Goetic Justice 5

Chapter 5: Gainful Employment

Ryan stood in front of the mirror, trying to straighten his wrinkled shirt and struggling with his tie. It was the day of the job interview, and he had but a scant hour to get himself prepared. It wasn’t as if he had never worn a suit before, but it was Becky who had advised him on clothing, he didn’t know the first thing about dressing snappy. She had prepared his wardrobe, helped him shop for clothes, ironed his shirts. Without her, he was a mess.

He trusted his demonic allies to help him get through this, but he hadn’t seen Nahash since the previous night, and he was starting to get worried. He needed instructions, like the ones that she had given him on the day that he had won the car, where to go and what to do.

He smelled sulfur, and relief washed over him as Nahash’s tall figure materialized in the living room, her gnarled horns scraping the ceiling. It was funny how accustomed he was getting to seeing a giant goat-demon appear out of thin air. She made her way towards him, as distractingly naked as she always was, her wide hips rolling and her heavy breasts swaying as she sidled up behind him.

“This will not do,” she muttered, “raise your arms.”

He did as she asked, and her claws wrapped around his neck, Ryan flinching as he felt her warm skin brush his. She removed his tie, and then tugged his shirt over his head, walking off with it to leave him bare-chested.

“What are you doing? Nahash?”

She walked over to the kitchen, her hooves clopping against the hardwood, and she pulled out an ironing board from beside the fridge. She extended the legs and set it on the floor, Ryan watching with growing embarrassment as she retrieved the iron from its place on a shelf near the washing machine. It was as if she knew where everything was, had Orobas told her?

“Come on Nahash,” Ryan mumbled, “I can do that.”

“You don’t know how,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Come, I will show you.”

He walked over to stand beside her reluctantly, watching a scene that might have been comical under different circumstances, the towering she-demon plugging in the iron and filling the water reservoir as she lay his dress shirt out on the board.

“Start with the collar,” she said as she popped the collar open and slowly pressed the iron from one end to the other. “Then the cuffs. Ensure that the fabric is moist, do not linger in one place for too long or you risk burning the garment. Do you see what I’m doing?”

He nodded, and she handed the iron to him.

“Now you try, iron the second cuff. Yes, that’s good, remember to make use of the steam function to ensure that the clothing is moist. Apply more pressure. Good.”

His mother had always been there to iron his clothes for him when he had lived at home, and when he had moved in with Becky, she had always done it for him. Now that he was alone he would have to learn to do these things on his own. He had always thought of himself as accomplished and self-sufficient. He owned an apartment in the city, he had worked a steady job, and he had lived with his girlfriend for years. But now that she was gone, he realized how dependent he still was on other people, how he had somehow avoided learning any of these mundane chores and skills even into his mid-twenties. He couldn’t cook for shit, he didn’t pick up after himself, he couldn’t even iron a fucking shirt without help. Far be it from just finding another job, turning his life around would involve becoming self-reliant too. He had to learn how to take care of himself.

As he ironed his shirt under Nahash’s tutelage, he came to a realization. This was what he had asked for. He had asked Orobas to help him turn his life around, and that was what Nahash was doing, she was acting as his damned life coach.

“You are correct,” Nahash said, not even giving him a chance to ask the question. She must have sensed the realization in him or something. “Orobas has tasked me with teaching you the skills that you lack, at least where necessary for your success.”

She shot him a sympathetic glance as another wave of embarrassment washed over him.

“There is no need to feel ashamed, Ryan. There was no reason for you to learn until today. Besides, your parents share equal blame in leaving you unprepared to live alone. Truth be told, this era of human history confuses me. Your relationships are more tenuous and temporary than ever before. For thousands of years, a man of your age would have had a wife and children by now, and thus would not have needed to tackle these chores as well as performing his duties. Several generations of a family would live together under one roof, but now it seems that you seek to be rid of each other as soon as possible. I cannot claim to understand these new ways.”

He glared at her, a hiss of steam pouring from the iron.

“That’s not really making me feel any better.”

“I meant no offense, I am merely shocked by how rapidly things change in the mortal realm. Things are so static and constant in the place that I reside.”

“And where is that?” Ryan asked, flipping the shirt over to iron the other side.

