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Description
          I woke up to find something warm and thick being poured all over me.
“You’re awake.  I looked forward to getting your reaction before I invoke the power of the circle.”
          I opened my eyes to identify the husky voice to be that of an elder man.  He had blue eyes tinted yellow, and black hair that swept his shoulders, unruly like he had forgotten to cut it.  His forehead danced with wrinkles, and his skin was an almond color, reminding me of an American Indian, Hawaiian mix.  He was very square, and big if his shoulders were any indication.  The flaps of skin hanging off of his arms told of a once much rounder man.
          Hazily I realized it was hard to move, partly because I was drugged and maybe because my hands were chained behind me.  Scratch that—my hands were squished under me.  I was lying on some type of an altar.
          How did I know this?  Well I figured they stopped making stainless steel doctor gurneys in the middle of rock formations, crazy witch doctor not included.
What the hell was going on?  I could have asked, but the old man started mumbling . . .
          “Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, I invoke the power of the circle; I cast and call forth Lucifer Himself with my own blood sacrifice and a virgin offering.  Grace me with your presence all high lord of demons,” He chanted on waving bloody hands clenching a bloody mass.
          Lovely, just love-er-ly.  I’m a virgin sacrifice.  How the blazes did I get here?  Amazingly, I remained calm when a dark cloud manifested itself above and to my left, right next to Ugly.  I’d blame drugs except for the fact that I haven’t willingly taken anything non-prescription in my life—Midol and Advil not withstanding, as they are gods unto themselves.
          The cloud dispersed to unveil a creature of male greatness.  Wings of a bat unfurled around the tall being.  Of course Lucifer had to be larger than life.  He had straight platinum blond hair tied back, with wisps longer than bangs sticking out every which way.  I sat up as far as I could manage to get a better view, even as alarms went off in my mind yelling for me to run.  The incredibly pale creature was wearing what looked to be muslin threaded with leather cording and raw cotton breeches.
          Muscles settled in places that seemed unlikely for a human, as if the very life drained away.  Incredibly still, the dark seemed to gain weight.  The firelight became ominous, dancing gleefully over its avatar.  I jumped when his eyes flashed revealing black depths.  Our eyes locked for a moment, and I felt coldness, as if I moved I would get sucked down into a spiral and fall and fall.  A flicker of warmth in his gaze put me at ease when it should have had me paralyzed in fear.  False confidence added to the surreal feel of the night air.
          That coldness turned to Old Guy, who still had a chunky dripping mass of something in his hands, and froze him with a smile, “You rang?”
          Evil laughing issued from Tard Boy, hinting at insanity.
          “Will you shut up already!”  I groaned from my prone position.  I lay back down, trying to ignore the tinge in my hands.  I should have been praying for salvation, but I’m already saved.  I threw up a mental ‘God be with me,’ just  in case.
          Skin Bag slapped me across the face, “You will show respect for the High Lord.”
          I started laughing.  It was that or cry; my head hurt.
          “What’s so funny?”  Lucifer stalked to the altar to loom over me.  It seemed churlish really.
          Calling a Devil, or demon High Lord, is risky business.  It takes extreme power, for they’re not controllable.  You call `em up, hoping your sacrifice is worthy; even still they might just kill you after the fact.  When that happens it takes a handful of priests to cleanse the grounds of the devil and the taint it leaves behind.  And then, its not like they could destroy the High Lord, they could only send the thing back to Hell.
          I shook my head.  “Demon Lord, will you please undo my hands?”
          “Why you—“ Capitol  ‘I’ Idiot attempted to slap me again.
          “—As you wish.”  And just like that I was free.  It turned out I had on leg shackles too.  I sat up only to find the world spinning.  Not a good feeling.
          “Gee, did you hit me with a freakin’ two by four?  I thought I was drugged.”  My Texas twang became obvious with my sarcasm.  The back of my head was matted with blood, this time my own.  It didn’t really hurt.  I noticed Lucifer’s feet were more like talons.  “Maybe I’m sleeping?”
