The Devil's Master

“Help me! Dear God, help me!” The words broke free from Alexander’s tight lips to co-mingle with his hot, stinging tears before falling into the empty whiskey glass set before him on the bar. His years of abject failure was caving in upon him, and his fear of it was palpable. His defeat was almost complete, just as the final blasphemy in which he was about to perform.

Alexander gripped tightly to the little black leather-bound book he held in his hand and got heavily to his feet. His thoughts nursing and rehearsing over and over in his mind of how much he had lost. His parents, his siblings, his marriage, and children, and now his job. Gone! It was as if the world was conspiring against him; as if all of Alexander’s supplications to God had fallen on proverbial deaf ears. He made it home, not really remembering the trip, and plopped himself down onto the sofa with the book still gripped tightly in hand and his face hard with resolve. He opened it and read.

At first glance there was nothing about this book that revealed it was anything but ordinary. There was no writing on the front or back cover, nor on the spine. It was only when Alexander opened it, did he realize just how extraordinary, and valuable, it really was. The book was in fact a diary; journaling one of the most notable and notorious people in world history: Johannes Faust. Alexander knew all about Faust from his days attending German classes in high school. But the stories he had learned were far from the account recorded in this book. In the stories he read in class by author Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, or the opera’s he attended by composer’s Richard Wagner and Hector Berlioz, or even in the 1926 F. W. Murnau film his class watched, it seemed, to him at least, that the Faust legend began and ended the same.

Each of those telling’s, albeit somewhat varied, Alexander could recall the protagonist conjuring up the demon, Mephistopheles, and entering a pact to gain his heart’s most desperate desire. Alexander was all too familiar with this feeling, as his own inconsolable grief over the loss of his wife and children made him a desperate man in search of a shred of peace. Faust, having made the bargain with Mephistopheles and sealing it in his own blood, had forced it into servitude for several years. The stories further continued with Mephistopheles helping Faust seduce an innocent maiden, whose life he utterly destroys by getting her pregnant. In the end, the innocent maiden ends her life, and that of their child’s. Faust, overcome with grief, pleads to God on her behalf and offers his own soul instead; his final act of repentance redeeming not only the maiden’s life but the scholar’s as well.

The book Alexander held contained nothing remotely or even suggestively redemptive but chronicled the actual account and dreadful conclusion of Faust’s damnation experiment. How this book had come into Alexander’s hands was just as mysterious as the writings inside of it. It was his chance to set things right in his miserable little life. A chance to be somebody, a chance to know everything, including the hidden secrets of the universe. This little book was his one chance to know love again, to be healthier, to become wealthier with all the comforts afforded only to a select few. Alexander was careful to read every word written before him. Each page was filled with spells and sigils, detailing instructions on the conjuring of not Mephistopheles, but of Aziel, a guarding of hidden treasures. Legend had it, it was this demon who fearlessly joined Lucifer in his rebellion against God. What could it hurt? He reasoned with himself. Faust was a damned fool! He was careless. “I won’t be making the same mistakes,” he said to himself aloud. He wasted no time and got right down to business. He was quite pleased with himself. Glad he hadn’t forgotten the German he had learned in high school and college. Alexander read the scholars' words of caution as the German words translated into English in his ears…

“It is imperative,” came the voice of Faust in his ear, “that you follow the instructions I have copied from the Grimorium Verum, so that you do not make the same foolish mistakes. First, you must prepare yourself. Shut yourself up and cut yourself off from the world. Clear your mind! Meditate on your desires.” This was not a problem. Alexander had spent the day in total seclusion and deep meditation; focusing on what he really wanted. “Second,” the author continued, “The practitioner should have fasted and sought ablution from a priest before the summoning.” Again, Alexander had that covered too, as he had gone to church every Sunday to take communion. Alexander often lingered behind on these occasions to speak with Father Ryan. “In addition, Faust continued in his ear, "You should be well versed in prayer, otherwise the spirits will not obey. Your faith must be so strong, as if your desire has already happened. Third, and this is especially important, make certain that any tools, and your protective circle, are present and complete!”

Standing in the center of one of two magical circles he drew, Alexander checked to make sure the lines were perfect, and the sigils correct. His magical tools, and diary, at the ready He raised his arms and in a loud, clear, strong voice began the Latin and English recitation.

“Et conforta stomachum est circulus, O mi Deus, et custodierit me in tenebricosae sectae dominatus praepotens. In hora defensus magicae!”

At once, the two circles glowed with a blindingly bright blue-white light; signalling that both protective spaces were charged and ready. Encouraged by this, Alexander pressed on, his hand tracing the sign of the cross as he completed the incantation.

“Fortify this circle, oh my God, and protect me against the powers of darkness. Shield me in my hour of magic. I conjure thee, Aziel, by the great and living God, the sovereign creator of all things; appear before me now in a comely human form. Without noise, without terror, or foul smell; and let thy speech be in the English language, that I may understand thee, O mighty Aziel; by Hipim, Repim, Sepim, Gulum, Locsart, Dropep, Schamot. I, Alexander Dunham, servant of the almighty God, command you! Command you! COMMAND YOU! APPEAR TO ME NOW!”

