Burn For Me

Chapter One

It had been five years since that night. Many people had thought he was crazy when describing what he saw. For roughly a year, he was sent to therapists and psychologists from all sorts of places; he was sent to doctors and shrinks, and he was even hypnotised at one point, but no one could fix him.
As it was, they needn't have bothered.

Connor now sat on a broken mattress in a dirty apartment, flicking through the pages of an old book. There were drawing within it, scribbled in red with notes written in Latin along the sides. Connor mumbled the words that he read, searching for an answer to his undying question: how could he get to Hell?

On the night his parents were slaughtered, he had heard voices coming from the monsters. Connor could only make out one sentence before he ran.
"We will feast on your sins."
A month afterwards, he had found books in a library containing drawings that had matched the look of the monsters he had seen. The book had described them as Demons, from the fiery depths of Hell.

Over time, Connor had found more and more texts and references to these Demons, to Hell, and the dark forces that connected it all. While most people believed it was all bullshit, Connor knew it was valuable information. For he, in his anger and slight insanity, craved revenge. After all that he had read, he found no evidence that his parents could be saved; so the least he could do would be to avenge them. To make the Demons pay for what they had done.

As he continued to read, Connor could feel something inside of him, a fire that was growing, but not burning. It felt empowering, and he wanted more of it. After all, if he wanted to kill a Demon, he would first have to become one.

"Grant me fire," he breathed, "Grant me the strength of the damned, the undead. Grant me my Demon blood, so to help me in my quest. Grant me my desire. My revenge."
There was a chattering noise, and the wooden floorboards began to creak. Connor watched as symbols carved themselves into the planks, glowing red and steaming. And out from the centre of the ring of symbols came a twisted, bony hand.

Connor gasped, and scrambled backwards into a wall. The hand continued to rise, followed by an arm clad in leathery skin. Then a shoulder, and horns, and a head. Within seconds, the upper torso of a Demon rose out of the circle, uncurling itself and sizzling in a blue flame.

The Demon opened its eyes. They were blue, unlike the first Demons, and it's mouth was smaller. The Demon looked around the room, confused, and then set it's eyes on Connor.
"For what purpose did you summon me, mortal man?" It rasped.

After a long pause, Connor stood up and dusted himself down.
"My name is Connor Adams," he said grimly, "And I think you know why I summoned you."
"That is true," said the Demon, "But I must hear your request come from your mouth, or I'm afraid I won't be able to help you."
"Is that a rule, or are you just picky?"
"Both."
Connor sighed. "Fine. I want you to give me the abilities of a Demon. The most important one being the ability to travel to and from Hell."

The Demon chuckled. It wasn't a nice chuckle, it sounded cruel and mocking.
"And why would I grant you such a thing?"
"I summoned you here," Connor growled, glaring at the Demon ferociously, "And I've read your codes, your rules. If I summon a Hell Priest like yourself, and ask something of you, you have to give it to me."
"You must also know that I require payment, the amount of which depends on the severity on your request."
"And? How much?"

The Demon scratched it's chin thoughtfully. Then it smiled.
"Fifty souls of sinners."
"Fifty?!" Connor shouted, "How the fuck am I supposed to do that?!"
"You will find fifty sinners," replied the Demon, lengthening his words, "And you will kill them. Their souls will be sent straight to me, so you needn't worry about trying to make a harvest."

Connor grunted, and kicked the mattress in frustration. After a minute or so of pacing, Connor faced the Demon again.
"Fine. I'll do it. I get you fifty sinner souls, and you grant me the abilities of a Demon."
"So its a deal then?"
Connor paused.
"Deal."
"Excellent," said the Demon, smiling, "Now give me your hand. Our agreement must be sealed with our blood."

Connor stepped closer, holding out his hand. The Demon raised it's own, then slashed across Connor's palm, causing him to wince. The Demon then slashed it's own palm, and they shook hands. The Demon smiled, and Connor grimaced.

And that was the point where it all went horribly fuck up.

...