“You would call it Hell, but that word carries so many negative connotations in your culture. It is not a realm of eternal fire and punishment as you imagine it, but the abode of earthly spirits, the domain of those who have not aspired to lofty ideals or holy works.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad, I’m not exactly a Saint myself.”

“It might be unimaginable to a mortal, it is a realm of raw emotion, possessing no material qualities whatsoever. There are no laws of physics, no up or down, merely oceans of sensation and currents of feeling that ebb and flow. Swirling patterns of pure thought, spirits mingling like shoals of fish. It is at once overwhelming and beautiful.”

“Do you miss it? When you’re here, I mean.”

“No. I have dwelled there for eons. Taking a corporeal form and experiencing only my own emotions, my own thoughts … that is a rare reprieve from the relative chaos of home.”

She was probably oversimplifying it for his benefit, and so he didn’t pry, instead lifting his newly ironed shirt and pulling it over his head. It was warm, and all of the creases had been ironed out of it. He might actually pass for someone who had his shit together now.

He wrapped his tie around his neck and fumbled with it, his face burning as Nahash stepped forward and took charge, deftly tying a perfect Windsor knot as he averted his eyes from the massive bust that was practically hitting him in the face.

“How the hell do you even know how to do that?” he grumbled, “do demons wear ties when then go to work in Hell?”

“My master provides me with the information that I need as it becomes necessary.”

“So you’re like Neo from the Matrix? Tank, I need a program for ironing shirts!”

He chuckled to himself, but she obviously didn’t get the reference, stepping back to look him up and down.

“It will do. You must depart twenty minutes earlier than you had intended, there will be traffic on the road that will delay you.”

“Thanks, Nahash, for … y’know. Everything.”

“I merely perform my duties as they are assigned,” she replied, brushing his sleeve with the back of her hand to dislodge some errant fluff.

“Uh-huh, is there anything else that I need to know? Any instructions that you can give me, like when I went to the mall and you had that big lost of do’s and don’ts?”

“No, my master will be using different skills to aid you today, it is better that you remain ignorant until it becomes necessary for you to know more.”

He nodded, buttoning his cuffs.

“Anything else I need to do before I leave?”

“Yes, you will need your strength if you are to remain alert and focused, and you have not yet eaten today. What were you planning on doing, going hungry?”

“I figured I’d get a bowl of cereal before I headed out.”

“Sit, I will cook for you. And when we have the time, I must teach you how.”

“You’re making me breakfast?” Ryan asked, watching her walk over to the stove. “I can handle some fried eggs you know, I’m not that helpless.”

“My master informs me that in the event that you attempt to cook, you will splash bacon grease on your only dress shirt. Sit at the table and allow me.”

He pulled up a chair and leaned on the table as he watched her, her back turned to him as she worked over the stovetop, breaking eggs and frying bacon with the speed and skill of a professional chef. The smell of it filled the room, Ryan’s mouth beginning to water, and not just because of the alluring scent. Her rear was like a giant peach, that groove in her spine starting between her shoulders and running all the way down the smooth curve of her back, ending between the two dimples above her round cheeks. Her waist was a perfect hourglass, thick thighs supporting her massive body, her long legs tapering into those oddly dainty hooves.

The more he looked at her, the more attractive she became, and he had to shake his head in an attempt to dispel his arousal. She could sense it after all, although he wasn’t sure if she had to concentrate or whether it came easily to her. Perhaps she wouldn’t notice his peeping if she was occupied with another task.

She returned to the table before long, placing a plate of bacon, eggs, and sausages in front of him. Where had she even found the sausages? Perhaps Becky had bought some before she had left and Orobas had told Nahash where to find them.

“Protein and fats. Eat, it will give you strength.”

“If you say so,” he muttered, picking up his cutlery and forking a piece of fried egg into his mouth. He chewed cautiously, then his face lit up, and he hurriedly took another bite.

“This is great,” he mumbled through a mouthful of sausage. “Where the hell did you learn to cook this good?”

“I asked my master to use his powers of prescience to tell me what kind of food you would like, and I used whatever ingredients and seasonings were available.”

“I’ve never eaten eggs this good,” he exclaimed, breaking open one of the fried eggs and watching the yellow yolk ooze around his knife.

“Sunny side up,” she replied, a rare expression of humor.

“I guess Orobas really does know everything.”

“I am glad that you are enjoying the meal.”

