Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-36393004-20180808214225/@comment-36393004-20180809204706

Continued:

A cotton sack was placed over Peter’s head and he could feel the pressure of something metal, presumably a pistol, pressed into his side.

It felt like hours before the vehicle stopped and the men removed Peter from the back seat. A hand on each arm directed him where to go. A door metal door creaked open and all of them entered. After a few minutes of walking they began to descend a set of stairs. Peter could see the light from lamps above him in ten foot increments but nothing else. Before long he was pushed through another door and forced to sit down upon a chair. The bag was finally removed and he found himself sitting at a large rectangular wooden table. He had seen enough police shows to know that this was some sort of interrogation room. It was complete with a camera and two-way mirrors. The man that had escorted him from his home sat across from him with a manila folder filled with pages and photos. There was nothing particularly striking about his abductor. Black suite, black tie, white button up below, slick back and slicked-back hair.

“I am Special Agent Polson,” his words finally breaking the silence, “I am with the Department of Homeland Security.” The agent slid the file to the right slightly and continued, “Do you have any idea why I might want to speak to you Mr. Kennedy?” Peter was very confused but with what he had experienced in the last few days nothing would truly surprise him. “No?” the agent mocked, “What about all these emails you distributed?” A photocopy of a few of the emails was slid across the table. “We aren’t quite sure where you got all this information from but you won’t be leaving this room until you tell me,” he quipped and sat back in his chair with hands folded together.

Peter could tell he was in deeper trouble that even his new intellect could drag him out of. There was no way to logically explain how he knew the things he knew. First it was his paper and now he could possibly spend the rest of his life in jail. This wasn’t at all what he expected when he made that stupid deal. The deal. The idea was crazy but it just might work. He closed his eyes and began to repeat the demon’s prayer.

“Lord Satan, by your grace, grant me, I pray thee the power to conceive in my mind and to execute that which I desire to do, the end which I would attain by thy help, Oh Mighty Satan, the one true God who livest and reignest forever and ever…,” he spoke quietly.

“Excuse me son, I don’t think you understand just how serious this matter is,” the agent said as he leaned forward placing his hands on the table.

Peter ignored the man as he completed his chant, “I entreat thee to inspire Ose to manifest before me that he may give me true and faithful answer, so that I may accomplish my desired end, provided that it is proper to his office. This I respectfully and humbly ask in Your Name, Lord Satan, may deem worthy, Father.”

The room went dark, the air became frigid, and everything came to a halt. The agent before him stood motionless as if someone had hit the pause button on time. Then from the mirrored glass behind Peter came the demon again. It approached the boy and placed a paw on Peter’s shoulder before speaking, “So, how are things going my boy?”

“You know very well that this isn’t what I intended,” Peter said with a grimace, “At this rate I will be lucky to live a free life let alone ever see college.” Peter stood up and waved his hands around to the room and yelled, “Do you see where your help has landed me?” He barely finished his sentence before Ose shoved him back down in the chair.

“Now listen here, you should watch your tone when speaking to me. I gave you exactly what you asked for. It isn’t my fault in the slightest that you misused the gift I gave you,” Ose growled and lowered those yellow eyes to Peter’s face. “Besides, you still owe me my boy. I arrived hoping you were ready to pay but it seems you only want to complain,” the clawed finger poked at Peter again.

“Wait…No…I um…,” Peter stumbled with his words. Ose was his only way out of this mess but he would have to convince the thing it was in his best interest. “Actually, I did call you to repay you,” Peter smiled. “Not just one person but several. I am sure there are plenty of people here who would love to make a deal with you,” the words came out as a plan began to form.

“I like your style kid, but they have to come to me themselves. We can’t just go roaming the halls offering up my services to everybody we meet,” the cat-like creature snapped.

“No, no, no. We won’t need to do that at all,” Peter smirked. “You just be ready because here very shortly you will have plenty of people to speak with.” Ose rubbed his chin as he contemplated the idea then agreed. “There is just one thing though,” Peter interjected, “If I bring you more than one I should get something in return as well.” Peter felt a deep bellowing laugh ring in his head.

“I like you kid. You are a real slick one,” the demon replied, “And since I like you so much, I think I can come to terms with that. What else would you wish of me?”

About an hour later Peter stood in a large auditorium full of agents, government officials, and military personnel. Behind him he had drawn a large sigil, to the best of his memory, upon a giant dry erase board. Below the symbol he wrote the words to the prayer. “This is how I obtained all of my knowledge,” the teenager said through a microphone. A murmur started through the crowd and after a few moments Agent Polson stepped over to Peter.

Polson grabbed the boy’s arm, “Is this some kind of joke? You do realize that you will never see the light of day again if you can’t give us a real answer, right?”

Peter pulled away from the man, “Trust me.” Then leaning back into the microphone he spoke again, “If the men stationed around the room with candles could light them for me please.” Agents around the room flicked their lighters and soon there were candles burning all around them. “Now, please repeat the words I have written here and then you will have your answers,” Peter said with a smile. The room became a cacophony of voices. They all spoke the same words, just slightly out of sync. As they finished the room became deathly quiet. The candles flickered and the movement cast shadows around the room. Peter’s smile grew larger as he noticed the hint of fear growing in every man and woman in the room. Some began backing toward the door but a loud clambering was heard as the locks slammed shut. A burst of air forced its way through the room and snuffed out the light from each candle. In the darkness a sound grew like thunder. Rolling, growling, and becoming more real by the second. It was a crescendo of a primal nature and none but Peter knew the source. He could hear some of the people crying in the distance, while others fought to open the doors. Then within the middle of the crowd a scream rang out and they all moved back from it. There amidst them all stood Ose, his eyes the only light remaining in the room.

“Thank you my boy,” the being said with a smirk, “Now to keep my end of the bargain.” Ose pointed toward the wall behind Peter. The dry erase board melted into nothingness and reformed into a large wooden door. “That should get you where you need to go,” it said as Peter bowed his head in thanks. Peter turned and grasped the silver knob just behind him and twisted it. Cold air rushed in around the frame as he opened the door. As he stepped through and began to pull the door closed behind him he could hear Ose begin his proposal to a room full of horrified people. As the door shut it disappeared behind him.

Peter stepped through the admissions office of New York University. A short balding man stood up with a twinkle in his eye and reached out for Peter’s hand, “Mr. Kennedy, I have been looking forward to meeting you. I have heard such good things from a very large number of people. I am so surprised I haven’t heard of you before with all these achievements that I am being told about.” Peter shook his hand and nodded. “So, just where exactly did you study before coming here? You must have had an extensive academic background,” the simple admissions officer said.

“Not really,” Peter gave a shy response.

“Oh, come now! With all these studies that have been sparked from your research you had to learn it all somewhere,” the man’s voice became excited.

“Well, if you really want to know where I got all my answers I could show you,” Peter smirked.