Writing Prompt filled oneshot book

Oops! I accidentally summoned Satan.

(Character: Regan Orris, 5'6, 15, Highschool Junior.)

If I had the choice, I wouldn't have chosen an elective.

But, alas, it's required for every student, and I chose Latin for mine. All of the other electives were too complicated for me; I suck at drawing, I can't  play any musical instruments, I'm shit at singing, I can't act to save my life, etc. So Latin it was, but what did it matter? It's a dead language anyway. Not like I'm ever gonna use it... (or will she? Lololol)

That's all I thought as I studied, but really, when am I ever going to use it? Nobody even speaks it anymore. It's like learning how to work a flip-phone, no one will even willingly use it. I flipped through pages in the big 'ol book of Latin that I bought from some lady in the beginning of the second semester. She was strange, but hey, at least I got a Latin book.

Honestly, I didn't even really need to study it, the Test really didn't do anything to our grades, considering that a lot of students never really did well with the language, but my parents insisted on me being the 'perfect' one in the class, so here I am, wasting my time.

I finally flopped a page down, and looked it over. Didn't seem that hard. And so I began to read aloud, not even thinking twice about what it meant. "Surge conspectu meo, me coram ne reveles potestatem habeo. Stare coram me et ex me est flammis inferni, Lucifer." I read it two more times to ensure that I wouldn't mess it up on the day of the test.

I sat there for a bit, flipping through pages again until I smelled a strange scent of incense— which I had none of, by the way. I looked around, and then down at my feet. I couldn't see them. I then realized that there was black fog encasing the entire lower half of my body. And if that wasn't weird enough, it was advancing to the ceiling, clouding my vision completely.

I wheezed and fanned away the gas with my hand violently, eventually able to see a figure standing in some flames that had suddenly appeared. The smoke died down, and so did the flames, leaving me hacking and coughing into my hands.

I could now make out the details of said figure, and quickly examined him up and down. He had peculiarly pretty amber eyes, messy jet black hair, black drawstring sweatpants, large golden horns, and a red, toned body. He honestly looked like an attractive crayon.

"Who do I have to sacrifice? What do you need?" The man groaned, rubbing his eyes. I had probably just woken him up. He finally opened his eyes, and stared at me with squinted eyes and a tilted head for a hot minute before finally speaking up, "are you gonna answer me? At least tell me your name." He hissed, folding his arms.

I finally found my tongue and began to form words, "Regan, I- uh, my name is Regan. I'm- um, I don't- I don't need anything, I just, uh... I was just practicing my Latin for the- uh, for the test on Wednesday," I managed to fumble out, "I didn't mean to, um, I didn't mean to summon you. Sorry..."

Still squinting, he looked around my room and hummed, his eyes finally landing on the book sitting motionless on the floor, some pages folded and dog-tipped here and there – some pages even torn a bit or entirely. He suddenly lit up like a light bulb and his eyes widened, I winced in fear a bit at his sudden mood swing, as if someone flicked on a switch inside of him.

"Oohh! You're learning Latin! Come here, come here!" He chirped, snatching the thick book off the carpet and looking at me expectantly with a cheerful look plastered onto his threatening features as he settled himself on my bed Indian style. "Come here," he whined, "I can help!" He made a waving motion with his hand towards him, beckoning me, and I was shoved forward by an unknown force.

I was pulled roughly into the crayon's lap, he brought his arms in front of me held the book open to the page where I supposedly 'commenced a ritual'. It's  not like I intended to summon the great king of hell in the middle of my fucking room.

"Hey, where did you get this book? It's filled with satanic witchcraft and other spells you shouldn't know," He muttered, flipping through the pages, "and I'm glad you didn't try to cast any of them, damn..."

"Oh, I got it from this weird woman at the strip mart some time ago." I responded, assured that I wasn't going to be killed.

"That old hag, I swear... whatever, what's done is done. 'Kay, here, this is where you called me. This phrase right here: "Surge conspectu meo, me coram ne reveles potestatem habeo. Stare coram me et ex me est flammis inferni, Lucifer". Do you know what that means, or did you even care at all?" He asked.

"Well... No and no. Gave zero fucks,  had no damn clue," I replied, "but I think I might have an idea of what."

"Damn right you should. The last word really gives it away. Honestly, it's my name. Lucifer. Kinda obvious, " he mocked, "anyways, in English it translates to "Get up the sight of my lord, do not betray the confidence of the power of me in the eyes I have. I stand before you and the flames of hell." Really, you should know this." He flicked my forehead— which gave me a headache, considering his strength.

"That sounds kinda weird," I proclaimed, rubbing my forehead.

"Yeah well, it's Latin. So shut it." He retorted, chuckling lightly.

And for the next few hours or so, he helped me study my Elective, slipping some videos of Markiplier and Jacksepiceye, and judging Troom Troom on their idiotic banana life hacks, during that time— and soon enough, I eventually passed out. Lucifer tossed the duvet over my face, startling me awake. (It feels really weird writing his name, considering that I'm not a satanist. Regan might be tho, lol) 

"Hey, I've got a kingdom to rule, so I have to leave. But if you need help with your Latin again, or you're bored— you know how to find me." He tossed me the book, and I caught it with his page open. I looked back up to him and bid farewell, waving him away so I could sleep.

And with that, he disintegrated into a cloud of black smog, and I covered my face with the comforter to avoid rolling into another coughing fit.

So, guess I'm friends with the devil himself.

•••••••••••••••••••

B O N U S

•••••••••••••••••••

R: I'm bored, can you set the school on fire or something?

Lucy: How do you even have my number.

R: That "old hag" knows some things you don't.

Lucy: Stop talking to my grandmother, would you?

R: o  s h e t

Lucy: Would you stop typing like that? It hurts my eyes.

R: i t ' s  t h e  d a n k  f o n t , L u c y

Lucy: Stop calling me that.

That was fun to write, apparently I enjoy writing about crayons. Imma draw a pic of them together, lol.

Word count – 1230 words