A moment of silence, and then …

“My God!” sputtered Alexander, his mouth agape as he now looked upon the figure that stood before him.

“Hardly, but we assure you, we can deliver the results you desire,” said the demon sardonically, it’s mouth stretched taught in a fiery grin.

The demon was tall and slender. Its skin was pale white, and its jet-black eyes were unblinking hard. As quick as thought, Aziel sprang forward aggressively, like a lion catching its prey, and immediately was repelled backward onto the floor by an invisible force. The demon landed hard on its back. Aziel’s body writhed as a myriad of voices cried out in agony. When the pain ended, the demon scrambled to its feet.

“What is the meaning of this!!?” it spat acidly, looking murderous.

“A precaution, should I venture out of my circle, or you from yours,” replied Alexander, trying desperately not to let slip that he was momentarily shaken.

“You'll die for this, you filthy little shit! Your suffering will be legendary even in Hell!”

“Come now, demon, is that any way to talk to your master?” replied Alexander, trying to remain calm.

“You are no master to us, Dunham,” replied the demon, hotly.

“I see. Who was it that summoned you?”

“We did. We heard your plea. Heard the blasphemy. We responded swiftly, hopeful.”

“And yet here you stand before me; held captive by my magic.”

The demon glared at Alexander; its chilling stare gave new meaning to the saying, “If looks could kill.” The floor rumbled beneath their feet. Alexander tried to steady himself in his circle and tried to remain standing. His eyes, however, never left that of the demon’s.

“Impressive,” said Alexander, standing up straight as the shaking stopped.

“Indeed,” said Aziel, impatiently. “You did not summon us here to watch a magic show. What is it that you want? Why have you disturbed our repose…? ANSWER US!!”

Alexander steadied himself. He would not be frightened into revealing his desires prematurely.

“I have need of you. I know that through you I can get things beyond my wildest dreams.”

“What's the matter, Dunham, is God on vacation? This is supposed to be his line of expertise, is it not? Granting favors? Charlatan!” The demon scoffed and spat on the floor; its yellow, puss-like spittle sizzled as it made contact.

Alexander tried to appear brave but succeeded only in looking gormless. Regaining his composure, he stepped forward with a rolled piece of parchment and tossed it into the demon's circle. Aziel caught it deftly and looked it over thoroughly. There was a look of utter contempt on the demon's face as he looked up from the scroll.

“You are very clever indeed, my Dunham,” said the demon, in darker tones of sarcastic charm. “What do you want with us?”

“I’d thought you would appreciate the effort. The pains I went through to get it exactly right,” replied Alexander, grinning. If you agree, then we will sign it. "

The contract was simple and straightforward. First, the demon would agree to never lie, a pretty clever request; one that Alexander had to assist upon. Demons were exquisite liars, often mixing their lies with truths to confuse humans. Second, the demon must come to his aide wherever and whenever called and deliver to Alexander forthwith, his heart’s every desire.

“Done!” said the demon, Aziel, without blinking, “But I wonder if we may make one small request before finalizing the agreement?”

Alexander examined Aziel, skeptically through narrowed eyes. “What request? I’ll have none of your tricks, demon!”

“No tricks, my Dunham. We will need you to agree to a few things on our end. One tiny proviso to accompany your afore mentions. Nothing complicated or intrusive, we assure you. First, you must keep the contents of this diary a secret. We wouldn't want it to fall into the wrong hands, now would we?”

“That seems fair. Agreed!” nodded Alexander.

“Second, should you attain any wealth through us, you must give a small portion of it to the less fortunate. Say, ten percent?”

“Well, I'll be damned; a demon with a heart. Agreed. Is that all?”

“No!” replied Aziel, his lip still twitching from Alexander’s last remark. “Third, we agree to be at your beck and call, but only once a week between the hours of ten at night and two in the morning.”

Alexander took a moment to think. “Agreed. But I don't understand. These new addendum’s to the contract seem trivial. Easily done.”

“Call it an insurance policy, but understand us, Dunham … if you cannot uphold your end of the bargain, you will give up your body and soul to us at the end of twenty-four years. Do we have a deal?”

Alexander stood in silence with his brow furrowed. His mind and heart racing. He faced a brand-new reality; that angels and demons were real. He now wondered if God had indeed sent his angels to help him get through the darkest times in his life. Although he couldn’t be sure, he believed, and found, much to his surprise that he had changed his mind.

“Aziel,” said Alexander, “I am not ready. I banish thee. I command thee return in peace the way you came.”

The demon looked momentarily stunned, but not at all surprised. “As you wish, Dunham,” it said with disdain before bowing gracefully and silently vanishing. Alexander put the book away. Perhaps in time he would revisit it. Perhaps he wouldn’t.