The Demon's Mark

Bargaining

Jack sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by the dim glow of candles flickering in a carefully constructed circle. The apartment was eerily quiet, the air heavy with tension as Jack stared at the intricate formation he'd spent days creating. Salt lined the edges of the summoning circle, small crystals placed at precise intervals. He'd bought everything he needed — oils, candles, herbs — from every obscure occult shop in the city.

It should have felt ridiculous. The fact that he was about to summon a demon — an actual demon — to try and get his boyfriend's soul back was insane.

Just a few weeks ago, Jack had been living an ordinary life. He didn't believe in this sort of thing. But grief did strange things to people. It twisted them, drove them to the brink. And Jack had jumped headfirst over that edge.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he began the incantation, his voice trembling slightly as he whispered the ancient words.

"Et voco ad te, daemonum Alexium, qui commercia animarum—"

The air in the room shifted. A faint pressure built around him, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Jack's breath hitched, but he kept going, the words of the summoning ritual spilling from his lips faster and faster, almost desperate now.

The candles flickered violently, their flames stretching and writhing as if caught in a sudden gust of wind. The salt barrier around the circle began to glow faintly, a thin line of light tracing the edges. Jack's pulse raced. This was it. It was actually happening.

And then, with a sudden crack, the air inside the circle shimmered, warping and twisting. Jack fell silent, his eyes wide as he watched. The shimmering intensified, the outline of a figure slowly taking shape in the center of the circle.

When the distortion cleared, a man stood before him — or at least, something that looked like a man. He was tall, with an easy, relaxed stance, his posture almost casual as he looked around with a faintly amused expression. He was startlingly handsome, a mop of brown hair, that swept across his forehead, stubble peppered his face and jaw, he had sharp features and dark, piercing eyes that seemed to see straight through Jack.  The demon -Alexium- looked so human. Jack did a double take. He had the kind of rugged handsomeness that would make anyone do a double take. His presence was powerful, yes, but not terrifying in the way Jack had expected

But it wasn't just his face that caught Jack's attention.

It was the wings.

Large, sleek, and black as night, they unfurled slightly behind the man, the tips brushing the edges of the circle. They shimmered faintly in the candlelight, giving off an aura that made Jack's skin tingle.

The man — no, the demon — looked down at Jack, his lips curving into a smirk. He tilted his head, his smile growing as his gaze swept over Jack.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he drawled, his voice smooth and rich, with a hint of amusement.

"A handsome human who's gone and summoned me? That's unexpected. Usually, it's old men who want power or vengeance, not...you... you're different." The demon Alexium said.

His eyes lingered on Jack with an almost intimate curiosity as his gaze swept over Jack appraisingly.

"You are a heartbroken man who can barely keep himself together." Alexium teased.

Jack looked at him wide eyed.

"I-uhh..I.." Jack stuttered unsure how to respond.

"A broken heart. You poor thing." Alexium said quietly.

Jack swallowed, his throat dry. "A-are... are you Alexium?"

The demon arched an eyebrow, then let out a soft chuckle.