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12

Byron heard a sniffling noise from behind him, and in his mind the demon girl had her head in the air, attempting to scent track like a bloodhound. He wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one and realized he had no way of telling. 

Everything has gone topsy-turvy. He thought to himself.

“Clever,” The demon sneered. “Very clever. Which one of you summoned the seraph?” 

“Not me,” Byron grunted. “I don't even know what a seraph is.”

“And not the girl… she hasn't had nearly enough time to learn how to do such a thing. It would take years of study… no...” All at once, Byron felt the stool under his feet jolt as though the demon had kicked it roughly.

“Wait...” he hopelessly, foolishly grabbed the rope as though holding it would save him from hanging. 

“Who is helping you?” she exhorted, her voice tinged with anger. Byron

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