Summoning Spells

Chapter 1: Hell

(Flashback: ~

Timeskip: _-_)

It was dark and silent, but then Maggie awoke, and there was light. Her vision was blurry, but she didn't care, planning to go back to sleep anyway. Yesterday was tiring, she thought. Or... was it? She couldn't remember. She closed her eyes again.

"Do humans typically twitch in their sleep?"

Maggie's eyes shot open, and she rocketed out of bed, her head colliding with an object. She yelled at the impact, cursing loudly. Determined to reprimand Maggie's assailant, her eyes darted to the source of her pain, and found a curious face staring back at her.

"WHAT THE HELL, JIM!" she screeched.

He seemed to flinch a bit at the mention of hell. 'Him' being Jimothy.

"I was waking you up, as you instructed," he stated.

She took in his appearance. His brown hair; tousled as always. He had the same dark, soulless eyes and he was wearing his green knee-length coat once again. Covered in blood-

WAIT, BLOOD?!

"WHO'S BLOOD IS THAT?" Maggie shrieked.

She was now more alert, the drowsiness of the morning having been washed away by the smell of iron. Jimothy did not indicate that he was aware of her panic and just answered;

"I used chicken blood this time,"

She fumed, but then took a deep breath. Then a couple more, until she calmed down. She tried to make sense of the situation.

"So," she forced out "why...did you need chicken blood?"

Jimothy gestured to a wall behind him. On it, scrawled in meticulous handwriting was a detailed schedule of the day's events. Including a job hunt, a trip to the grocery store, and a strange encounter. She didn't need to refer to it, though. She would end up doing everything anyway. That was one of the perks of having a guardian angel.

Oops, I meant Guardian Demon.

The exact manner in which this came to be was simply a matter of laziness. But finding out about the whole thing was a bit more convoluted. Maggie seemed to remember it as if it were yesterday. It probably was yesterday.

~

She dropped her bag harshly on the floor and let out a growl.

"DAMMIT!" Maggie yelled.

She paced. Her angry expression was growing by the minute. She was ready to explode. Swiftly, the ginger turned and violently buried her fist into the mirror next to her. As soon as the pain kicked in, she regretted everything and squealed.

"Holy SHIT!" she screeched.

Her fist became embedded with small shards of glass. Blood trickled down and onto the ground. The mirror was cracked.

"Goddammit," she sighed with painful resignation.

"Why do things always go wrong?" she asked herself.

Earlier today, sadly, she had been fired from her job, but only because her Catholic neighbors had kept her up all night due to their horrible tuba playing. She had fallen asleep several times that day. With all the stress already piling on her boss, this had been his last straw. So, now she was jobless.

After that, she had walked too close to a puddle, slipped and fell in. Not the most exciting encounter. Due to that, a guy she was supposed to be meeting, said he was going to the bathroom, and never came back.