03. Revealing the identity

"How did you get in here?! Who are you?!"

The man seems confused by the human's apparent fear. After all, she summoned it, didn't she? Why was she acting that way?

He steps out of the tiny closet space, freeing his muscles from that wooden confinement. Moving his arms and back to stretch, the stranger replies:

"I have unlimited access to anything that concerns you. And... Well, you know who I am, so I didn't understand the purpose of your question."

Shandra takes great care that her indignation does not draw her mother's attention as she inquires:

"What?!"

He just laughs.

"I like the role you are playing. It's fun. But you should be more cautious about your idea of recreation. For a second, I really thought you had no idea who I am."

The young woman is so wide-eyed and her breathing so loud that he laughs. Then the unknown man takes a good look at the posters and occult objects in the room, approaching the crystal ball.

"Interesting. Do you also have the gift of clairvoyance?"

Contemplating the girl's silence, he turns to understand why she has not responded. Shandra quickly goes to her pillow and pulls a dagger from under it, growling menacingly.

"Listen here, man!" She tries to speak loudly, but not too loudly, so as not to attract her mother's attention. "If you don't leave right now, I'm going to chop you up. So I think you better get the hell out right now!"

The man just raises an eyebrow, totally disinterested.

"Don't tell me I didn't warn you!"

Shandra had never hurt another human being before, although she contemplated various ways to torture Sasha when it took away her peace in unimaginable ways. She was not a violent girl, although the spell books might indicate otherwise.

Well, now it was her life that was at stake. If she did nothing to stop the invader, who could she count on to protect herself?

She was alone in the world once again.

Running towards the man's large muscular chest, she kept her hand steady as she picked the place that seemed most vulnerable and stuck the blade straight and sharp.

Only to be stopped soon after.

His hand was extremely strong and powerful. He held the tip of the dagger like a bath sponge. Shandra gasps.

"Why are you doing this?"

His voice is not irritated, angry or furious. Just curious and disappointed.

"Why did you want to attack me?" he insists, removing the blade from her hand and kneading it into his own fist. Crumbs; mere fragments and useless bits fall to the ground - all that is left of Shandra's only weapon.

She steps back, startled, and sits down on the bed.

The man steps forward.

"You don't know who I am, really?"

The fear in her eyes is enough for him to realize that yes, she is not faking it.

"Oh, great."

Sighing dramatically, deciding not to get too close so as not to make the little witch despair and try something stupid yet again, the enigmatic figure wearing human skin sits down on the ground, right on top of what's left of the dagger. Tiny embers appear around him like an aura of fire.

Shandra remains motionless, unable to take in all that madness.

"Allow me to introduce myself, then, and apologize for such unnecessary confusion."

His voice is calm and placid, like that of a company boss or a history professor before explaining the subject. Piggling before he begins, he says:

"I have many names. None of them are my real ones, for obvious security reasons. However, for a few ages now I've liked to be called Sam."

The girl remains in the same place, listening to the words of the stranger who calls himself Sam.

"Although I appeared to you only today, I have been watching you for some time. Your invocation a few months ago worked out well, little witch. My congratulations."

"... What?" she whispers, barely believing her own eyes and ears. That could only be a delusion, perhaps a dream.

"Why, are you going to say you don't remember now? A few moons ago, in this very room, you performed an invocation ritual. Do you remember?"

Most of the things Shandra did were out of pure experiment and curiosity. She didn't even really believe in the magic of the spells and notes she kept in her secret notebook. It was all a hobby, more than anything.

Now this stranger was saying that one of those pranks had worked?

She might start laughing with nervousness, if it weren't for Sam's serious tone as he related in detail:

"I picked up a pure energy of anger, contempt, pain and anguish when you cut your own finger and dripped the blood on the magic circle. You called out one of my names, wishing that I would take revenge on your enemies and bring you the strength you needed to overcome your own adversities."

The girl says nothing. He continues:

"Although I still don't know what happened that particular night, I can get an idea of what you are up against. So you mixed the residue of your blood with the magic powder used in the ritual and kept it in your locket."

By reflex, Shandra touches the bronze-colored pendant that he would not take off his neck at all, not even to take a bath.

Yes, he was absolutely right. The invocation ritual, however, was more of a desperate way to deal with the oppressive reality more than anything.

Sam scratches his head as he says:

"I had a hard time maintaining a physical form to communicate with you. There was something blocking me, and no matter how hard I tried, I had no success whatsoever in getting you to see or hear me. But tonight you wished for me to appear, you asked with all your might. And here I am."

Shandra opens her mouth once to speak, then gives up. This was extraordinary, fantastic, and absolutely dangerous.

But if he really was the creature she had summoned months ago...

"So you are a..."

Horns appear on his head, black and gold. A pair of wings also grow on his back, with black feathers like those of a raven. His fire-colored eyes glow like two fireplaces, a smile is drawn on his cynical face.

"A demon. Yes."