“Thomas Jacob, get down here this instant!” Elsie cried up the stairs.
She had just come from the kitchen, which she spent all day cleaning, to find muddy hand and footprints all over it.
Tommy, her eight-year-old son with mousy brown hair and freckles ran down the stairs.
“Hi, Mom!” He said before seeing the scowl on her face, “what?”
“You forgot to take your dirty shoes off before you entered the house,” she scolded, “and you put dirty hand prints all over the counter and refrigerator!”
“Sorry mom,” Tommy pouted.
Elsie looked at her son and sighed, “It’s ok. Just remember to take your shoes off when you come in from outside for now on.” She affectionately rubbed some dirt off his cheek. “Now run upstairs and clean yourself up. Your father is bringing company over for dinner.”
As he ran back upstairs, Elsie returned to the once again filthy kitchen. The smell of the night’s dinner, pork chops and scalloped potatoes, filled the room, and a pot of green peas puttered away on the stove as the water boiled. Harold was going to be here soon with the Andersons, and Elsie couldn’t let them see the house in such disarray. Tabitha Anderson was one of Elsie’s closest friends. But she was also the neighborhood gossip, and she would love nothing more than to tell everyone who would listen about how poorly Elsie kept the house and how wild Tommy was.
Elsie looked at the clock on the wall. 6:30. She didn’t have enough time to do it herself; she was going to need some help. Going to the cabinet housing all of her cookbooks, Elsie pulled away the false back and retrieved an old, jade green book as well as something wrapped in black cloth. The cover of the book was plain, with no writing on it at all, and the pages were worn and yellowed from regular use.
Elsie set both items on the table and opened the book. On the first page was the title: The Homemaker’s Guide to Summoning Demons. She flipped to the Table of Contents, skimmed until she found the entry “Demons for Quick Cleanups,” and turned to the associated page. She flipped through the pages of that section, reading the demons’ names and their abilities, and found the perfect one- a powerful demon known as Barzanar.
Most people think summoning demons is a form of witchcraft, but that is false. Summoning is an ancient art form, certainly, and to the untrained eye, could be mistaken for witchcraft, but while witchcraft is messy and it’s procedures are open to interpretation, summoning takes focus, a firm resolution, and a strict adherence to the rules. One of those rules is to not summon a demon after sunset. A demon cannot survive in direct sunlight without possessing a host body. So summoning a demon after sunset could result in unleashing it on the neighborhood.
Elsie looked out the window. The evening sky was beginning to change to gold. If she was going summon Barzanar, she was going to have to be quick.
She unfolded the cloth to reveal a dagger with a blade made from black quartz and a piece of white chalk. She spread the circular cloth out on a clean spot on the floor. Then, with the chalk, she drew the summoning symbol as directed: six crosses, heads pointing inwards to a pentagram. Elsie scraped some of the mud off the floor and plopped it into the center of the pentagram. She stood up, held the dagger behind her back, and stated the summoning words “Et ego invocabo Barzanar.”
It started slowly at first with just the scent of burnt flesh. Then, the dollop of mud began to smolder into ash. The ash pile grew until it loomed over Elsie, and then, the ash fell away, revealing the grotesque form of the demon before her.
Barzanar towered over her, having to crouch to avoid hitting the ceiling. Its skin was black and charred, except for its fingers, which were as long as it’s forearms, where all the flesh had burnt away exposing the white bones beneath. Its face was gaunt and hollow looking, and what little hair it had atop its head was wispy and grey. Its mouth hung open, and was filled with rows of yellowed teeth, pointed like sabers. But the most striking think about the creature before her was its eyes. They were a brilliant cobalt blue that glittered at Elsie, dazzling her and daring her to look away.
“Hello,” Elsie greeted the monster, putting the dagger in her apron pocket, “Welcome to my home.”
With a booming voice that rumbled deep like a landslide, Barzanar said, “You? A pathetic, puny, little, human woman, dare to summon me?!”
Elsie smiled and replied politely, “I certainly did. Thank you for coming. It is greatly appreciated.”
This is another important rule: always be welcoming and friendly to the demon you summoned. Demons are vain creatures by nature, and since they don’t receive many compliments in Hell, a little hospitality goes a long way. Besides that, just because you are face to face with a member of the Legion of the Damned, it doesn’t mean you should forget your manners.
Barzanar towered over Elsie, a single strand of foul-smelling drool stretched down onto the shoulder of her pale blue, floral pattern dress. Elsie remained firm, staring into the blue eyes of the beast.
You must have a strong resolution to control a summoned demon. The summoner has the control of the interaction, and the demon only has as much control as the summoner gives them. The demons know this and will try to intimidate or manipulate the summoner into giving them more power. A strong-willed summoner can protect themselves from such tactics.