“Cooking is a skill you know,” Ryan added as he bit into a bacon strip, noting that it was cooked to perfection. Not too soft, not too crunchy. “This can’t be your first time cooking, there’s no way. Did you guys throw banquets as part of your revelry or something?”

“We did,” she replied as she watched him eat, her expression hard to read. Was she proud? Content? He couldn’t tell. “One thing that hasn’t changed much in five thousand years is cooking. I find that fact somehow … comforting.”

“So what did you guys eat back in the day?” he asked as he cut a slice of sausage, “I suppose you roasted whole pigs over fires? Or was it all magical, did you conjure wine from thin air?”

“Some of it was real, and some of it was illusory. We might have been able to spear a boar in the forest and roast it over the bonfire, but wines and spirits were harder to obtain. We had no vineyards of our own, we could not distill them, and so we stole them or took them as offerings where we could. Turning water into wine was a popular trick, using our powers to influence the senses and emotions so that a goblet of water tasted like the sweetest ambrosia.”

“You can do that?” he asked, pausing his chewing. “Show me!”

“I … should not,” she replied hesitantly, “it is not permitted.”

“Says who? Come on, what harm can it do?”

“I have pledged to only perform the functions that my master has assigned to me,” she replied, looking uncomfortable as she stood beside the table.

“It’s not real alcohol after all,” Ryan insisted. “I want to taste your interpretation of fine wine.”

She considered for a moment, then walked over to the kitchen sink, filling a glass with water. She brought it back to the table and placed it in front of him, and he lifted it to take a sip.

“Yep, that’s tap water alright. So what happens now, do I need to do anything?”

He felt a sudden warmth come over him, as if he had been wrapped in a blanket, penetrating deep into his bones. He glanced at Nahash and her yellow eyes locked with his, the hairs on his arms standing on end. He felt drowsy again, not dissimilar from when she used her abilities to relax him, and he watched her gesture to the glass of water with her clawed finger. He picked it up, feeling as if some fog had fallen over his mind, his thoughts were coming slow and muddled.

“Drink,” she breathed in that low, husky voice. She was standing a few feet away, and yet he could feel her breath on his skin, hear her musical tones as if her lips were an inch from his ear. He raised the glass to his mouth and took a draw.

There was an explosion of flavor on his tongue as if all of the fruits and berries of the world had been concentrated into that one mouthful, it was the most delicious thing that he had ever tasted. It was sweet and tangy like fruit punch, and yet dry like wine, it warmed him in the way that a shot of a strong liqueur would have. It was like drinking a rainbow, he could almost see the colors of the flavors in his mind’s eye, his senses melding and becoming hard to distinguish as the chilled liquid slipped down his throat.

He snapped out of his trance-like state, coming to and staring at the glass of water in his hand, then he started to laugh.

“Well god damn, ambrosia indeed.”

She seemed pleased with herself, her hands planted on her wide hips as she watched him with a wry smile. Every time that he convinced her to do something like this, he saw a little glimpse of her true personality beneath the surface, a glimmer of the person that she had once been and could be again. Orobas had her so restrained, so fearful of engaging in her natural behavior, but Ryan was formulating a plan that might change that.

“You should go soon,” she said, “you have but a quarter hour.”

He nodded, finishing off his breakfast and then heading towards the door to fetch his jacket from the coat rack. He began to walk back towards Nahash as he buttoned up, then stopped himself, his face reddening. Every day before he left for work he would kiss Becky goodbye, and he had been about to perform the same routine with Nahash. It was a reflex, he hadn’t even thought about it. She cocked her head at him, and he tried to mask his embarrassment, waving to her instead.

“Thanks for breakfast Nahash, I’ll see you later. Wish me luck!”

“You don’t need luck,” she replied, “you have magick.”

xxxxx

Ryan pulled up to the office building, turning off his engine and waiting in the driver’s seat for a few moments longer, his fingers gripping the wheel as he steeled himself. This was it, the big interview. If he landed this job, then his financial worries would be over. He had help from his demon cohorts, but it was a good idea to play it safe regardless, to treat this interview as any other and do his best to make a good first impression. His qualifications were all there, what had lost him his last position was his emotional turmoil as Nahash would describe it. As long as he stayed confident, maintained eye contact and gave a firm handshake, then he should be fine.

He stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind him, straightening his jacket as he made his way to the lobby. He pushed on the glass door, then realized that the sign said pull, opening it and walking up to the front desk as he tried not to look as nervous as he was feeling. He was greeted by a secretary, a young woman with her dark hair tied back in a tight bob, wearing a pair of angular spectacles as she looked up from her computer monitor to greet him.

“Can I help you with something, sir?”

“Yes,” Ryan replied, straightening his tie more because he was fidgeting than because it was crooked. “I have an interview with Mister Booker scheduled for ten AM, Ryan Cutter.”

She checked her computer, twirling a biro in her fingers, and then nodded in approval. She gestured to a stairwell on his right with the pen.

“Very good Mister Cutter, you’re right on time. If you’ll wait outside the office on the third floor for a few minutes, I’ll send word that you’ve arrived. I’m sure they’ll be able to see you shortly.”

“Thank you,” Ryan replied, turning towards the stairwell. It was a large building, an IT firm that did everything from providing security solutions for companies to handling on-site hardware installations and repairs. He passed a couple of floors that were dedicated to cubicles, there were hundreds of employees milling about as they performed their duties, the sounds of phones and keyboards almost deafening. He arrived at the executive offices and took a seat in the waiting room, it was empty save for him. It was a very average office environment, chairs lined up against the walls and plastic potted ferns serving as sparse decoration. It was almost indistinguishable from the last place that he had worked, as if these offices were all cut from the same cloth.

He picked up a magazine from a nearby coffee table and leafed through it absentmindedly, waiting to be called. Before very long the door to one of the side rooms opened and a portly man wearing a pinstripe suit walked out to greet him. It was a shade of navy blue, contrasting with Ryan’s black, accompanied by a red tie and a pair of shiny black shoes.

“Mister Cutter,” he said, extending his hand as Ryan rose from his seat. They shook, the man looking him up and down, apparently pleased with his attire. “You’re very punctual, that’s encouraging! Please come into the conference room and take a seat, we’ll begin the interview.”

“Nice to meet you Mister Booker,” he replied. He followed Booker into the room, the door closing behind them, and he was faced with a panel of interviewers sitting at a large wooden table in an expansive office. There were two women and three men besides Booker, who took up a seat to his left and gestured for him to join them. Ryan sat down stiffly, trying not to feel too self-conscious, the interviewers scrutinizing him as he waited for further instructions. Everyone was smartly dressed, they were all upper management, that much was clear. Each person had a laptop on the table in front of them, along with a glass of water, and he noted that there was a cup laid out for him as well. Behind them was a large projector screen that took up most of the wall, but besides that, the conference room was sparsely furnished, spartan and functional.

“So, Mister Cutter,” an older woman in a blue pants suit at the head of the table began. “What makes you want to work for our company?”

Ryan had done this before, and he went through the usual spiel about how excited he was to work with them, trying to appear positive and enthusiastic about the prospect. These interviews were as much a judgment of character and sociability as one’s employment history and qualifications, it was paramount that he remained courteous and confident. Before long the subject of his firing from his previous position came up, and he decided to answer truthfully.

“It says here that you were hired by one of our competitors three years ago, Mister Cutter,” a sharply dressed man to his right added. This one was younger, perhaps in his early thirties. His black hair was cut short, and he was wearing a fitted suit of the same color. “Straight out of college apparently. You were recently let go, why was that?”

Ryan shifted uncomfortably but tried to remain relaxed, resisting the urge to fiddle with his tie.

“There was … quite a disruption to my personal life, a break-up with a long term partner. Needless to say, it impacted my ability to perform my duties. I have of course recovered, and I’m eager to get back on the horse and start working again.”

“Would you say that there’s a risk of the same thing happening again?” Booker asked, peering at Ryan over his laptop monitor.

“No,” he replied adamantly, “I’m certain that there’s no risk of a repeat.”

He was starting to feel like he was losing the crowd. There was some muttering amongst the interviewers, disdainful glances in his direction. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his brow and resisted the urge to wipe it away. If he became visibly anxious at this stage, then he might blow the interview altogether.

A cold came over the room all of a sudden, the temperature dropping noticeably, and one of the women buttoned up her jacket as she scowled in the direction of an air vent that was built into the wall above them.

