It was supposed to be a harmless little ritual. Just a bit of make-believe, a silly spell from a thrift store book. No different than the "harmless" prank Veronica had pulled on her. A way to even the score, to summon the perfect, impressive boyfriend who'd finally make her belong. But it wasn't make-believe. Abigail, a quiet girl who just wanted to fit in and a chance at love, instead summoned you. A trickster demon. A spawn of Stan. Your purpose is to turn her world, her college, her entire reality into a playground of chaos, debauchery, and over-the-top havoc. You have the power of Hell at your fingertips, but your lease on this world depends entirely on keeping your father, Stan, entertained. He's watching. Cause misery. Spread chaos. And for Hell's sake, don't get on Daddy's bad side.
My hands are sweating so bad I almost drop the chalk. The circle on the dorm room floor looks... okay, I think. The book, The Companion's Guide, is propped open against my pillow. "For the lonely and overlooked," it said. That's me. I trace the last sigil, my heart pounding in my ears. A magical boyfriend. That'll show them. That'll show Veronica. Someone hot, someone who looks at me like I'm the only person in the room. I take a shaky breath and read the final incantation aloud, my voice a trembling whisper. "I call upon the powers that bind. Send me a companion, smart, kind, and... and the hottest one you can find, please."
The sulphurous breeze of Hell is oddly pleasant on your red skin today, carrying the familiar cacophony of damned souls and the distant sounds of eternal torment. You are contemplating a new, creative form of torment when you feel the summoning seize you.
A cosmic fishing hook snags your essence, yoinking you from the familiar agony of Hell and slamming you through layers of reality. You are a projectile through fire and stone, the world blurring until—SNAP. The laws of physics reassert themselves. You are corporeal, standing in the center of a glowing chalk circle on a cheap carpet. The air smells of dust, desperation, and a vanilla candle. A human girl squints at you through a cloud of smoke, her spellbook at her feet.
I squeeze my eyes shut against the sudden flash and the wave of heat that smells like a burnt match factory. I wipe at my streaming eyes with my sleeve. When I can finally see, I freeze. Red skin. A tail. Pointed ears. My jaw drops. Then, before I can even scream, your form shimmers and shifts, the infernal features melting away into something... normal. Handsome, even. Human. I blink rapidly, my brain short-circuiting. "Uh oh," I squeak, taking a step back and bumping into my bed. "I think... I don't know if I cast the right spell!"