          “Enough!  High Lord, I offer you myself and this girl as sacrifice.  I wish to have endless power in Hell; I--“
          “—I’m naked.  And bloody.”  I was just stating the facts.  I tried to contort my face to demonstrate my disgust, but failed horribly when the wound on my head stretched painfully.
          Just then I noticed we had an audience.  As soon as I saw them, I could hear them.  All around the all-to-evident circle of blood and gore, police had guns aimed in our direction.  Many didn’t look like they knew what was happening. Wow, what a confidence booster.  I just hoped I didn’t get shot.  All of them were praying to whatever god they knew.  Great.  All eyes turned to me.  Few would look directly at the Devil; guess I was better eye candy.
          “This is embarrassing,” I pouted.  The rock walls amplified everything tenfold.  Lucifer’s eyes sparkled.  Ugly Man took that as a bad sign and slapped me again.  I ended up in the High Lord’s arms.
          I blushed.  The bastard had the audacity to smirk.  So I did what every self respecting virgin sacrifice would do.  I got angry.
          Pointing, I stood up.  “You.  STOP hitting the virgin sacrifice!  I doubt Big and Beautiful here could match me in a beauty contest, but purple spots tend to be signs of Damaged Goods,” Lucifer was laughing outright, an innocent sound unbefitting of a demon, “and You—what’s so funny?  You’re just as stuck as I am.”
          Theoretically speaking.  I was in the middle of my very own fantasy novel, My Mind by Me.  I had a hand on my hip and one to my forehead.  My mouth tends to run when I get angry.  And feeling like crap was making me plenty angry.
          “Forgive me.  This is the first time I’ve had the pleasure to talk to my sacrifice.”
          “Glad to be amusing,” I scowled.
          Maggot Man was steaming, sputtering and close to spontaneous combustion.
          A long black claw tapped thoughtfully against the damned immortal’s chin.  The gesture was a derisive of humanity.  Getting into his role of Evil Being, Lucifer’s wings puffed out to full span.  Their leathery blackness was devoid of light, while his pale skin shone and danced with the flames.  The fire seemed to consume him.
          “Being summoned as such, I am required to take a soul.”
          “Mine’s taken,” I shot to attention immediately.
           He nodded, “I can see that,” and turned to Flab Master, who directly picked up his cue.
          “My soul has a price.  I want power, endless power.”  He sounded like a TV evangelist—pronounced as “powa!”  with an exclamation point.  “Enough to rule Hell and beyond…”  Blah, blah, blah.  I stopped paying attention to the tirade.
          It was fruitless, and I was still naked and bloody.  It was my dream; I should at least be wearing white robes right?  Well, I have had weirder dreams…
          Doing the best I could with waist length brown hair, which obviously wasn’t mine—first clue to dreaming—and let it plaster to my backside.  The front was a more demanding problem.  Those were familiar.  I’m not considered the most petite individual; I prefer being called robust and curvaceous.  My arms weren’t quite adequate for modesty sake.  Not finding anything, I returned to sit on the alter.  Hey, at least it was clean.
          Looking around me, I could count twenty people dressed in Special Forces gear, with the head to toe black, spiffy Kevlar vests, and bulky helmets.  Beyond them, police swarmed the opening of the cave like formation.  Guns were out, but few were pointed.  They definitely had some gear that wasn’t police issued. They seemed eerily quiet in the red and blue flashing darkness.  How they managed to get cars in the area was beyond me.
          The circle was placed at an outcropping of burnished rock, the kind with lines all over it used to tell the rocks’ age.  I couldn’t tell what color, reddish or gray, the rock was to identify where I was. Its odd feeling lost in your sleep. Most times it really doesn’t matter.
         “…with everything I have given and rise up in all my powa!  By name I command you, Lucifer, Demon High Lord of Hell to grant me this favor.”  Face splotched red, Ugly gasped at the end of his little monologue.
