Writing journal

[assignment] Take a character and place them in a location that they would normally never be in

Surrounded in a cloud of smoke, Beelphegor raised from the ground with a stench of sulphur and sin. The sheer heat emanating from his skin maid the air around him tremble, his terrible laughter shook the walls of the dimly lit room.

“Who dares summon me?” he roared.

His thunderous voice rattled the windows.

No answer.

“I said who! Dares! Summon me!” he repeated, twisting his torso to find the mortal who completed the invocation.

He'd seen his share of arcanists trying to invoke him. It used to be the other way around: he had to go out of his way to tempt humankind, but for the past few centuries ambitious little men (always men!) had been looking for him instead.

“Mr... Demon?” a feeble voice called.

“I am Beelphegor!” he thundered.

The voice spoke again: “Yes, of course, sorry, Mr. Beelphegor. Mr. Beelphegor... are you ok?”

The demon huffed through his horse-like nostrils and raised his eyebrows. He looked towards the creature who had spoken, a young human of uncertain gender with bright blue hair and a black outfit.

“Am I... ok?” he echoed, confused.

“Mr. Beelphegor, you seem to be stuck in my floor.”

The demon looked down and saw he was indeed buried up to his bellybutton into the floor. He pushed himself up but his curled horns scraped the ceiling, causing some of the paint to fall.

“Why did you summon me in such a small space?” the demon screeched in frustration.

“I did not summon you, Mr. Beelphegor. I would never risk my deposit like that.” The human took a long sigh looking at the state of their apartment. They had been so careful. “I bet it was the guy downstairs.”

“Uh?” The demon grunted, lowering himself to look the human in the eye. They didn't seem intimidated.

“White guy in his forties, bald, has a few tattoes... probably a nazi?”

“Not the nazis again...” The demon growled pinching his nose

The human nodded sympathetically. “Yep.”

“Ok, well, it seems there was a misunderstanding. I'm just going to...” Beelphegor trailed off as he pointed down, signalling he was going to lower himself to the floor below.

“Sure, no, I understand, these things happen. I have to go to work anyway, so...”

“I hope it wasn't too much trouble... Miss... ter...?”

“Skye. Just Skye.”

“Skye. Cool name.”

“Likewise.”

The demon's face twisted as if he had touched something disgusting.

“Oh no.... there's... something wet...” he said with a grimace. Skye watched him disappeared below the floorboard, then the demon let out a small “Oh!” followed by a giggle.

“Everything ok, Mr. Beelphegor?”

“Oh, yes, yes. I killed him. Stepped right on him.”

There was a long silence.

After a few moments, Skye walked up to the crater on their floor and looked down. The glowing red eyes of the demon stared up at them.

“Nice,” they said, and gave the demon a thumbs up.