“There is no ctrl+del for death.”

“There is no ctrl+del for death,” said the demon, looking at the young witch who’d summoned him with perturbation. This was a more threatening expression than it was meant to be, but considering the horns and halo of flame above said horns and the jet black eyes lacking sclera, the demon couldn’t help it.

“First of all,” said the witch, continuing to scroll through an article on necromancy on Dark Wikipedia. “How did you do that with your mouth? And how did I understand it?”

The demon shrugged. “Language,” he said, as if that explained it. “Are you going to let me out or let me go, or am I stuck here for the foreseeable future?”

“Can’t see the future, haven’t taken the course yet,” said the witch absently, and then finally deigned to turn around and eye the demon with a morose expression.

The demon eyed him right back, without the moroseness.

“I didn’t mean to kill him, is the thing,” said the witch, biting the inside of his cheek. “It was an accident. And like. I can’t afford to fail another course! And my professor will fail me, and then I’ll have even more money to pay back, and are you sure you can’t help me? Aren’t you supposed to grant me a wish if I summon you? I’ve summoned you!” They flapped an arm in the demon’s direction, nearly breaking past the circle that bound him.

Nearly.

“I’m a demon, not a djinn,” said the demon.

The witch’s shoulders slumped, and he buried his face in his hands. The demon shifted uncomfortably. Was the witch crying? He hated when people cried. He never knew what to do.

“Well,” he said, when the witch’s shoulders began to tremble a little. “I mean. I have a cousin who is the purveyor of the souls of familiars? Maybe I can get them to…”

The demon faltered as the witch’s head whipped up and he hastily wiped tear streaks from his cheeks, eyes gone wide and hopeful. “Yeah?” he asked breathlessly. “I mean, yeah if you could—that would be great!”

“It would require payment,” said the demon slowly, “And a grocery trip. And bribes. And also, to let me out of this circle.”

“Yeah, ok, yeah, no, I can do that!” the witch exclaimed, toppling out of his chair in his excitement.

“Um,” said the demon, watching the witch reach out to erase the binding sigil in the circle, “Don’t—uh. Contracts? Should—contracts should be. A thing. We—how in the seven hells did you summon me?”

The witch froze and looked up sheepishly, fingers resting on the sigil that would unleash the demon. “Um,” he said, “Dark Wiki-how had a good step-by-step article and a predilection for demon summoning is in my genes?”

“#$%,” said the demon, closing his eyes. How the witch had survived long enough to get into university, if this was how he regularly did things, the demon didn’t know. It would be an embarrassment to kill him and wreak havoc. The witch was an idiot. What was worse, a good hearted idiot.

There was nothing infernally clever about using him.
​
The witch blinked, there on the floor at the demon’s feet. “No really, how are you doing that?”

prompt via request by leave-her-a-tome