Chapter 1: Insomnia

"Damn it"

I threw my manuscript from across the room. As it landed perfectly in the bin, I took out another page and started writing

You can call me John. Twenty three years old, I'm a struggling writer trying to make ends meet after being fired from my last job

Why would I choose writing as my money-maker now? Probably have something to do with the fact that I used to write fanfiction back in highschool. It became a hobby and I figured might as well give it a try

So far it has been terrible. My first book flopped horribly. My second work which is a wish-fulfillment isekai net me enough money to last for only three months, and now I'm struggling to shit out another one that can keep me fed

I sighed and got out of my seat. I took out my phone to search for ideas, various missed calls greeting me as I did so

I already decided to have mythological horror as the theme to my next literature piece

Demons are an important subject in any religion and culture. They symbolize unspeakable evil, as well as the deranged nature of men. Malevolent, selfish and cruel, those are the terms describing them best—Good writing material

I can cover all these subjects in any given ground and turn them into a interesting story

A married man's endeavor with an enigmatic Succubus in his dream that turned to ruin his love for his family and ultimately of him selling his mortal soul to her

A trickery of a Devil to a century-old astronomer, giving temptation to knowledge unforbidden at the hidden cost of driving him mad with grief to the cosmic potential

A child's imaginary friend who is friendly at first sight but slowly become more sinister as he grew up under his parent's abuse—the blurring line of reality inside a psycholath's mind

Short story ideas pour from one braincell to the next, considering the structural integrity of their plotline, before giving an "approval" in my mind

Considering each one takes from two to five thousand words, that's four to ten pages each. If I can reduce the font size for less pages, that'll be enough for over 200 pages

I got down again, and began writing

______

Over the course of the three month period I ended up with 72 stories, with a bidaily chapter completion frenquency

I ended up binding them into a compilation named "Ars Goetia". The name was chosen in tandem with the 72 famous fiends recorded in the Lesser Key of Solomon

At first, I only intended for each chapters to serve as an introduction to one of the devil's working. However, the more I got in the more powerful I made them

There was something pushing at the back of my mind, waiting to be let out...and so I did, allowing my imagination to wander free of extra thoughts

A silly Succubus into the manifestation of excess desire within humanity, primal and lustful to its core

The cosmic demon into a keeper of eternal knowledge, seeking pain to those who wish to cross its realm

The existensial-warring devil into the conceptual second ego of those who allow evil to exist within them

What can I say? It just sound more right and...more mythologicaly accurate of demons, even when I don't know shit about their evolution in history

I ended up submitting the two hundred page binding to my publisher editor, Grayson, on Sunday.

He was sitting at the cafe as promised when I arrived. I greeted him, to which he responded with the nod. When courtesy is all done, we got straight to business

"I see you still haven't bother to buy a computer" Grayson looked over my manuscript "Look at this. You've handwritten all of them. Now some of the guys will have to retype the whole thing"

"Writing on paper just seems more natural to me. Allow the creative juice to get flowing" I shrugged "Anyway, is it looking good?"

"The writing's fine. I can see you're going with the archaic wording route to create greater imersion and challenge reader's perception, but there's only one problem"

"Which is?"

"The name of course. Ars Goetia was already a famous historical piece in demonology. The demon in this story carried the same name, but you've made drastic changes to their design"

"I like to think of it as modern adaptation of demons while not viewing through the lens of an ancient's mystical eyes. What would you imagine evil would be like in the modern world? A three-headed goat that could swallow you whole?"

"Fair enough, but I'd still insist on changes to the title"

"Come on. Do you think Solomon who lives thousands of years ago would care about copyright law?"

I groaned at the look he sent me

"Change the title to "72". I'll also throw in an acknowledgement note at the start so it doesn't trigger those goth girls"

"Very good! I see nothing wrong now, so I'll just submit it to the editorial department. We'll notify you on whether it gets published or not" Grayson winked "Call me an optimist, but I think this will really sell"

______

I can't sleep these past few nights

Grayson hadn't called back—of course, it's only been a few days. The anticipation for his message is slowly getting to me

The nightmares I experienced recently must be because I was too anxious. I tried to close my eyes, but...something just keep bugging me about the manuscript

Did I really made the right choice dipping into mythology? Some of the changes I made have been less than ideal.

