Convoke

Chapter 2

"I dreamt that a demon was burning my house down," Finn said, peeling grey strands back as he leaned down to sip his beer.

Tom stared at him, wondering how he could afford to sit in a pub for 6 hours a day. But he had learned early on that he shouldn't ask questions like that. Locals came to drink, not to be judged. "Oh yeah?" he mumbled with his palm on his chin and his other hand drumming in tune with the music. His father had in fact, not made it out of bed in time for the pub to open.

"Yeah!" Finn declared, scratching at his stubbly chin. "And another one was screaming all kinds of abuse at me." He shook his head angrily. "I hate them."

"They're not as bad as they are in your dreams, especially the soul strippers." Tom remembered the first time he had seen a soul stripper on his walk home from school. He was only nine years old, so his dad had later explained that demon soul strippers took the bad part of the soul, while the angel took the good parts. He was fascinated by angels and demons working together. Tom remembered asking if all people were born with good and bad in them. His dad had chuckled and said, 'We are born blank. It's up to us what we fill our souls with.' Tom had never forgotten that.

"Yes they are! Look what happened to old scotty just yesterday! Glass in his throat. I thought he was going to die."

"The demon did nothing wrong to him. Scotty started it." Tom stood up straighter when Finn's friend joined them at the bar to tell them his dreams about horrible demons doing evil things. "You guys have been dreaming about them because of that fight last night. I've not once seen a demon start something first. They're not allowed."

"They're here to tempt us with their mischief and I-" Finn pointed at himself, as if that wasn't clear enough, "don't like it!"

His friend cheered and they downed their drinks. Tom refilled their glasses, but the demon slander continued. "This is a demon friendly pub. Imagine if things were reversed and demons had human friendly pubs, but when you walked into one, they were shit-talking about humans?"

"Humans are not born evil. We're not designed with bad intentions," Finn argued. "Demons don't deserve to be here and tempt us."

As the door to the pub opened and closed, momentarily letting in the cold spring air, Tom claimed, "Demons are not born evil either. They just have a bad rep. They don't deserve half of the abuse we give them." Finn and his friend rolled their eyes, but their arguing was never serious. Tom had known Finn all his life. He was practically part of the worn-out furniture. "What can I get you?" he asked, looking up and into the eyes of a demon.

Tom tensed; side-eyeing Finn who hadn't noticed a demon standing a few metres away.

"Strongbow," the demon replied with that same deep voice as yesterday.

Tom nodded and tried not to stare. The demon had covered his demon mark neck tattoo with tight black fabric that tucked into his dark blue hoodie. Like yesterday, his hood was up, so Tom only recognised the scar curling from his cheek and onto his chin. And like yesterday, he carried an old book.

He shivered when the demon dropped three pound coins into his palm. Finn turned and watched the demon bury himself into the corner of the pub. "Leave him alone," Tom murmured. "A soul stripper will just sit quietly. They're the calmest of the lot."

Finn grumbled under his breath and moved to the opposite side of the pub. Tom busied himself with jobs and served what little customers they had at midday. The horseracing was distracting the old locals. Tom listened to his playlist quietly in the background. He liked Sunday workdays. They were easy and calm, though he wasn't supposed to work today, and made his annoyance obvious when his dad finally surfaced.