Chapter 4: Peanut Butter

It has been three days since the robbery happened.

The media made a fuss about it, calling the event a once-in-a-century heist. Whereas the police investigstion had gone on a cold trail with no clue to follow

Nobody was found. A missing person reported, and five million dollars on the loose. They described it as the perfect crime masterminded by a genius in the criminal world

Yeah...that's bullshit

I moved out from the rundown apartment. My new house is a flat near the main street, with working water and electricity

Five million is a lot. And yeah, I've been avoiding one topic until now. Very observational of you to notice

Demons live with me now

"Aamon. Peanut butter or jam?" I held both jar to the side "Yes? No? I'll just use both of them"

I slathered them on the toasted slice and turned around. When I turned back, both the jars and the entire bread was gone

Not a single sound was heard. It was as though they had been swallowed down the pit of non-existence

Demons don't like to be seen

It was established in my book that their true form does not exist. They only manifest in the physical world through metaphysical phenomenons, of which they cannot be detected

A demon can only be perceived when you have crossed the boundary of the physical world. Were I want to meet them in person, I would have to transcend my mortality

"You still hungry?" I placed another jar of peanut butter on the counter "Gorge yourself out, bitch"

It was surprising how calm I was being. I suppose it's the shock at seeing my creation come to life

No, I was coping. Normal processing will shutdown whenever a person comes into shock that exceed their mental capacity, such as the fact that they saw a literal demon

What am I suppose to do? Chase the thing that could rip entire bodies apart with its claw from my house?

I sighed as the second, and third jar of peanut butter disappeared into nothingness. It wasn't Aamon, but the rats who took them

The plague mouse was a little more controllable on that front.

Their attack on New York was halted by me before it could turn into a world wide pandemic, much to their protest. Now they're living under my basement. Last I saw, they've began to resort to eating each other from lack of food

"Cannibalism. For when overpopulation become its own solution"

I began to make my own breakfast. Ramen noodle bought at seven eleven at the cheap price of half a condom, because expenses

The aroma hit my nose. I inhaled the shit like it's cocaine. Oh how I wish that was cocaine. At least that would explain everything

_______

I wonder if this is just a hallucination I dreamed up

You ever wonder watch those Hollywood slasher movie where it was revealed at the end that it's all a dream?

Nightmare on Elm street put a twist on that, but I disgress. The horror genre has long been focused on surprise ending to the point where every movie is a copy paste of Shyamalan's work

Even Shyamalan's work copied himself. A fantasy within a dream, ultimately meaningless in their magnitude

"But a dream and reality...are they that different in the first place"

"Who said that?" I turned around. No one was there. Realizing I was hallucinating, I returned to focusing on the book I'm reading

It was the manuscript I've written to 72. In it detailed my description of the demons of Ars Goetia

"The hierarchy of the demons were divided into seven ranks : Kings, princes, dukes, marquis, counts, earls and presidents

They were separated by their authority, both categorized by personal power and the number of legions they commanded

Presidents are the weakest class of demon, in charge of minor territories in Hell, whereas Kings are the most powerful rulers"

Something sparked in my hand. A blue, electric currents running forth from my forearm, which filled me with a sense of power

It was a whisper of temptation. Begging me to use it. To call forth the hellish creatures waiting on the other side

This would confirm my suspicion: Along with demons, the existence of magic is no longer a fabrication from history

I quelled it. The magic spark died down, and with it, the voices in my head. Sighing, I put down the book

"Not enough. I need to understand how this works more"

_______

Aamon followed me. I could tell his presence stalking the shadow of the streets I walk. Unseen, but not absent

The outside is crowded. Many people is enjoying themselves on the weekend, some of which decided to take a walk like me. A peaceful evening stroll can relax your mind

"Oops. Sorry, dude" A guy bumped into me. I accepted his apology and moved on, but my demon had stopped

A sense of invinsible bloodlust rose in the air. I felt dread rising in my stomach as it was aimed toward the previous man

"Will you fucking stop that?!"

Heads were turned. Dozens of eyes look at the screaming boy like he had lost his mind. Said boy stepped back and ran

I could still feel Aamon's killing urge infecting my mind even as we got away

"What is up with you? He only fucking bumped into me"

It didn't answer. It didn't need to, because the answer came to me.

Harm is done in retaliation against an act of harm. Justice is payback toward the person who wronged you

Marquis Aamon is a demon of [Vengeance]. He will automatically perceive any mistake toward me as malevolence

No matter how small the slight, the only retribution is death

"You. What did you do?"

Something flashes in my mind

I saw the cashier who shortchanged me at the gas station. It then showed her decapitated body hanged from a wooden post

The kid who spilled his ice cream on my pants. His corpse sliced into pieces and hung above his parent's bedroom

The girl who rejected me in highschool. Her broken home with an unlocked door, showing her being vertically torn in half

I stumbled backward as numerous other visions flooded my brain with screams of pain and frightful whimpers

"No...no...shit" I took a deep breath. Aamon is hovering above me as an invisible spectre. I looked up with a glare. This demon...it is apparent it does not care about killing people at all

"Don't fucking do that again, or I will send you back to hell"

There were no confirmation nor denial. But I understand, he had received my message. And the demon is not happy

At least until there's a way to banish them back where they came from, I need to control the creatures I now have in command

______

The library offers no answer. Of course it don't.