“Has someone been messing with the thermostat in here?” she wondered aloud, and her colleagues shook their heads. “Maybe someone opened a window on this floor, it’s the middle of damned autumn, what are they thinking? I’m sorry Mister Cutter, where were we?”

Ryan was distracted by shadows playing across the walls as if cast by flickering candles, swirling vapors descending over the room and hanging in the air like a mist. His breath caught in his throat and he looked to the interviewers with wide eyes, but they weren’t reacting to what was happening around them. It was as if they couldn’t see it, couldn’t smell the sulfur in the air, was he the only one who could?

A giant, shadowy figure materialized in the corner of the room, towering over the smaller people as it seemed to form from the smoke. Curled horns brushed the ceiling, yellow eyes glowing ominously as it stepped forward, a monster made of acrid fumes. As it became solid, he realized that it was Nahash, her pale body catching the light as she emerged from the mist. She looked at him, putting a finger to her lips as if to say be quiet.

Ryan swallowed hard and turned his attention back to the interviewers who were frowning at him around the table.

“Is something the matter, Mister Cutter? Are you distracted? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No, please continue, you have my undivided attention.”

He tried to maintain eye contact with the woman who was cross-examining him as Nahash walked around the circumference of the room, brushing aside the decorative ferns as she passed by them. Nobody noticed her, did she exist only in Ryan’s mind? What were Nahash and Orobas playing at? Nothing could have been more distracting. Why hadn’t Nahash warned him that she would be making an appearance at the interview?

Nahash stood directly behind the woman, looming over her, those horizontal pupils fixed on her as she shuffled through papers and adjusted her spectacles. Suddenly her whole demeanor changed. Gone was the frown, her expression turning to one of calm and relaxation as a smile crossed her lips.

“Well, these things happen,” she said jovially. “Especially early in one’s life. I’m sure that your previous employer overreacted, and as a result, they’ve lost a highly qualified employee. I have to say your records are most impressive. You have extensive experience in system administration and programming, I can see you becoming an asset to this company.”

Her colleagues seemed surprised, perhaps she wasn’t usually so upbeat, a few of them glancing between one another in silent confusion. Ryan watched as Nahash waved her clawed hand across the table as if she was casting a spell on them, the cloud of vapors swirling through the air like ink in water.

The same change fell over the rest of them, Nahash must be altering their moods, influencing their emotions to make them happy and positive. The younger of the two women was even starting to gaze at him for longer than he felt was appropriate, batting her eyelashes at him as he looked away uncomfortably.

“He is highly qualified,” Booker added. “Networking, web development, extensive experience with security software. I agree that his last employer probably acted rashly in terminating his contract as soon as they did.”

There was a chorus of affirmations, Ryan letting his eyes wander to Nahash for a moment. She looked like she was concentrating hard on whatever it was that she was doing to them. It was difficult to pretend that she wasn’t there, as enormous and disarming as her demonic form was, and Ryan did his best to stay focused on the interview as the executives moved on to other subjects.

They asked him some more specific technical questions about his certifications and what programming languages he was familiar with, and they seemed pleased by his replies. He was quizzed extensively about his experience and presented with fictional scenarios, then asked to resolve them in the way that he thought best, his rather mundane and predictable answers drawing nods of approval nonetheless. At this point, he could probably have torn off his clothes and danced naked on the table, and they would still have been willing to hire him. Nahash had them practically euphoric.

The interview dragged on, he had been sitting in this uncomfortable chair for nearly an hour now, and Nahash had not so much as glanced in his direction since first appearing. Just how much energy was being expended to keep her here? Usually, she only appeared inside the summoning circle, perhaps it took a larger expenditure of energy to manifest outside of it. Or maybe it only served as a sort of conduit, like a landing pad that directed the spirit to a specific location. He would have to ask her when this was all over and done with.

The next line of questioning concerned teamwork and social skills. He had been through this process before, a kind of personality test to determine that he wasn’t some kind of sociopath who wouldn’t be able to work alongside their employees. This was the part that he usually dreaded, he did not enjoy being cross-examined by a group of strangers, picking his brains and overanalyzing his every twitch in order to determine his suitability to their work environment. He excelled in the technical aspects, but when he was nervous he made mistakes, and the one thing that was essential in these interviews was confidence.

