Excerpt: Timothy: Lord of Hell

There are a few very definite ways to know that you are not going to have a good day from the instant you’ve woken up.

First off, being woken up before you’re truly prepared to get up. Having the day starting far earlier than you really think it has any real right to is never a nice thing to experience regardless of how long or short the subsequent day will be. Second, waking up in an unfamiliar location. Now, I’m not just talking about a place that is unfamiliar at first glance, but once your brain has defogged somewhat you remember where it is and exactly why you’re there. I’m talking about somewhere completely unrecognisable that has no business in being the place you woke up to and you really couldn’t think how you might have got there. Especially when you’re still in your nightclothes and thus have no access to anything like house keys or money. Third is similar to the second and involves waking up in something that is most certainly not your bed. Or even a bed at all. Fourth is waking up with the other three having already occurred to find all lights in the room turned entirely on to you, weird and not all that pleasant smells drifting through the air, with the knowledge that there are a great many other people in the room and you’re fairly sure you don’t know them.

I groaned and was highly tempted to just close my eyes and try to get back to sleep, hoping it was all just a bad dream when I laid eyes on the curved line of salt a few feet away from me. I could also just about make out in the faint light that the wood on the outside of this salt circle was a fair bit lighter than the floor I was sitting on. I’d never actually gone back to check on what happened with the pavement after summoning Hahmen, but I supposed there would be a rather obvious dark circle against the pavement. Not that anyone would automatically think of demonic summoning when they found it, probably just assumed it was a much more mundane type of vandalism. But from the looks of things here, it seems that demonic summoning stains. Looking out past the circle, just before it went off into the darkness, I could just make out an upside down cross burnt into the floor.

“I hope,” I started, once again ignoring the not very silent silence that scurried around the room when I started speaking. “That you know how to fix this and send me back.”

“Silence foul fiend!" That was the same voice that had been speaking when I first got here, the one that had obviously been doing the ritual. I hoped he had been using his own blood and that it had really, really hurt. But what was most problematic was that the words were rather slurred, indicating at least some of the boozy smell in the room had been caused by stuff he had been consuming, and the voice speaking them sounded distinctly American. “Thou hast been summoned by dint of blackest arcana to hear my will and do my bidding!”

“You what? I’m sorry mate, but I have absolutely no intention of doing anyone’s bidding. And I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be capable of performing whatever magic tricks you have planned to show off for your little friends.”

“Silence fiend!” Much to my irritation and building horror, my mouth snapped shut instantly at this command. I came very close to badly biting my tongue and my teeth ached slightly at the force with which they had collided. That was a bit uncalled for. I’m fairly sure I was never that rude to Hahmen. But it certainly explained why he had been so pissy and why there are so many rigid rules for demonic summoning to try and keep the demonic entity in check. I’d only received the one command that I couldn’t not obey and I was already getting irritated over it. “Good. Right then. You shall hear my will and do my bidding.” There was a slightly uncomfortable silence as I glared at him (or at least glared at the direction his voice was coming from) from the floor. “You, erm…you may speak again now.”

“Oh, lucky me."