          Lucifer sighed, bored, “Your price has been paid in full.  Enter the Gates of Hell at your own mercy.” An ominous door popped up.  Lesser demons, looking like stick figure renditions of little devils, sprouted from the earth in puffs of smoke.  They began advancing on the old guy, which was in my direction.
          Slowly as not to call attention to myself, I slipped behind Lucifer—who yawned—and started praying.  Evil radiated through the circle.  Sulfur and brimstone permeated the air, making my eyes water as I choked down small breathes. It burned! Gack.
          The minions forcibly grabbed Ugly, whom continued laughing maniacally then hurried through the gate.  Just like that, it was gone.  So was Ugly.
          I remained huddled behind Lucifer, hugging myself.  A cloak was pulled out of the air and wrapped around my shoulders.  “I believe I was offered two sacrifices?”
          'I' gave a depreciating laugh.  “What does the Commander of the Guard need souls for?  My soul is taken, my life is unlived, and I am pure in body and spirit.” I started thinking aloud.  “You can’t taint me, cause that’s messing with free will.  You could rape and kill me, but that seems petty when you don’t get anything out of the deal.”  When you rule out mind, body and soul, what’s left as a fitting offer to a demon High Lord?
         “My, my.  You do know your demonology.  How does such a girl come about this knowledge?  A young girl of faith.” The last word was a scoff.
          “Are you implying that I’m not man enough for you?” it slipped out before I could stop it.  Really.
          He laughed, “No, I’m just curious.”
          At this point I had lost track of the conversation. So much of this was strange, and much of it I just knew because because. I had to actually think for a reply, not realizing ‘I’ had already started speaking out loud.
          “I have absolute faith…I didn’t always, but I asked for deliverance.  When I became too bigheaded, I hit rock bottom.  I caught a glimpse of life with Satan.  I saw the fall, I know of the rift in the worlds…and his continued ruling of Hell…” the bare bones version of course.
          “Bale must be passing around history lessons again…”
          “Huh?” was my oh-so intelligent reply but: What?
          “Oh, just rambling aloud.  Bale’s been complaining about the population influx Hell’s had lately due to human ignorance.  It would figure—he is the Name Keeper of the Underworld.”
          I sighed, Me, the one who is stuck in that other one while I dreamed.  Who knew and who really cared what he was talking about.  I really had no idea what I was doing here; let alone what he was talking about.  I mean—I could figure out the whole human sacrifice bit, but the police?  Lucifer?  Blood?  It was too much.  My brain felt like it was frizzing with pop rocks and soda.
          My friends would have a doozey with this one.  I could picture them all oohing and ahhing over the dream dictionary, ‘Yup. Definitely super gay.’ Ha. Inside joke.
          “How do I wake up?”  I asked.  I thought it was a pretty valid question, considering the circumstance.  How many Gates of Hell do you know that come demon peon included?  …Yea, same here.
          “Would you rather be dreaming?”
          “I was last time I had a surreal experience.”
          “Another sacrifice or offering must be made to get rid of the circle.”  Lucifer gestured with his clawed hand.  Once again I noticed the officers surrounding us.
          Hugging the blanket closer, my voice sounded small.  “This is really happening?”  I squeaked.
          He nodded and gave me a patient stare.
          Thoughts jumbled my mind as I wracked my brain, and words formed and tumbled out before I had a chance to consider them.  “I offer you a pact in the restoration of Earth.  Are my requested services fit enough for a High Lord?”
          As soon as they left my mouth, I knew the words were not my own.  An enrapturing contentment left us both calm and sure of the deal.  Lucifer held himself together, but I could tell enlightenment from the Holy Ghost was not a common occurrence for him.  I just sighed and soaked it up.
          “Do you feel that?” he murmured in awe.
          “Every time I pray,” I grinned at his elated expression.
          Lucifer shook himself, looking like a ruffled bird, and settled back in the present.  “I accept your offering.  Let us make and oath.”
He drew out my hand and clawed a line down the meaty palm under my thumb.  Doing the same to himself, I watched in morbid fascination as blood sluggishly pooled in my hand.