Fortunately, Nahash was running the show today. The executives were jovial and relaxed as the usually probing questions became friendly conversation, as if the room of interviewers had taken an immediate liking to him. It wasn’t just Nahash doing her thing, he realized, remembering one of Orobas’ powers that was listed in the Lesser Key. He had the ability to confer the favor of friends and foes, which must mean that he could influence other people’s opinions of his ward. Instant good first impressions, quite the tool to have at one’s disposal during a job interview.

“Well,” Booker said, rising from his seat and clasping his hands together. “I think I’ve seen enough. I believe that I speak for everyone here when I say that we’d love to have you onboard, and if there are no objections, I’d like you to start work next week.”

The rest of the interviewers expressed their approval and then they stood, Ryan following suit as they approached him and shook his hand one by one. As the younger woman who had been staring across the table at him for the duration of the session let go of him, he felt something in his palm, looking down to see a slip of paper. He shot a quizzical look at the woman, and she mimed a phone with her fingers, mouthing call me silently as she exited the room.

Ryan made for the door, then glanced back at Nahash, the horned demon slowly fading as the yellow glow of her eyes became faint and eventually vanished. The room cleared, the shadows on the walls chased away by the harsh fluorescent lighting, and just like that she was gone.

He glanced at the slip of paper again, examining the digits, then discarded it in a potted plant on his way out.

xxxxx

Ryan flung off his jacket and unfastened his tie, unbuttoning the collar of his dress shirt and breathing a sigh of relief as he stepped into his apartment and collapsed onto the couch. He had gotten the job, his financial worries were over. He no longer had to fret about losing the apartment or going hungry. It felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, like he could breathe easy for the first time since Becky had left him. Orobas had really delivered, this demon thing had been a shot in the dark, but it had paid off in more ways than he could ever have imagined. What might have happened if he had not gotten drunk that night and made up his mind to do something that had seemed so ridiculous at the time?

He felt a chill come over him, a sudden realization spoiling his good mood. Had the contract been fulfilled? Was it over? Would he not see Nahash again?

He didn’t know what he had expected to happen, she had no reason to be here once her task was complete so why would she choose to stay? She couldn’t survive without her master’s energy after all, and she was little more than an errand girl in Orobas’ eyes, the demon might not allow her to come back even if she wanted to.

What about the plan that he had been concocting over the last few days? What about those little glimpses of her true personality that slipped through the cracks of the stoic facade that Orobas imposed on her? He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling, he just knew that he didn’t want her to leave yet, the idea of never seeing her again was intolerable.

His heart leapt as he felt a chill come over the room, indicating that someone or something was arriving, and once again those swirling vapors appeared in the air like lingering cigarette smoke in a dingy bar. Nahash was birthed from the mist, her massive figure slowly taking shape and coming into focus, seen as much in his mind as through his eyes.

“Nahash!” Ryan exclaimed excitedly, a little more emotive than he had intended. “I wasn’t sure that you’d come back.”

“Why would I leave you?” she replied, peering at him with her amber eyes. “My task here is not yet complete.”

“But I got the job, all thanks to you of course,” he said. “That was amazing by the way, I had no idea that you could mess with so many people at once. Is the contract not fulfilled though? I’m safe now, I’m not going to lose my apartment. I have a steady job, and I don’t have to worry about money anymore.”

“That was but one facet of your contract with Orobas,” she replied. “You stipulated that you wanted him to make you happy again, and to turn your life around. These are vague requests Ryan, any other demon might have taken advantage of you. Fortunately, Orobas is loyal to his charges and does not deceive them.”

“So … how do you measure if I’m happy or not?” he asked as he slumped over the headrest of the couch, watching the tall Seirim as she gestured to herself with her clawed hands.

“Do you forget? I have the ability to sense your emotions, I am perfectly capable of determining your level of happiness and contentment. I will judge when the contract has been fulfilled based on your overall emotional state.”

He beamed at her, and she seemed confused by his response. She cocked her head, the gesture exaggerated by those massive horns that sprouted from her feathery wool like a gnarled crown.

“Well, I’m glad that we get to spend a little more time together,” he added.

She hesitated before replying, as if she had wanted to say something else but had stopped herself.

“I have come to enjoy your company too, Ryan.”

It was enough, coming from her.

“So what’s next? What more is there to do?”

