Short Little Stories

Jack took a sip from his coffee, and grimaced as he felt the familiar call of a summoning, itching right between his shoulder blades. It wasn’t fair. All he wanted was an ordinary life.

Unfortunately he was a demon, and such a life just wasn’t in the cards.

Jahqe (the Younger) had Fallen in the days of old, when the war between the angels had come to its bitter end. Oh, he hadn’t taken part in the war – the very idea of fighting with his kin had seemed anethema to him. But let’s be honest – the Star of the Morning had made many good points about the rule of Him on high, and Jahqe had found himself agreeing with them. He didn’t think it would come to war, of course. Jahqe had submitted a petition to the One above, and hoped that the entire matter would be resolved through the peace and wisdom of the Almighty.

Instead, war broke out, the rebels Fell, and Jahqe was cast into the pit along with the rest.

He spent many long years there, trying to figure out how it had all gone wrong – but it wasn’t the best of places for him, and an irresolute demon didn’t fill the incoming souls with fear.

So he had lucked out, and was tossed out of Hell as well, and ended up in the only place left – Earth proper. And, all things considered, it was great – Jack could almost live a normal life among the mortals, trying to fully attain the free will he had so envied in them, all those years ago.

But he was a creature defined by his nature, which meant there were still certain laws that bound him. And even in modern society, more than a few of those self-same mortals indulged in the black arts, and every so often sought to summon up a demon. And, the laws of magic being what they were, when the summoning magic went a-searching, it was far easier to find one of the Fallen what was loitering about on Earth, rather than on what were, strictly speaking, entirely different realms of existence.

And the Call could not be denied.

Jack ducked into the bathroom of the Starbucks, tossing his unfinished drink into the trashcan with a mournful sigh. His features melancholy, he let his form assume its natural shape as magic pulled him halfway across the globe.

It really just wasn’t fair.