The matchstick flared like an explosion in the darkness around me. I lit the candle, the wick caught, and it slowly spluttered to life. I sat back in my chair and the candle's light made shadows on the wall in front of me.
"Right, let's talk." I said to the darkness and the world around me buzzed with the steady hum of power, a whisper of evil and a silent grin that would have made a shark proud.
Aazthooth's clawed fingers rested on my shoulder, drumming a slow beat to a song I'd never heard.
"It's Ozzy." said Azzthooth, reading my thoughts, "from his next album."
"This is just plain wrong man." I said, "now I'll be looking out for his next album with so much fucking anticipation."
I could feel Azzthooth's grin spread wider above my head, the bastard was enjoying this.
"So, what's it going to be this time, little brother?" he asked, neglecting my thoughts.
"Ah, you know, there is this…"
"…girl in your school." he completed.
"Yeah man, and …"
"…you want her."
"You know me Azz, and you know how it is."
"Yes, yes, I know, I know."
"I could sacrifice a chicken you know."
"Just a chicken for a full chick?" he scowled.
"Ok, two, I can't steal more man, you know my dad, he will fuck me up."
"She's a virgiiiin." Azzthooth sang with a snicker.
"Three chickens, and that's it! I'll do them on a moonless night too but I'm not topping that."
"Shake on that." Azzthooth spat in his hand and lowered the sizzling palm towards me.
I shook his hand, the warmth turned to a searing heat and the smell of my burning flesh filled my nostrils. I winced at the pain, but somehow the thoughts of getting laid dulled the throbbing pain in my hand.
"Right then," said Azzthooth, "I got to go get some spells working, you better catch them chickens!"
This piece started as a writer seeking inspiration from the demons, but wait! That was Faust!...so, it materialized into what you read just now. Next part? Oh surely! But I have no freaking idea what will happen in that…let's see.
Oh, and a story contest, soon…