The Red Eyed Favor

The sodden paper sack holding her pathetic excuse for groceries almost fell from her slackening grip. Almost. She had eggs in there. Sure, she also had a bag of brown rice underneath the eggs, but she was so sick of rice. Beans had more protein, but rice was cheaper.

She stared dumbly at the little slip of paper tacked to her door.

It felt extra insulting that there was a smiley face on the thumbtack. She didn’t have to read what was on the paper; she’d been expecting it for weeks now. All eviction notices looked alike in a roundabout way. All one had to see was the word ‘EVICTION’ to get the gist.

Katie continued blinking owlishly with water dripping off her clothes, and the bag becoming less stable. Until she heard the bottom of the bag start to rip. Shaken from her stupor, she jammed her key into the lock. The telltale scent of mildew and mothballs smacked her as she walked in. She had enough forethought to snatch the pink letter from the too-happy thumbtack as she passed.

The bag lost its gallant fight with gravity before she made it to the ancient Formica countertop. The eggs hit the peeling linoleum with a sickening splat along with the few bell peppers that she’d splurged for.

She stared down at a bell pepper that rolled to a stop on the side of one of her scuffed pumps. Was her eye twitching? She couldn’t tell…

A heavy sigh sounding suspiciously like a sob escaped her as she went to her knees. Little bits of dirt and debris she was never able to sweep poked into her skin. Those were definitely tears burning her eyes. Snatching at the cheap polyester apron all Doug’s Diner waitresses wore, she swiped angrily at the wetness on her cheeks, leaving a slight residue that was most likely mustard.

Sniffling, and wiping her nose with the back of her hand, Katie used the other to pick up what was salvageable of her food for the week. If she hadn’t listened to her cheating snake of an ex, she wouldn’t be in such a bind. He’d found someone with a lower BMI, and a higher credit score.

At least on the strict grocery budget she was on now, she may lose a few pounds…

She managed to grab the wayward produce, but none of the eggs could be salvaged.

Bits of shell and yolk were everywhere.

Her fingers squished against the softness of a dead mouse as she went to scrape up some bits of shell that had managed to splatter into the crevice between the stove and cabinet. Scrunching her face in disgust Katie jerked back, fingers hitting the handle of the cabinet door as she did. She yelped a curse as pain ignited through her hand at the impact. Lord help her, the self pity flared into seething rage.

Her grandma had always said she had the temper to tame wasps; no matter how hard she tried remaining calm. She clutched her injured hand that was now bleeding, as her leg kicked forward in a perfect strike that drove her six inch heel into the cheap particle wood of the cabinet door. Her furious growl filled the small kitchen.

Panting hard, she pulled her foot loose from the shoe now stuck in the cupboard door. The physical damage making the haze of fury leave her instantly. Her head fell back against the fridge and her eyes closed.

Great, there goes the deposit too.

The quiet was oppressive except for the hum of the fridge behind her.

She should get up. Move the stove, so she could dispose of the mouse. Katie was mildly surprised it wasn't already stinking...or maybe she should finish picking up the broken eggs. Or maybe she should tend her finger since there was an easy flow of blood now trailing down her hand.

A sound of something falling had her gaze jerking back to the door with her shitty pump sticking out of it. It seemed to be mocking her. Grimacing, she reached to open the cabinet using said shoe rather than the handle. She didn’t keep anything in this cupboard. It was too low and narrow to store even a single pan. What could have fallen?

She saw nothing, but then why would she?

“Ugh” she crawled closer to stick her arm further back where it was too dark to see.

“Please don’t be another dead mouse...” she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. She screeched when she touched something solid; yanking her arm out again before her brain reasoned that it wasn’t another corpse. No, it felt like...paper? Her fingers felt around again to find its edges to pull it forward.

The book must have been tucked away in the top struts of the cabinet, and fallen from its hiding place when she’d kicked the door in. Its black leather binding was covered with dust and grime. What was a little black book doing in the back of a cupboard in a crappy apartment in the slums of New Orleans?

She could barely make out the title embossed into the cracked leather, but it was too weathered. The blood now dribbling over her palm started to soak into the sides of the pages as she inspected it. Squinting, trying to make out the shallow stamping. Just when she thought she could decipher the script, a light blazed from the lettering; blinding her.

Katie dropped the book as her eyes slammed shut, but it was as bright as a lightning bolt and punched right through her eyelids.

Then the flash was gone, leaving spots in her vision. She blinked rapidly.

Legs clad in expensive slacks dangled a few inches from the floor. Her gaze rose to see a very tall, thin man sitting atop the counter. A scream leapt from her throat, and she scrambled away.

The man’s dazed expression morphed into pain as he clapped his hands over his ears at her shrieking; the black book now smeared with blood clutched in one hand against his temple. A guttural unknown language filled the room as he started yelling at her; presumably to tell her to shut up.

