The Wicked | WooSan

3

"It seems like you already know the answer to that question," he smirks, giving me a sarcastic bow. "I am Wrath, the sixth prince of Hell. You mortals call us the Wicked."

There's a brief moment of silence as we stare at each other, my heart thudding so loudly in my chest I'm sure he can hear.

Wooyoung, get your shit together. There's no way they're real! Jongho was probably playing a prank on you earlier.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, a sense of defeat washing over me. "That's a great prank, but those guys don't exist. Also, don't you think it's a little cruel that you're playing a prank on someone that just tried to commit suicide?"

I shake my head again and try to stand up only to be hit by a wave of dizziness so strong I immediately keel over, falling back onto my knees. "I just want to die. Why can't I just die!"

"Hey! Be careful, you just came to!" The guy exclaims. "And I'm real! I am Wrath!"

"Sure you are," I grumble, slowly moving so that I'm sitting against a wall. "I strongly suggest you see psychological help."

"That's my line. Why were you trying to kill yourself?"

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"Fine. Then how were you able to summon me?"

"I followed a diagram and spoke some Latin. Oh, I also used my blood. For the ritual."

Wrath falls silent, empty eyes boring into mine. I don't even know what to think anymore. If he actually is Wrath, and I'm starting to believe he is, that would mean I'm a mage, because only mages can summon demons. Yunho would probably be a mage too, which would mean we could've lived in the mage tower, away from Mara. We could've lived happier lives. We could've learned how to protect ourselves and Yunho...Yunho would still be here, with me.

I can feel tears welling in my eyes so I clench my teeth, Jongho's words from a long time ago echoing through my head: you should never show weakness in front of a Wicked.

"You're a mage," he says incredulously. "What's your circle?"

Mage circles are a measure of how powerful a mage is, and the ranking goes from one-star, the lowest, all the way up to nine-star. Nine-star mages are capable of natural disasters. The problem is, I've never received any training. I don't even know if I have mana that would be considered normal by mage standards.

I shrug. "I didn't even know I was a mage until five minutes ago."

"But you summoned me. A prince of Hell. A Wicked. That's at least fifth-circle."

"Maybe it was my blood."

"Anyways, regardless of circle," he waves his hand in the air and a piece of paper and a pen appear out of nowhere, floating towards me, "sign a contract with me."

"A what now? Do you think I'm in any state to be signing anything? Isn't this fraud?"

"Give me your soul."

"Okay."

"I can offer yo—wait, what?" Stunned, he flicks his hand and the contract disappears.

"Will I die in return? Can't you just kill me now?"

Wrath sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's not how these contracts work. And I'm not allowed to harm you until sunrise because you included a protection spell in your summoning. If something were to happen to you, I would be penalized. So, why did you summon me, human?"

I look at him. Really look at him. His eyebrows are tugged in a little bit of a frown and his lips are pursed into a line. His shirt's clinging to his body because it's wet, probably from when he jumped into the ocean to save me, and his eyes are staring directly into mine. He's...worried. But why?