This demon was different to the soul stripper. He had the same barber wire tattoo around his neck, but he was shorter and wearing a t-shirt in the bitter March air. He was younger too- maybe fifteen years old. Tom knew he had been around for a lot longer than fifteen years.

"Do you want to call it a night?" he asked, and everyone turned. Tom shivered from the demon's intense presence. Phil and Torin moved so he could put the rubbish bags in the bin. Tom was unsure whether to just leave. If anyone was badly hurt, he would end up blaming himself. "Seriously," he said when Phil threw insults at the demon. "Just go home."

"You go home, Tom. We can handle this," Torin muttered.

"What are you even arguing about?"

"I was on my way to the pub. I thought it closed at one in the morning," the demon said, pressing tight fists to his sides. "But these two won't let me go on."

"We close two hours earlier on a Sunday, but we open at eleven tomorrow morning, so feel free to come for a drink then." Tom spoke to him as if he spoke to any other human, which didn't sit well with Phil.

"Fucking leave it Tom!" he spat, stepping towards the demon.

Tom decided to intervene. He pushed Phil back, who stumbled further than usual in his drunken body. "You have a new-born. Why are you being this reckless?" he hissed.

"Demons have ruined everything!" Phil yelled dramatically, and on the silent road surrounded by fields, his voice travelled far.

"Phil has recently lost his house to gambling. Demons tempted him, so it's their fault," Torin explained.

"You're blaming demons for your gambling problems?" Tom scoffed. "They might tempt people to do mischief, but you're free to make the better choice. Fighting with this demon who has done nothing wrong won't bring your house back. You're drunk and emotional, just go home, both of you."

"Who the fuck are you calling emotional?" Phil slurred.

Here we go, Tom thought. "Anger is an emotion."

"You know what? I've never liked you!"

Tom had heard it all before. Nobody ever liked him when they were drunk and being disciplined. "Just leave. You don't want this."

"You're really starting to piss me off O'Connell."

Tom glanced at the demon, who stubbornly stood his ground. "Now would be a good time to call it a night too," he said, but the demon refused to budge. Tom sighed heavily. "Guys, it's a Sunday night, don't you have-" The air left his lungs when Phil punched him in the chest. Tom winced and fell back against the bin.

Torin tried to punch the demon who was slick and ducked. The demon grabbed Torin's arm and bent it around his back until his shoulder cracked. He cried out and Phil turned to help, but Tom grabbed his ankle and he faceplanted a muddy puddle. While he was down, Tom grabbed Torin and pushed him away from the demon, who was too fired-up to stop now.

Tom was his next target, but he had grown up in a pub where fights were nightly entertainment. He blocked the punch- twisting and turning until the demon was tied up in his own limbs. Then tom kick him back. "I don't want to fight you. Leave while nobody is seriously injured!" he warned.

The demon's dark eyes flicked behind him, and Tom felt a blunt force in the back of his head. He collapsed to his knees with a searing pain dotting his vision. Torin and Phil stepped around him to get to the demon. Tom scrunched his eyes shut, begging for an angel to step in and intervene.

He nearly voiced a thank you when he heard a thud of someone landing behind him. As he looked up, another demon loomed over him. For the second time that weekend, Tom thought to himself, I don't want to die this way! The demon with the hood covering his face, but not enough to hide his scar, turned away from Tom to protect the other demon.

The soul stripper, Tom thought with relief and forced himself to his feet when his head stopped throbbing.

The soul stripper held Phil in a headlock and kept the other demon at bay with his other arm. Tom tackled Torin who eventually gave up trying to elbow him when Tom squeezed his injured shoulder. He dragged Torin down the road, away from the fight and towards the village. "I'm going to let you go now. If you hurt me or try to fight these demons again, you'll be barred for life from Glass Horns. Understand?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Torin nodded against him, so Tom let go and shoved him towards the village. Torin turned to see the fate of Phil. The soul stripper was too busy keeping the other demon back to release him. Tom hurried over. The demon understood what he wanted and shoved Phil into him. Tom dragged Phil away, ignoring his screaming abuse. "Leave, now. You're both banned from the pub until I say otherwise." He would have said for the rest of the season, though his mum would certainly say longer when he tells her what happened.