“I would like you to clean the dirt off my kitchen floor, counter, and refrigerator, if that wouldn’t be too much trouble, please,” Elsie asked.
“I demand the flesh and blood of a virgin child as payment,” the demon boomed.
“Oh I’m sorry,” Elsie replied, “But I don’t have any more of that here. I can give you a turkey sandwich on rye and some fresh brewed iced tea instead.”
The demon loomed over her, and Elsie could feel its hot smelly breath on her face.
In its low, rumbling voice, Barzanar said, “Actually, that sounds lovely.”
The metal chair creaked under the immense weight of the demon as it used its finger bones to pick at its sandwich hungrily. Elsie sat across from him at the kitchen table and watched it eat. Periodically, it would use both of its meat and mustard covered hands to fumble the glass up to its mouth. Some tea dribbled out of the sides of its mouth and onto the table.
The demon burped loudly, popped the last piece of the first half of its sandwich into his mouth, and then asked, “So, you look awfully pretty today, with your hair all done and wearing those pearls. You having company over tonight?”
Elsie smiled but didn’t respond, remembering to not engage. Besides intimidation, this was common manipulation tactic for demons. Friendly chit-chat is just a way to learn a summoner’s weaknesses. Elsie knew what was coming next.
Then, as Elsie predicted, Barzanar spat, “Fine, don’t talk to me, you fat, ugly cunt.”
Without letting her pleasant smile falter, Elsie stood up and reached for the plate.
“Hey!” Barzanar snarled, “That’s mine! You gave it to me!”
“That was before you insulted me with such vulgarities, and after I invited you into my kitchen,” Elsie’s tone remained polite but firm as she stared directly into the demons eyes.
Through gritted teeth, Barzanar said, “Take that plate, and I’ll rip your spine out of your body with my teeth.”
With that, Elsie pulled the quartz blade dagger out of her apron pocket, pointed at the demon’s heart, and stated, “Barzanar, I cast thee-“
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Cried the demon, whose demeanor had become that of a scared puppy.
The black onyx dagger is an essential tool of the homemaking summoner- more important than the book itself. It instantly returns the demon to Hell, and marks them so that they can never return to Earth’s surface. No one is sure of the specifics of how a Demon is barred from returning, but no demon that has been stabbed by it could ever be summoned again. It’s best used to threaten the demons, as they fear returning to Hell permanently.
“Delightful,” Elsie said as she pocketed the dagger once again and pushed the plate back to the demon, “Now please hurry up. I am having company over, and I would like to not have one of Satan’s minions in my kitchen when they arrive.”
Barzanar scarfed down the other half of his sandwich and poured the rest of his tea into his gaping maw before Elsie had a chance to take them away again. He then climbed up from the chair. He stood over her again, but now in a less intimidating way.
He flicked his wrists, and buckets of soapy water appeared around him, hovering inches off the ground. Each one took off in a different direction. When they reached their destinations, two sponges popped out of each bucket and scrubbed the area around it. Within a minute or so, the kitchen was sparkling clean once again and the buckets and sponges disappeared in wisps of smoke. Steam rose of every surface until everything was dry again.
“Wow,” Elsie said as she looked at the demons work, “The Book said you were good, but it really didn’t do you justice, now did it?”
The creature bowed slightly and said, “I thank you for the offering of the turkey sandwich on rye and iced tea. Our agreement is fulfilled.”
Barzanar exploded into ash, which settled into nothingness, and the chalk markings on the circular cloth were erased. Even the demon’s scent was gone from the air, replaced with the smell of the meal Elsie had prepared. Elsie picked the cloth up from the floor, rolled the dagger back up in it, and then stashed them and the book back into their secret hiding spot.
Just as she took off her apron and sat down, hoping to relax for a moment, voices at the front door alerted her that her husband and the Andersons had arrived. Elsie hurried to the door to greet her guests.
***
The dinner was a success. Tabitha couldn’t stop complementing Elsie on the food, and everyone marveled at the pineapple upside down cake she brought out for dessert. Once the Andersons had been seen off, the dishes had been washed, and Tommy had been put to bed, Elsie and her husband, Harold, took their usual seats in the den to unwind.
“Tommy told me that you yelled at him earlier,” Harold said without looking up from his book.
“I did,” Elsie replied, setting down hers, “He tracked mud through the kitchen again not long before you got home.”
“How did you get the kitchen clean again so fast,” he said, finally looking up from his book.
“Oh, you know, I am just good at what I do,” Elsie lied.
And that is the most important rule: A homemaker is never, under any circumstances, to let her husband know that they summon demons to help with the housework.
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Ramblings of a Madman 
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