“What are you saying?!” Katie yelled back. “I don’t understand what you're saying! Stop yelling at me! What are you doing in my kitchen?” she scooted out of said kitchen along the wall to further the gap.

His quick, confusing words seemed to morph languages mid-sentence until he bellowed, “For the love of Contract, woman, you’re making my ears bleed!”

Her jaw slackened.

Affirming that she wouldn’t be puncturing his sensitive ears anymore, he sighed in palpable relief, cricked his neck, and straightened his cuffs. He didn’t so much as jump off the counter as place his feet on the floor, and then he was standing. Jesus, his head was almost brushing the ceiling.

He flicked an unseen speck of dust on his shoulder. “Much better. Now,” he rubbed his hands together while his gaze shifted around; suspiciously as if searching for an exit. “I’d like to thank you for releasing me, and I don’t like mucking about. Lots of things to do, places to be-what language am I speaking? It’s absolutely horrid.” he frowned down at her like it was her fault.

Katie just stared back for several moments before asking, “Who are you?”

His lips thinned. “What witch frees a demon from a grimoire, and doesn’t know who she's releasing? Honestly, your Crones should have taught you better.”

“I...I’m not a witch-wait, did you say demon?” she shrank back into the corner she’d reached.

His droll stare with his red, yes red, eyes told her she wasn’t making a good first impression. “Whatever you say, witch. Keep your abilities a secret for your safety, then. It’s no matter to me. Now, what reward do you desire? We must settle the bargain.” he sniffed at the blood starting to clot on the book, frowning. “Unfortunately, by the pitiable size my prison has become, I fear it's a testament to how weakened I am. I won’t be able to do much, if this book’s size is any indication on my power level...”

“What?”

He made a long suffering sigh as he pulled his gaze away from the book to glance at her, “This book used to be a lot bigger than this. It needed to be to contain my power. The smaller it is, the less size required to hold its occupant. Now, I’m extremely busy, so tell me quickly what you desire. Usually, I’d take your soul as the typical Contract dictates, but freeing me is worth three of those, in my book-” he closed his eyes. “Absolutely no pun intended. Now, spill it, mortal. What do you want? Power? Fame? Wealth? Love? I’ve got shit to do, and I’m five hundred years behind schedule.”

She just stared. She didn’t want to ask, but the question bubbled up anyway. “Didn’t you just say that you didn’t have much power?”

He had the grace to look sheepish. “Yes, I did. Do you want me to owe you once I’m fully restored?”

“No. I...don’t think I want to see you again. Like ever.”

He shrugged. “Fair. Then you get what I’m able to give now. What do you want?”

“Money.”

The answer bubbled unbidden from her soul. She wasn’t stupid. This had risks, but she had to get out of this hellhole. Who was she to look a gift demon in the mouth? She didn’t want to know if he had a forked tongue or not.

His eyes glowed bright before closing in concentration, a small crease wrinkling his unusually smooth forehead.

“Done. I must confess I feel slightly guilty that it’s not much, but you seem like a smart witch, and can do something with it.”

Katie didn’t think it possible for a demon to feel guilt.

Said demon shrugged and headed for the door.

“Wait!” she scrambled up, not knowing what possessed her to call after him. She must be the dumbest person ever, but curiosity was killing her-she had so many questions. Yet the only one she was able to ask was, “What’s your name?”

He gave her wicked smile over his shoulder, his hand gripping the doorknob. “Little witch, don’t you know that names are powerful? Why in Hell would I give you my name when the last witch used it to trap me in her grimoire?”

He walked out the door.

She stood still for a while before leaping across the room where she’d left her purse.

No cash or check.

She started ripping through the apartment where she kept little stashes of change and small bills around; a trick she’d learned when her ex started taking more of her money. There wasn’t any more money than what she’d already had in those hiding places…

She clawed back into her purse for her phone to check her bank balance…

And stared, eyes bugging, at the number on the screen.

$20,032.

Twenty thousand more than what she’d had before.

She didn’t know she was sobbing until a familiar male voice echoed in her head.

If you're that upset, I can give you more once I’m able. It’s the least I can do. Don’t cry, little witch. I oddly prefer you not crying, strangely. The confused expression was far more entertaining.

A surprised laugh escaped her as she wiped her tears and stood. She only had a few valuables and essentials to pack.

She was humming...and smiling.

Katie was so busy getting her stuff into her car that she didn’t notice the bloodied book tucked in the side pocket of her purse. Nor the sleek, black furred, red eyed mouse that had made itself comfortable on top of the pile of blankets in the backseat. It watched her intently as she got into the driver’s seat.

She was still humming as she drove away.