Broomsticks And Brimstone

My first mistake was buying that damned Roomba. I’ve always hated sweeping and mopping and after my wife left me, I decided it would just be easier to get some help for work around the house. Then I went out to a hippie crystal shop, don’t ask me what I was doing there because I have no idea, but I saw a rug that looked exactly like a Ouija board. My wife took all of the decorations with her when she left so things were looking a bit bare, and the price was right, so I bought it and brought it home.

Things were fine for the first few days. My floors never looked cleaner, and I was enjoying the kitschy rug that people couldn’t help commenting on when they came over to visit. It took about a week before everything turned to shit.

I woke up smelling smoke. I rolled over and looked at the clock and saw that it was 1:31 am. Crawling out of bed I decided to go in search of the source of the smell. No matter which room I looked in I couldn’t find anything smoking or burning. It wasn’t until I headed back up to bed that I noticed the Roomba at the foot of the stairs. Somehow the smell was coming from it! But it wasn’t exactly a burning smell. I couldn’t exactly describe it, but it was different from any burning smell that I had ever experienced. I walked closer and it spun around and lurched right at me. When it got to my bare feet it shot across them and scratched me up pretty good. I was bleeding on the carpet from multiple wounds. Suddenly I heard a voice coming from the Roomba and I didn’t think those came with voice capabilities.

“Who has summoned me?” the voice asked.

“Summoned who?” I responded.

“You, Human, release me from this form so that I may flay the skin from your bones!”

“I’m not sure how to…”

“Lying meatsack! I have tasted your blood, and I will not hesitate to do it again. How would you know to summon me if you didn’t know how to release me?”

“I didn’t summon anything! I was sleeping and smelled smoke, so I came down to see if anything was on fire.”

“Fire? You think something as pedestrian as FIRE could contain me?”

“Then what the hell is that smell?!”

“That smell, you insignificant mortal, is the scent of Brimstone. The smell of my home and my power.”

“Brimstone? But that means you’re...”

“You finally understand what you have done? You have summoned a demon of the below! A master of the underland and creator of torment and chaos!”

“I DIDN’T SUMMON ANYTHING!”

“Enough! Your kind is always talky talky and not enough action. Silence talkymeat and release me!”

I looked around wondering exactly how the hell I got myself into this mess. My eyes had adjusted to the dark during the few minutes I was talking, and I finally noticed it. The Ouija rug! There was a circled shaped scorch mark in the center of the rug and that is where the smell was coming from.

“The Rug! That’s how you got here!”

“More talking? I warned you mortal.”

It shot across the room and attacked my feet again. I tried to kick it off but nothing I did helped and before I knew it one of my toes was missing!

“Alright alright stop! How do I send you back?”

“Back? You think I want to go BACK? You will release me from this tiny automaton and welcome me into your body. Then we will go forth and show the world just what hell truly is.”

“I’m not even sure HOW to release you.”

“You will destroy this mechanical vessel and that will allow me to possess the next one available. Which would be YOU.”

I realized I was still bleeding on the floor, so I took off my shirt and tore strips to wrap my feet.

“Before I agree to anything I want to know more about you.”

“Talkymeat you are beginning to get on my nerves. Unless you want to lose additional digits do as you're told!”

“My name is Chance, not talkymeat.”

“My name cannot be pronounced with human lips. But you may call me…. Jeff.”

“JEFF?!”

“Yes. It was the name of my last host, and it is much easier than attempting to get your weak flesh to correctly pronounce my name.”

“Alright… Jeff, what do I get for allowing you to possess my body?”

“POWER!”

“And what do I lose?”

“Just your mortal soul but since you don’t seem to be doing much with it that doesn’t seem to be much of a loss.”

“Excuse me?”

“I tasted your blood boy. I know everything that you have done or ever will do. Your life will amount to nothing.”

“Fuck you little demon! You can’t do much to me stuck in a robot vacuum. Especially if I wear shoes.”

I started walking back up the stairs and it tried to follow but couldn’t get up the stairs. I could vaguely hear threats being screamed at me but ignored them and went back to sleep.

I woke up to the sounds of my dog Naomi whimpering and licking my face like she does every morning. I pulled back the covers and started to set my feet down before remembering the possessed Roomba. I pulled my steel toed boots out from under the bed and slid my battered feet inside. At the bottom of the stairs, right where I left him, was Jeff. It still seemed ridiculous to call a demon that, but I didn’t know what else to call it. As I reached the bottom it (he?) came up and started talking to me again.

“I… apologize. Things got out of hand earlier, and I am sorry.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed.

“You think this is FUNNY?!?”

“Well actually…. yeah. You can’t do much to me in such a tiny package and now you realize that. You need my help, but I don’t think I’m feeling particularly generous right now. Maybe I will just leave you in there and you can scream and yell to your heart's content.”

“You may be able to protect yourself but what about your canine? I know how your kind feels about pets and all it would take is one mistake and I will devour that mutt before your very eyes.”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER!”

“Ahh, you see? I have found your weakness. Now release me and your dog will be as safe as a baby.”

I kind of like my soul where it is, I thought to myself. How do I get myself into these messes and how the hell am I going to get myself out of this one? Suddenly I remembered something from all of the mythology classes I took in college.

“Don’t demons like to make bargains?”

“Perhaps if the terms are correct.”

“Well how about a compromise...”

And that’s how I got to where I am today, carrying a demonically possessed Roomba around finding offerings and sacrifices in exchange for wishes. And if I don’t give Jeff what he wants he’s going to eat my dog!

THE END

Bio: When he's not hosting his bimonthly YouTube Livestream “The Teahouse,” Kǎiláng is a musician, writer, martial artist and creator. He makes custom Chinese style hand bound journals and hand drawn calligraphy. This is his second published work, but it won't be his last.

E-mail: Lǐ Kǎiláng

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