          Lucifer grasped our hands together.  I gasped.  His words held substantial weight in the air, making it hard to breathe.  They echoed in my head even as my voice combined with his in an oath ordained by those bigger than both of us.
          “Through blood I bind to you in friendship.  Me and mine shall protect you and yours.  In the name of Satan I ask that this binding hold true; in the name of God I ask that no harm shall befall the pure.  Along with this pact, I bestow unto you my strength, will, and devotion.  This blood oath is as endless in time as it is unbroken by death.  We are bound by name.”
          I sucked in a jagged breath, and held his hand for dear life.  He continued on his own, “Granting God’s mercy, I ask that He acknowledge this oath of His child by bestowing upon her the same as I, a blessing of strength, will and love.”
Chanting together again, “We are bound.”
          The last statement seemed to solidify the weight of the oath in the air and invaded everything I am.  I couldn’t see for the blinding sensations engulfing my senses.  Spots formed in my peripheral vision, white noise screamed in my ears, I choked on the battling smells.
          With his closing seal of the deal, after images dissipated enough that the surrounding area came into focus.  I was heaving small pants.
          I came back to myself enough to see that I wasn’t on solid ground, but clutched in the arms of Lucifer.
          I looked at my hand, where there was a scar no bigger than a hole-punch.  A lethargy swept over me, wrapped around every part until we hit the ground.  He held me for a moment just looking at me, then placed me to sit on the alter.
         The circle must have broken, because the police noise and shouting could now be heard in Sony surround sound.  The air was just air, and the stain on the earth would heal itself.  I was silently mesmerized by the flashing blues and reds dancing off the cliff face.
         “The circle has served its purpose.”  Mechanically, I turned to face him.  “You are your namesake Angelina Renae.  May your word be true.”  Darkness swirled around the hoard of men and women anxious over whether to save me or shoot me.
         “And also with you,” I managed as my senses returned with hyperactive clarity.  The sensory overload was too much for me to handle, the world screamed overwhelmingly, and then it was blissfully dark.
         Tomorrow was going to be a bitch of a morning.

Description
          I woke up to find something warm and thick being poured all over me.
“You’re awake.  I looked forward to getting your reaction before I invoke the power of the circle.”
          I opened my eyes to identify the husky voice to be that of an elder man.  He had blue eyes tinted yellow, and black hair that swept his shoulders, unruly like he had forgotten to cut it.  His forehead danced with wrinkles, and his skin was an almond color, reminding me of an American Indian, Hawaiian mix.  He was very square, and big if his shoulders were any indication.  The flaps of skin hanging off of his arms told of a once much rounder man.
          Hazily I realized it was hard to move, partly because I was drugged and maybe because my hands were chained behind me.  Scratch that—my hands were squished under me.  I was lying on some type of an altar.
          How did I know this?  Well I figured they stopped making stainless steel doctor gurneys in the middle of rock formations, crazy witch doctor not included.
What the hell was going on?  I could have asked, but the old man started mumbling . . .
          “Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, I invoke the power of the circle; I cast and call forth Lucifer Himself with my own blood sacrifice and a virgin offering.  Grace me with your presence all high lord of demons,” He chanted on waving bloody hands clenching a bloody mass.
          Lovely, just love-er-ly.  I’m a virgin sacrifice.  How the blazes did I get here?  Amazingly, I remained calm when a dark cloud manifested itself above and to my left, right next to Ugly.  I’d blame drugs except for the fact that I haven’t willingly taken anything non-prescription in my life—Midol and Advil not withstanding, as they are gods unto themselves.
          The cloud dispersed to unveil a creature of male greatness.  Wings of a bat unfurled around the tall being.  Of course Lucifer had to be larger than life.  He had straight platinum blond hair tied back, with wisps longer than bangs sticking out every which way.  I sat up as far as I could manage to get a better view, even as alarms went off in my mind yelling for me to run.  The incredibly pale creature was wearing what looked to be muslin threaded with leather cording and raw cotton breeches.
