Ethan Cole hadn't slept. The events of the day before played on a loop in his mind, like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. Demons. Assassinations. A secret government bureau that used otherworldly creatures as tools of war. It was impossible, and yet, here he was, sitting in a sleek, windowless room the next morning, waiting for the promised "training" to begin.
The room was cold, unnervingly so, with dim lighting and steel walls that made the whole space feel like a bunker. The air hummed with a strange energy that prickled at the edges of Ethan's consciousness. He was alone, save for a single door at the far end of the room that had yet to open.
Ethan ran his hands through his hair, still trying to process how quickly his life had changed. Twenty-four hours ago, he was just another government employee, expecting to spend his days drafting press releases. Now, he was apparently being inducted into a shadowy organization that controlled forces beyond human comprehension. He wasn't sure if he was terrified or fascinated—or both.
The door hissed open, breaking the tense silence. A woman stepped inside, her dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail, her face a mask of calm focus. She wore a black tactical suit, and at her side hung a small, wicked-looking dagger in a sheath.
"Cole," she said, her voice sharp and efficient. "I'm Agent Monroe. I'll be overseeing your initiation."
Ethan stood, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. "Initiation? I thought this was just training."
Monroe's gaze was unwavering, the kind of look that told you she'd seen things you couldn't even begin to imagine. "Training comes later. First, you need to understand what we're dealing with—and more importantly, what you are dealing with."
She motioned for him to follow, and they walked down a narrow corridor, the walls pulsing faintly with that same strange energy. Monroe spoke as they moved, her tone brisk and no-nonsense.
"You were brought into the Bureau because we identified certain traits in you—mental resilience, adaptability, a certain openness to things most people would run from. But that's only the beginning. Summoning, controlling, and binding demons isn't just about knowing the right rituals or having the right tools. It's about understanding the nature of these entities."
Ethan swallowed, the knot in his stomach growing tighter with every step. "And what is their nature?"
"They're not just mindless monsters, Cole," Monroe replied, glancing at him. "They're ancient beings. Some of them are older than humanity itself. They have their own desires, their own agendas. We trap them, we bind them, but we don't control them in the way you might think. It's more… negotiation. A careful balance of power."
"So, they're alive? They think?" Ethan asked, a shiver running down his spine.
"Some of them," she nodded. "Others are more primal, more like forces of nature than sentient beings. But they all share one thing in common: they don't belong here. They're not of this world, and that's what makes them so dangerous."
They stopped in front of a thick metal door, secured with several locks and a keypad. Monroe punched in a code, and the door slid open with a low groan. Inside was a dark chamber, the walls lined with intricate symbols that seemed to pulse with a faint, eerie light.
In the center of the room stood a large iron cage. Inside, a figure shifted, barely visible in the dim light. Ethan could feel the air change the moment he stepped into the room, the temperature dropping sharply. His breath fogged in front of him as a low growl emanated from within the cage.
Monroe walked up to the cage, completely unfazed by the creature inside. "This is a lesser demon. One of the first you'll be trained to handle. It's bound to this space, kept in check by the runes you see on the walls. But even with those precautions, it's dangerous. We've had recruits fail this step before, some of them... didn't make it."
Ethan's mouth went dry. The growling inside the cage grew louder, more distinct, and as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could finally make out the creature. It was humanoid in shape, but its skin was mottled, dark as shadows, and its eyes glowed an unnatural red. Its face was twisted in rage, sharp fangs bared, as it paced the confines of its prison.
"This is your initiation," Monroe said, turning to face Ethan. "You're going to bind it."
Ethan blinked. "Bind it? Like… control it?"
"Not control," she corrected him. "Bind. You'll establish a link with it, using the spell we've prepared. Once that link is formed, you'll be able to command it—but only so long as you maintain the strength of the bond. The second you lose focus, the second you hesitate, it will break free. And if that happens…"
She didn't need to finish the sentence. Ethan knew exactly what would happen if that thing got loose.
Monroe handed him a small silver dagger, its blade inscribed with the same symbols that lined the walls. "This is your focus. The spell is in the words I'm about to give you, but the real power comes from you. Your will is what binds it. Understand?"
Ethan nodded, though he wasn't sure he did. His heart was pounding so hard he could barely hear her over the rush of blood in his ears.
Monroe stood beside him, her voice low and steady as she recited the binding incantation. The words were unfamiliar, a guttural language that sounded ancient, unnatural on her lips. She repeated them once, slowly, and then nodded for him to begin.
Ethan took a deep breath, gripping the dagger tightly, and stepped toward the cage. The demon inside snarled, slamming itself against the bars, and Ethan had to force himself not to flinch. He raised the dagger, repeating the incantation Monroe had taught him.
As the words left his mouth, something shifted in the air around him. The symbols on the walls flared brighter, the runes on the dagger glowing in response. The demon stopped its pacing, its red eyes locking onto Ethan with an unsettling intensity.
For a moment, everything was still. Then the demon lunged at the bars, slamming into them with such force that the entire cage rattled. Ethan's heart leapt into his throat, but he didn't stop chanting. He felt something—an invisible thread—connecting him to the creature, binding its will to his own.
The demon roared, its body contorting as it strained against the bond. But the more it fought, the stronger Ethan's connection became. He could feel it now, the demon's power swirling around him, chaotic and wild, but within his grasp.
And then, suddenly, it stopped. The demon fell to its knees, panting, its eyes still glowing but no longer filled with rage. It looked at Ethan, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw something almost like recognition in its gaze.
Ethan lowered the dagger, his hands shaking, but he didn't break the bond. He had done it. He had bound the demon.
Monroe smiled faintly from the corner of the room. "Not bad for a first-timer."
Ethan exhaled, the tension slowly draining from his body. But even as the demon knelt before him, submissive, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had crossed a line. There was no going back now.