Occultism isn't exactly popular in this day and age, more so the ones from the Solomonic era

I browsed through books about demons. Rituals, sacrifices, and chants from the medieval era where such things are common. There were numerous, and many of which are bogus

They all teach you how to summon a demon and made it do your bidding, but never one to send them back

Perhaps that is the fate of those summoners— Forever bound by a spirit of evil and turned into their slaves. I set the book down when a noise nearby caught my attention

"Excuse me. It's almost time to close down" the librarian told me from a corner "Please come back tomorrow"

"I'm almost finished"

"Sir, you're fifteen minutes past hour closing hour. We'll call in security if you don't leave right now"

Aamon growled at her from behind. I only rolled my eyes, getting up from my seat and returned the book to the shelf

"Belial. Help me with her"

I watched as the librarian's irises expanded, her posture slowly relaxing until she dropped to her knees in front of me

Submission by mental manipulation. The victim lost their will to resist, utterly becoming a pupet to the demon's whim

"What would you have me do?"

"Lend me yout library card. Gather all books related to demonology and let me borrow under your name"

She only uttered an affirmation and got up to finish the task.

I watched on impassively as the woman went about hastily gathering the mentioned articles, looking happy

Belial is a king of Hell, and is therefore one the most powerful individual in the Goetia hierarchy.

What is the power that he wield? It is [Lordship]. The authority to command others as a supreme existence. Any one organism with sentience can be controlled, therefore dominated

That power can grow infinitely with no end in sight. You could manipulate the thought and action of everyone in the world, from the most powerful billionaires to the lowliest thugs

Implanting the thought of war on an entire country, and they will start a global nuclear conflict

Commanding everyone in the world to celibate, and humanity will go extinct in 100 years with no descendant

Even the army of rats was formed as part of his contract to me, giving me temporary authority over the rodent

The possibility in itsef is limitless, and therefore terrifying

"Here you go, sir" Placing a thick stack of book on the desk, the librarian let out a smile "I registered it under my name. Do you need anything else?"

"No. That will be all, thank you"

_______

The real question is: Has the demons always existed before the book, or did my book the genesis of their creation?

Answering that question will be vital if I want to understand how they came to be, and how to return them to Hell

In the first place, I have an idea of how they were summoned. Since demon are creatures formed by desire, it is because I had unknowingly invoked their concept

With Aamon, I wished death on my mugger as a desire for revenge. Hence the demon of Vengeance

I summoned Belial upon telling the rats to stop moving, indicating a desire for control. Hence, the demon of Lordship

Desire is the basis for sin. A strong enough motivator for evil enable a pathway to the supernatural. And the book I wrote is the catalyst for summoning them

I called my editor the next day

"Grayson? I want to cancel my book's publication" I told him over the phone "Tell them I changed my mind"

"I'm afraid it's not possible. The publisher had reviewed your work and saw great potential in it. It wouls result in a great loss if any time is wasted"

"Great. I don't care"

"Publication already started yesterday. 10,000 copies is coming out the market comes July, and 3,000 more are on the way"

"I'm the author. I should have the final say in whether my book got published or not you fucking moron!"

"But you already sold us the manuscript and sign the waiver relaying their handling to the company..."

"Fine then" I slammed down the phone, ending the call before Grayson could reply "I'll take matters into my own hand"

I turned to the other corner of the room. They have been there, watching as I converse with him

"Belial, grant me control over the publisher"

"What are you doing?" I asked when the silence stretched on "Are you really disobeying me now?"

Surely they would want to be back in Hell, right?

Fear suddenly rushed through my mind. I ran to the door to see its locked. Try as I might, the exit remained unmoving. I moved on to escape through the window

Something pulled at me. The next moment I was suspending midair, hanging to what felt like the tip of a sharp claw

"Aamon, let me go!" A yell tore through me  as I was dragged off "Let me go, you bitch. No peanut butter for you!"

The closet opened, and I was thrown inside. Its entrance slammed closed with such force the hinges creaked loudly.

Left alone, I kicked at the door in panic to no avail

It gradually slowed down, until all I could hear is the sound of my own breathing.

It took another minute for the realization to come in

_______

How many hours has it been since I was locked here? Time seems to disappear when you stop perceiving them. Being left in my own thoughts, i have come to term witb my situation

"They are trying to encourage the publication of the book"

The demons don't want to be sent back to Hell. Therefore, they must desire to be free to roam the world.

I had foolishly thought they'd listen to me. What am I really? I'm just a normal human being used as their tool. A mean to and end

These fucking things never intend to serve me in the first place

Something had settled down in me. I no longer felt fear despite the claustrophobic prison. The darkness now appears almost calming, emboldening thought not of my own

Closing my eyes, I focused on the energy running through me.

The desire to cancel it is nonexistent, much to my surprise. It was as though I had stopped resisting the whisper of damnation in them

"...Maybe I can summon one more demon"

Calling forth one of these supernatural abominations that could wreak havoc on the human world is far from the best decision.

However, I simply have no other choice

The magic energy converged, before exploding from the palm of my hand