          Muscles settled in places that seemed unlikely for a human, as if the very life drained away.  Incredibly still, the dark seemed to gain weight.  The firelight became ominous, dancing gleefully over its avatar.  I jumped when his eyes flashed revealing black depths.  Our eyes locked for a moment, and I felt coldness, as if I moved I would get sucked down into a spiral and fall and fall.  A flicker of warmth in his gaze put me at ease when it should have had me paralyzed in fear.  False confidence added to the surreal feel of the night air.
          That coldness turned to Old Guy, who still had a chunky dripping mass of something in his hands, and froze him with a smile, “You rang?”
          Evil laughing issued from Tard Boy, hinting at insanity.
          “Will you shut up already!”  I groaned from my prone position.  I lay back down, trying to ignore the tinge in my hands.  I should have been praying for salvation, but I’m already saved.  I threw up a mental ‘God be with me,’ just  in case.
          Skin Bag slapped me across the face, “You will show respect for the High Lord.”
          I started laughing.  It was that or cry; my head hurt.
          “What’s so funny?”  Lucifer stalked to the altar to loom over me.  It seemed churlish really.
          Calling a Devil, or demon High Lord, is risky business.  It takes extreme power, for they’re not controllable.  You call `em up, hoping your sacrifice is worthy; even still they might just kill you after the fact.  When that happens it takes a handful of priests to cleanse the grounds of the devil and the taint it leaves behind.  And then, its not like they could destroy the High Lord, they could only send the thing back to Hell.
          I shook my head.  “Demon Lord, will you please undo my hands?”
          “Why you—“ Capitol  ‘I’ Idiot attempted to slap me again.
          “—As you wish.”  And just like that I was free.  It turned out I had on leg shackles too.  I sat up only to find the world spinning.  Not a good feeling.
          “Gee, did you hit me with a freakin’ two by four?  I thought I was drugged.”  My Texas twang became obvious with my sarcasm.  The back of my head was matted with blood, this time my own.  It didn’t really hurt.  I noticed Lucifer’s feet were more like talons.  “Maybe I’m sleeping?”
          “Enough!  High Lord, I offer you myself and this girl as sacrifice.  I wish to have endless power in Hell; I--“
          “—I’m naked.  And bloody.”  I was just stating the facts.  I tried to contort my face to demonstrate my disgust, but failed horribly when the wound on my head stretched painfully.
          Just then I noticed we had an audience.  As soon as I saw them, I could hear them.  All around the all-to-evident circle of blood and gore, police had guns aimed in our direction.  Many didn’t look like they knew what was happening. Wow, what a confidence booster.  I just hoped I didn’t get shot.  All of them were praying to whatever god they knew.  Great.  All eyes turned to me.  Few would look directly at the Devil; guess I was better eye candy.
          “This is embarrassing,” I pouted.  The rock walls amplified everything tenfold.  Lucifer’s eyes sparkled.  Ugly Man took that as a bad sign and slapped me again.  I ended up in the High Lord’s arms.
          I blushed.  The bastard had the audacity to smirk.  So I did what every self respecting virgin sacrifice would do.  I got angry.
          Pointing, I stood up.  “You.  STOP hitting the virgin sacrifice!  I doubt Big and Beautiful here could match me in a beauty contest, but purple spots tend to be signs of Damaged Goods,” Lucifer was laughing outright, an innocent sound unbefitting of a demon, “and You—what’s so funny?  You’re just as stuck as I am.”
          Theoretically speaking.  I was in the middle of my very own fantasy novel, My Mind by Me.  I had a hand on my hip and one to my forehead.  My mouth tends to run when I get angry.  And feeling like crap was making me plenty angry.
          “Forgive me.  This is the first time I’ve had the pleasure to talk to my sacrifice.”
          “Glad to be amusing,” I scowled.
          Maggot Man was steaming, sputtering and close to spontaneous combustion.
          A long black claw tapped thoughtfully against the damned immortal’s chin.  The gesture was a derisive of humanity.  Getting into his role of Evil Being, Lucifer’s wings puffed out to full span.  Their leathery blackness was devoid of light, while his pale skin shone and danced with the flames.  The fire seemed to consume him.