I can't place my hands on them. As I read over them a hundred times before, not a single thing is out of place

The lights turned on. I threw on my coat and walked out the room, hoping some fresh air will help me sleep easier

I stepped into the darkness. Not a single streetlamp present near my neighborhood. Past seven, everything is a pitch black, illuminated only by the faint moonlight above

It remind me of the third chapter in my book. About a guy taking a walk in the middle of the night after his bout of insomnia amd his encounter with a demon of Solomon

Yes, this is the inspiration for it. Many nights when I can't catch a wink, the moonlight always seem to soothe my psyche. I unconsciously connected it with the demon

After all, demons comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable. That is their nature

My peaceful mood was interrupted as I found someone had approached me from behind. The next noise alerted me

A click of the safety trigger being turned off

"Give me all your money" His raspy voice scratched at my ear

"Hey man, I'm not sure you notice, but 90% of the people in this neighborhood don't have shit. That's why we have get these bitchass no streetlight, run down apartments, yeah?"

"I don't care. Give me your money"

The hell is wrong with this guy? I frowned. Remembering a character from the story with that same dialogue— a robber who was killed by the demon

Fucking hell. Somebody's actually being so cringe in real life that I have to compare it to a character in my book.

"Ok. I'll show you" I reached into my pocket slowly and pulled out a dusty leather wallet "This bad boy hasn't eaten any new cash in almost a year. Here"

I opened it. A fly buzzed out from inside like one of those outdated cartoon in the 2000's. The man took a look at it, then at me, before giving me a punch to the face

"Jobless loser"

"I fucking took offense to that" I yelled through gritted teeth "No wait I don't, syke bitch!"

I lunged at him and grabbed the gun from his hand. I stumbled as the mugger kicked me to the ground in response. He bolted off into the darkness of the alley

The gun is still in my hand. I sighed and opened it. There were no bullets inside, just as I thought. It was a toy

People who resort to mugging poor people are often the despairing sort. No dignity and fucks given to their action

"Whatever" I sighed and returned back the way I came. The encounter ruined my mood. The asshole mugger is dead the next time I see him pulling his shit again

Something brushed past my legs in the darkness. I was startled and looked around to see nothing

Probably a stray cat or so. I shrugged and continued on my way to home. Strangely enough, that sense of anxiety I have earlier is gone. The walk must have helped

I manage to get a good sleep that night

________

I awoke to the sound of police siren sounding the neighborhood

Yawning, I got out of bed and prepare for the day. As I looked at my phone, there was a message from Grayson

[ Publisher gave the OK. We've digitalizing the book now]

I hum a jaunty tune and began to make breakfast. Bread and two eggs today since I'm feeling extra generous

"Ooh, is it just me or is everything extra pretty today?"

I gaze at the cloudless blue sky out the window. The breath of fresh air I took in fill me with a sense of peacefulness

Soon it was time for me to go and receive my payment for the manuscript. I put on my clothes and walked through the door

The road to the publication office were filled with police cars coming and going. I stopped to listen to them

"Suspect still unidentified but we're trying our best—"

"—Body unrecognizable. Flayed skin and severe laceration across facial features"

"Wild animal attack? Nothing that large and strong exist. Not even a bear could—"

A sudden urge to see enveloped me. I pulled over and glanced at the crime scene. There was a lot of blood

My eyes were then drawn to the huge clawmarks that left behind their trail on the thick concrete surface.

A wild animal attack right in the middle of the city?

"I'm moving from this neighborhood the moment I get my money" I mutter to myself and walked away

_______

"Author. Why did you make this book about Goetia?"

"Because the TYPEMOON one is shit"