They both left, muttering under their breaths. Tom didn't bother to listen; he was just glad that they were out of his sight. The soul stripper was now shadowing over the other demon. His hood wasn't drooping over half of his face, but Tom still couldn't get a good look at him because of the dark road.

"I know you," the younger demon said, "You're-"

"Shut up and get out of here," the soul stripper growled. "Before the angels come."

"No but . . . I do know you. You're Ezrakhell," the demon continued. "Yeah, I've heard about you. Why are you back here?"

The soul stripper pulled his hood back down to cover his face. "Say my full name in front of a human again and you'll have some real trouble to deal with."

They both stared towards Tom who just stood there. For whatever reason, he was lingering to listen. The younger demon left quickly, but the soul stripper still stared in his direction. "I won't repeat your name, don't worry," Tom reassured. "I know it can be used to summon you." The demon still didn't move, so Tom edged around him. "Want a pint? I need one after that."

The demon's head turned to followed him towards the pub. "No," he mumbled, but he still didn't leave. "Contract your promise."

Tom stopped edging backwards. "What?"

"Make a contract. Your word is not good enough."

"I'm not making a contract with you."

"Yes, you are. You're not leaving until you do." Ezrakhell ordered.

Tom felt uneasy from his tone. "Look, I promise I won't-"

The demon suddenly snatched Tom's left hand and forced him closer. He pressed Tom's knuckles to his neck. "Contract your promise," he demanded.

Tom tried to pull away, but the demon was too strong. Levelling his height, and standing close, he could still barely see the tattoo outline on his neck. He couldn't see his expression and decided that was for the best. A demon's glare had been rumoured to give people horrific nightmares.

"Fine," he muttered when he couldn't get out of his grip. The demon's freezing skin numbed the back of his fingers. "I-" he pursed his lips. A demon contract was a big deal. If Tom broke it, Ezrakhell could decide to take his entire soul when he dies, not just the bad parts. He didn't plan on breaking any promises with a demon, and he didn't plan on dying anytime soon. Still, he hesitated and tried to yank his hand away until the grip around his wrist started to hurt.

"Do it!" the demon snapped.

Tom reluctantly said, "I promise that I'll never share your full name with another human."

Satisfied, Ezrakhell pushed Tom's knuckles into his demon mark until Tom's ring finger started burning. Tom yanked his hand back, staring alarmingly at the barbed wire glowing around it. He rubbed it with a frown, though he understood the demons fear. Being summoned by anyone, anywhere, at any time, sounded like an introvert's nightmare. Most demons preferred to be by themselves.

Ezrakhell then turned away from him, looking up at the sky. "Wait!" Tom said quickly, wanting to make the situation less heavy. "Is there not a nickname I can call you? Something short or-" The demon left. Tom looked around until his mind registered that he stood alone. Alright then.

He returned to the pub. His parents were stacking chairs on top of tables for their monthly carpet clean. When they saw him covered in bruises and mud, his mother slowly put down the stool. "What the hell happened to you?"

Tom scratched at the drying mud on his jacket. "Phil and Torin, that's what happened." He slumped on the stool, rubbing his ring finger. The demon mark would only be visible if he was within a metre of the demon, thankfully. He didn't want to have to explain that to his parents.

"Did they fight you?" his dad asked, moving Tom's head back and forth. The bruise on his cheek was from the night before.

"They were about to fight a demon. But I stepped in, and they fought me as well as the demon."

"The soul stripper?"

"No, but he stepped in too, and it was resolved. I told Torin and Phil that they're banned."

"For life, they're banned for life," Moira confirmed. "Did any angels come?"

"No. I was relieved when E-" Tom cleared his throat. "When the soul stripper landed. Imagine that?" He clenched and unclenched his left hand.

"Relieved to see a demon," his dad scoffed. "This village is going mad."

Tom decided not to have a drink; his head hurt enough already. He showered and collapsed into bed, rubbing his finger, and thinking about how foolish he had been to make a contract with a demon. He wouldn't break the promise even if he hadn't made a contract. The lack of trust in humans was sad, especially since Tom had been openly okay with demons.

Still, he understood Ezrakhell's stress and wondered if he would see him again tomorrow. Part of him hoped that he would now stay away. Part of him wondered if they would finally have a demon regular. He had always wanted to ask them about life, but they never stuck around for long enough.