          “Being summoned as such, I am required to take a soul.”
          “Mine’s taken,” I shot to attention immediately.
           He nodded, “I can see that,” and turned to Flab Master, who directly picked up his cue.
          “My soul has a price.  I want power, endless power.”  He sounded like a TV evangelist—pronounced as “powa!”  with an exclamation point.  “Enough to rule Hell and beyond…”  Blah, blah, blah.  I stopped paying attention to the tirade.
          It was fruitless, and I was still naked and bloody.  It was my dream; I should at least be wearing white robes right?  Well, I have had weirder dreams…
          Doing the best I could with waist length brown hair, which obviously wasn’t mine—first clue to dreaming—and let it plaster to my backside.  The front was a more demanding problem.  Those were familiar.  I’m not considered the most petite individual; I prefer being called robust and curvaceous.  My arms weren’t quite adequate for modesty sake.  Not finding anything, I returned to sit on the alter.  Hey, at least it was clean.
          Looking around me, I could count twenty people dressed in Special Forces gear, with the head to toe black, spiffy Kevlar vests, and bulky helmets.  Beyond them, police swarmed the opening of the cave like formation.  Guns were out, but few were pointed.  They definitely had some gear that wasn’t police issued. They seemed eerily quiet in the red and blue flashing darkness.  How they managed to get cars in the area was beyond me.
          The circle was placed at an outcropping of burnished rock, the kind with lines all over it used to tell the rocks’ age.  I couldn’t tell what color, reddish or gray, the rock was to identify where I was. Its odd feeling lost in your sleep. Most times it really doesn’t matter.
         “…with everything I have given and rise up in all my powa!  By name I command you, Lucifer, Demon High Lord of Hell to grant me this favor.”  Face splotched red, Ugly gasped at the end of his little monologue.
          Lucifer sighed, bored, “Your price has been paid in full.  Enter the Gates of Hell at your own mercy.” An ominous door popped up.  Lesser demons, looking like stick figure renditions of little devils, sprouted from the earth in puffs of smoke.  They began advancing on the old guy, which was in my direction.
          Slowly as not to call attention to myself, I slipped behind Lucifer—who yawned—and started praying.  Evil radiated through the circle.  Sulfur and brimstone permeated the air, making my eyes water as I choked down small breathes. It burned! Gack.
          The minions forcibly grabbed Ugly, whom continued laughing maniacally then hurried through the gate.  Just like that, it was gone.  So was Ugly.
          I remained huddled behind Lucifer, hugging myself.  A cloak was pulled out of the air and wrapped around my shoulders.  “I believe I was offered two sacrifices?”
          'I' gave a depreciating laugh.  “What does the Commander of the Guard need souls for?  My soul is taken, my life is unlived, and I am pure in body and spirit.” I started thinking aloud.  “You can’t taint me, cause that’s messing with free will.  You could rape and kill me, but that seems petty when you don’t get anything out of the deal.”  When you rule out mind, body and soul, what’s left as a fitting offer to a demon High Lord?
         “My, my.  You do know your demonology.  How does such a girl come about this knowledge?  A young girl of faith.” The last word was a scoff.
          “Are you implying that I’m not man enough for you?” it slipped out before I could stop it.  Really.
          He laughed, “No, I’m just curious.”
          At this point I had lost track of the conversation. So much of this was strange, and much of it I just knew because because. I had to actually think for a reply, not realizing ‘I’ had already started speaking out loud.
          “I have absolute faith…I didn’t always, but I asked for deliverance.  When I became too bigheaded, I hit rock bottom.  I caught a glimpse of life with Satan.  I saw the fall, I know of the rift in the worlds…and his continued ruling of Hell…” the bare bones version of course.
          “Bale must be passing around history lessons again…”
          “Huh?” was my oh-so intelligent reply but: What?
          “Oh, just rambling aloud.  Bale’s been complaining about the population influx Hell’s had lately due to human ignorance.  It would figure—he is the Name Keeper of the Underworld.”