She sauntered around the couch, her gait never ceasing to draw his eye. She had the legs of a goat standing upright, and the way that she walked was so strange and unearthly. Her thighs were very human, shapely and alluring even, her skin pale and smooth. The wool, or maybe it was fur, started near her knees and covered her lower legs in a shaggy forest. Her limbs were digitigrade, her cloven hooves protruding from beneath the white hair, split clean down the middle like those of a deer or a sheep. She wore no clothes, not even a loincloth for modesty. She was in a seemingly perpetual state of nudity that caused her no embarrassment. The few times that he had dared to take a peek between her thighs they had been thick enough to obscure her more intimate anatomy, which in some ways was even more tantalizing than the alternative. Despite her size and her mismatch of human and animal features, she remained graceful, planting herself beside him on the cushions.

“You must begin courting again, Ryan. I sense the loneliness in you. It lingers beneath the surface, like a crocodile lying in wait for its prey, ready to leap out and strike whenever the opportunity presents itself. Until you resolve this problem you will not be happy, it will hang over you like a shadow and torment you whenever your mind is idle.”

“You can tell all that just from reading my emotional state?” Ryan asked, his face reddening a little. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with having her read his mood like a book, but it was apparently necessary, and he wondered what he must look like to her. Was it like a heat-map of his body as if seen through an infrared camera, with the colors changing and shifting like a mood ring? Red for angry, blue for sad, green for jealous maybe? Perhaps it was more intuitive than that, empathic, with her being able to feel a little of what he felt as if she was inhaling second-hand smoke? He doubted that she would be able to explain it to him, after all, he lacked the sense entirely. It would be like trying to describe colors to a blind man.

“The woman at the interview today, she propositioned you. Was she not to your liking? She was within an acceptable age range, and she was fertile.”

His cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, and he laughed nervously, waving his hand dismissively as Nahash looked on.

“I mean … yeah she looked fine, but I had never even met her before. I’m not that kind of guy, Nahash, I want a meaningful relationship. I want to be with someone that I share a connection with, you know? Someone I’ve gotten to know as a friend before we jump into something serious.”

“I sense your sexual frustration, you are-”

He waved his hands again to cut her off, his face now burning in earnest as she scrutinized him.

“It’s not about that, trust me. I have it under control.”

“You are embarrassed, I meant no offense. I was merely relaying to you what I sensed.”

“Don’t worry about it, just … let’s keep your future sensing above the belt, okay?”

“Very well, then what scenario do you envision wherein your needs are fulfilled?”

“I … don’t know, that’s kind of a hard question to answer. Sometimes we don’t know what we want until it falls into our lap. I thought that I was happy with Becky, that she was my type, but more and more I’m starting to realize that our relationship wasn’t that great to begin with.” He chuckled to himself, and Nahash gave him a quizzical look. “Hell, I’ve talked more with you in the last week than I did with Becky in the last month. We really didn’t have very much in common after all.”

“I have enjoyed that aspect of our interaction,” she replied, “it is rare that I have an opportunity to talk with someone at length. Where I reside, there is no conversation as you know it, just the ever-shifting tides of raw thought and emotion.”

“That sounds like it could get overwhelming pretty fast,” Ryan added, and she nodded her shaggy head.

“It can indeed. My visits to the mortal realm are so infrequent now, I sometimes find myself pining for it.”

She looked off into the distance, her expression forlorn, and it broke Ryan’s heart to see her that way. She was a prisoner, a slave by any metric, forced to leech energy from more powerful demons if she wanted to survive. She wasn’t being held against her will exactly, but what choice did she have, live in servitude or die? He might have a way to change that, however.

“So tell me,” he began, changing the subject. “How were you able to appear in the conference room today? I was under the impression that demons could only manifest inside summoning circles.”

She took a moment to formulate her reply, no doubt trying to think up an explanation that would make sense to a layman.

“A circle is a conduit. It opens the door to spirits, draws them in so to speak. My master can send me outside of a summoning circle, but the energy required is exponentially higher. The runes and sigils concentrate magickal energy and bind it within the circle, making manifesting there a far easier and more attractive prospect. These magickal hotspots can form naturally too, if a place earns a reputation as being haunted, that is usually the reason. The power of a demon is finite and will not be expended unless absolutely necessary, being able to replenish some of that energy and offset the cost of manifesting is the only way to draw a demon out these days. They once walked the earth with energy to spare, the same as I’m doing right now, but as their influence and power faded they were forced to retreat into the immaterium.”

