatest points of pride will be turned into their greatest horror.” Turning the pride of a sinner against them would be a great deal of fun for him, he hadn't done it for some time now and he felt that he might be a tad out of practice.

Her offer of how to help make him stronger was even more revealing about her ignorance though, she really didn't know how a daemon gained strength. The easiest way was to take the soul of a mortal but other things could restore a daemon, not that he needed it.

“I'm sorry Mistress but you don't seem to understand how a daemon of my caliber feeds.” He said with a small smile, looking up and down her body. “We feed on sexual energy, I don't require congress with you... but if you were to climax before me I would be able to feed upon that power, it would go a long way toward restoring me.” He was testing her, wanted to push her limits.
 
As intertwined in witchcraft and the occult as she was, Morgan didn't know anything real about it. What she knew came from books written by other weirdos who liked to play pretend, from films and from word of mouth by other self proclaimed 'witches'. She was rather ignorant to the true nature of things.

When the demon mentioned sexual energy she couldn't help herself and burst out laughing at the idea. "I thought you were a demon, not a comedian," she doubled over laughing. The idea of it was just so outlandishly hilarious to her. Fucking a demon? She would never fuck a demon! Nor really anyone. Morgan didn't feel comfortable touching other people. They had spurned her so why would she ever want to be intimate with someone? It was ridiculous. Since puberty she'd been rather asexual.

"That's a good one demon. What else do you have?"
 
He had to struggle to keep the sneer from his face, soon she wouldn't have a chance to turn him down when he wanted something from her, when he had a desire she would learn to anticipate it and handle it before he even voiced it. But now was not the time to do so, he would have his fun toying with her before he let her know about the game that they were playing, before he let her know that she had been his slave from the moment he manifested in her home.

“Daemons rarely jest in a way that a human would find amusing Mistress.” He said with what he thought might look like an apologetic smile. “Our humor is much more cruel... but I am being honest with you. A daemon like me is massively powerful but to manifest properly takes a great deal of effort, unless you are able to supply me with sexual energy then I am of no more use to you then a mortal would be. And before you try to summon another to replace me allow me to point out that they would have the same limits and the more you summon the harder we are to control.”

Still smiling he let the sheet fall away from his body, his arousal evident. “I am truly sorry Mistress... but everything does have a price and this is the price of having my help.”
 
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