          I sighed, Me, the one who is stuck in that other one while I dreamed.  Who knew and who really cared what he was talking about.  I really had no idea what I was doing here; let alone what he was talking about.  I mean—I could figure out the whole human sacrifice bit, but the police?  Lucifer?  Blood?  It was too much.  My brain felt like it was frizzing with pop rocks and soda.
          My friends would have a doozey with this one.  I could picture them all oohing and ahhing over the dream dictionary, ‘Yup. Definitely super gay.’ Ha. Inside joke.
          “How do I wake up?”  I asked.  I thought it was a pretty valid question, considering the circumstance.  How many Gates of Hell do you know that come demon peon included?  …Yea, same here.
          “Would you rather be dreaming?”
          “I was last time I had a surreal experience.”
          “Another sacrifice or offering must be made to get rid of the circle.”  Lucifer gestured with his clawed hand.  Once again I noticed the officers surrounding us.
          Hugging the blanket closer, my voice sounded small.  “This is really happening?”  I squeaked.
          He nodded and gave me a patient stare.
          Thoughts jumbled my mind as I wracked my brain, and words formed and tumbled out before I had a chance to consider them.  “I offer you a pact in the restoration of Earth.  Are my requested services fit enough for a High Lord?”
          As soon as they left my mouth, I knew the words were not my own.  An enrapturing contentment left us both calm and sure of the deal.  Lucifer held himself together, but I could tell enlightenment from the Holy Ghost was not a common occurrence for him.  I just sighed and soaked it up.
          “Do you feel that?” he murmured in awe.
          “Every time I pray,” I grinned at his elated expression.
          Lucifer shook himself, looking like a ruffled bird, and settled back in the present.  “I accept your offering.  Let us make and oath.”
He drew out my hand and clawed a line down the meaty palm under my thumb.  Doing the same to himself, I watched in morbid fascination as blood sluggishly pooled in my hand.
          Lucifer grasped our hands together.  I gasped.  His words held substantial weight in the air, making it hard to breathe.  They echoed in my head even as my voice combined with his in an oath ordained by those bigger than both of us.
          “Through blood I bind to you in friendship.  Me and mine shall protect you and yours.  In the name of Satan I ask that this binding hold true; in the name of God I ask that no harm shall befall the pure.  Along with this pact, I bestow unto you my strength, will, and devotion.  This blood oath is as endless in time as it is unbroken by death.  We are bound by name.”
          I sucked in a jagged breath, and held his hand for dear life.  He continued on his own, “Granting God’s mercy, I ask that He acknowledge this oath of His child by bestowing upon her the same as I, a blessing of strength, will and love.”
Chanting together again, “We are bound.”
          The last statement seemed to solidify the weight of the oath in the air and invaded everything I am.  I couldn’t see for the blinding sensations engulfing my senses.  Spots formed in my peripheral vision, white noise screamed in my ears, I choked on the battling smells.
          With his closing seal of the deal, after images dissipated enough that the surrounding area came into focus.  I was heaving small pants.
          I came back to myself enough to see that I wasn’t on solid ground, but clutched in the arms of Lucifer.
          I looked at my hand, where there was a scar no bigger than a hole-punch.  A lethargy swept over me, wrapped around every part until we hit the ground.  He held me for a moment just looking at me, then placed me to sit on the alter.
         The circle must have broken, because the police noise and shouting could now be heard in Sony surround sound.  The air was just air, and the stain on the earth would heal itself.  I was silently mesmerized by the flashing blues and reds dancing off the cliff face.
         “The circle has served its purpose.”  Mechanically, I turned to face him.  “You are your namesake Angelina Renae.  May your word be true.”  Darkness swirled around the hoard of men and women anxious over whether to save me or shoot me.
         “And also with you,” I managed as my senses returned with hyperactive clarity.  The sensory overload was too much for me to handle, the world screamed overwhelmingly, and then it was blissfully dark.
         Tomorrow was going to be a bitch of a morning.