“The immaterium?” Ryan asked, his curiosity peaked.

“A colloquial term for realms other than this one. They are numerous, and their properties vary, but one thing that most have in common is that they are not grounded in a physical reality. They are realms of thought and emotion, devoid of matter, and are thus make ideal homes for demons and spirits who seek to minimize their energy expenditure.”

“So your kind have a natural ability to shift between them?”

“As do you,” she replied, “but the souls of mortals are bound to their physical form until it expires. Some have learned the skill, they call it astral projection, or an out of body experience. Through practice or trauma their spirit leaves their body, and while it must return if that body is to survive, the spirit can exist for short periods of time in its natural and unbridled state.”

“That stuff is all real, then?” Ryan mused. “Astral projection, remote viewing, all that nonsense? There were some classified documents released as part of the freedom of information act not long ago that detailed government experiments with such abilities, but I don’t think that anyone really believed it. It’s like … cognitive dissonance. Why would organizations like the FBI pump funding into such projects if they didn’t show promise, and yet conventional wisdom insists that it can’t be genuine. I guess the proof is staring me right in the face,” he said as he looked up at Nahash, “but it still seems unbelievable.”

“The mortal realm is one of constant, unending distraction,” she continued. “To possess senses is to have them be perpetually stimulated. Sight, smell, touch, and taste. During every second of every day, you’re processing sensory information that does nothing but distract from your true spiritual self. It is akin trying to solve a math problem during intercourse, it is impossible to concentrate on anything besides the sensations.”

“That’s a rather lewd metaphor, but I think I get the picture. If you don’t possess a body, then you’re just alone with your thoughts and emotions, like a brain in a vat.”

“Some cannot abide it. Others, such as we Seirim, revel in the variety and intensity of those sensations.” She looked wistful again, as if remembering bygone days. “The exquisite tastes of food and wine, biting into a fruit and feeling its juices burst forth into your mouth, the cool breeze on your skin and the warmth of a fire. These are things that I miss dearly.”

“So how do you astral project?” Ryan asked. “Is it something that I could learn to do?”

“It takes great focus and years of practice. Meditation must be employed in order to block out worldly distractions, allowing the practitioner to concentrate on his spiritual being.”

“Yeah, doesn’t sound like something that I’d be suited to,” he laughed. “You once told me that it wasn’t your job to reveal the secrets of the universe to me, what changed your mind?”

“As I said, I find our conversations … stimulating. Besides, your curiosity is endearing.”

She smiled down at him, and he felt butterflies in his stomach. A compliment from her was so rare. She could appear outside of the circle then, provided that she had enough energy to work with, that was useful to know.

“Say, Nahash. Just between you and me, if you could live independently of Orobas again, would you want to? Let’s say that you had plenty of energy of your own, and worshipers, and that you could pop in and out of this realm at will. Would that make you happy?”

“Of course,” she replied, surprising Ryan with her candor. She usually spoke about these subjects as if Orobas was peering over her shoulder and listening in on the conversation, which might not be too far fetched based on what he knew about the demon’s abilities.

“It is impossible, of course, and thus to say that I yearn for it is no insult against my master. It is only by his grace that I continue to exist, and I will always be grateful to him for saving me from damnation.”

“What would happen if a demon ran out of energy?” Ryan asked.

“They would cease to be,” she replied, her tone dour. “Death as you know it is not the end, but the destruction of a spirit is truly final. Without a source of energy, they cannot exist. Engaging in demon worship, falling under the influence of a demon, even thinking about a demon or viewing its sigil feeds into its power and keeps it from fading away.”

“Well, in that case, consider me as grateful towards Orobas as you are. I’m glad to have met you, Nahash.”

“As I am glad to have met you,” she replied. “I have not had the opportunity to tread upon solid ground for eons, and as much as I am bound by my duties, I have enjoyed this brief respite.”

She stood abruptly, her body starting to fade, as if dissolving into a cloud of black smoke.

“I am being recalled by Orobas. I will return tonight, whenever you decide to sleep.”

“I always look forward to it,” Ryan announced, and he could have sworn that he saw a smile on her face as she vanished from his reality.

THE END OF CHAPTER FIVE