The Butcher was no minor demon to summon. His price was always taken at random before his arrival as the final piece for his summoning. Or rather it was predetermined by him. That price was what had earned him his name as The Butcher.
It had been a while since The Butcher had been summoned. His price for waiting made him greedy and desire two limbs when he at last felt the pull of the call. An arm and a leg. Both from the same side. Yes. That was the price this time. His pound of flesh.
The unspoken deal struck and in a roar of heat and flame the demon found himself in a familiar ring of gore. Screaming greeted him as it always had. Usually the first few were over his price of human flesh from the summoner and the rest were over his frightening appearance.
Before him though was the crumpled form of a child. Rail thin and lanky judging by the build of the demon’s particular skill set. That same skill set had him wondering just who all this child wanted dead so badly. Perhaps a bully or abusive family member.
“You’re real,” the human mumbled between shaky breathes and tears. His blood pooling onto the old wooden floors slowly. “I wasn’t sure you,” he winced trying to look up but hunched more to the side in agony. “Did ya really need to take two?” he tried to laugh but it was caught in his throat.
The Butcher grunted for an answer. “What do you want?”
“To not bleed out on the bloody floor, ya dipstick!” the human growled only to quickly change tune when the demon tilted his head. “That’s the pain talkin,” he corrected. “The name is Jamison Fawkes.”
“What do you want?” The Butcher asked again. It wasn’t unheard of to have a talker summon him but he wanted to get to the point before the human died of bloodloss. He wouldn’t be summoned again if he didn’t have some sort if reputation for getting the job done.
“Right. How to word this right..”
He talked so much for a person in clear pain. The demon noting the clenched jaw and sharp intakes of breath then the more subtil details. The small cluster of scars on his other arm most couldn’t see or rather chose to ignore. How he could count every rib under the taught and dehydrated skin. This was a desprate human but one that knew how to just survive. Up till now.
“I want a friend.”
“….” He was summoned for the task of finding a friend? He was surely joking. He waited for a laugh then the real task. There was mostly silence. Just the human looking up at him and holding the stub of his arm with his left hand.
….come on and laugh. Any second.
His summoner didn’t laugh. He was serious.
“What?”
“You heard me. I want a friend. A real friend! Someone to always be there for me and I them. Someone to goof off with and tell my secrets to and-”
The kid’s list was growing as was the blood puddle. The Butcher was feeling the beginnings of a headache.
“So you summoned me?” the demon most affiliated with revenge murder.
“Yeah.”
That was the dumbest, most idiotic, honest answer he had ever heard. “You sure you don’t want me to kill someone instead? Skin em? Put their head on a spit?”
“Oh heavens no!”
The Butcher watched as the human gently slumped more to one side. The pained breathing starting to get more relaxed. Blood loss was a hell of a thing. Like drowning but instead of a peaceful feeling you could feel nothing but dread. Even so this kid was handling it all in stride. Far better than kings of old he made deals with.
“I just want a friend. A best friend. Just ta know what it’s like… You know?”
He was insane. Still. This was a bizarre situation and now that his summoner was starting to black out he had less time to change his mind for a more reasonable deal.
“That’s all I want. All I ever… Ever wanted.”
Fuck! The human was out and still bleeding. Damn it!
“So be it.” This was going to be the second time he ever had to patch up a human for a long term goal. Damn little brat. “Jamison was it?” The Butcher grunted. This was going to be one weird deal until he could later claim his soul. “You have no idea what you just asked for…”
I am Terra 