Page 33 of Wicked Flavors

Once safely inside her apartment, Gwendolyn removed her shoes, and dropped her phone and her wallet onto her kitchen counter. She pivoted on her heel with the intention of sitting at her kitchen table with the scroll case, and that was when she saw it.

Sitting in the middle of her kitchen table was the unfinished doll, the same one that she had deliberately left at the antique store.

Gwendolyn had desperately hoped that if she abandoned it, it would count as a sign that she did not want to be a warlock. Especially not for Ambrosius. Naturally, that was foolish of her. She’d seen the movies. Haunted dolls usually had a way of coming back, and this one was still unfinished. The doll was still in the same half dressed state Gwendolyn had left her in when she stuffed the doll into the paper bag earlier that day. The two pieces Gwendolyn had sewn were piled next to her, almost as if the doll was begging Gwendolyn to dress her properly.

As much as Gwendolyn adored dolls, she suddenly hated this one. Ambrosius said it represented their contract—a shameful reminder of how Gwendolyn’s fixation had been used against her. Before she could think better of it, Gwendolyn snatched the doll from the kitchen table and dashed towards her balcony. She hurriedly unlocked the glass door, slid it open, and chucked the doll over the edge of the balcony.

When she heard the doll clatter onto the hard cement below, Gwendolyn counted it as a small blessing and a temporary solution.

That will only buy me some time. I know it’s going to come back,she thought as she found her way back to her kitchen table.

With some apprehension, Gwendolyn picked up the scroll case. It was warm in her hand, like an electric current pulsed beneath the brassy exterior. Steeling herself, Gwendolyn pulled on the chain and began to read the job responsibilities.

A lot of them were arbitrary and preposterous things that made little sense to Gwendolyn. The job requirements with her current employer were somehow less ridiculous than this. Granted, this one was less about dress code and more about being available to Ambrosius’ every whim at a moment’s notice.

Gwendolyn rolled her eyes at that. Naturally, that arrogant prick would want her at his beck and call. As she read more, it was becoming increasingly obvious that most of the job details were pretty corporate sounding, despite the odd demands. The job requirements were less important than what she was really looking for.

What Gwendolyn needed were clues, and for once, the universe answered. Beneath one of the job requirements—something about being Ambrosius’ eyes, oddly enough—was a note about power. Or the implication that a warlock would be given power by the demon, though it didn’t exactly explain what ‘power’ meant.

She wondered if this was similar to what she had seen in old werewolf movies. An unsuspecting man was bitten by a werewolf and gained some of the creature’s abilities before eventually succumbing to the curse. Did that mean she would eventually also become a demon? How would that even work?

While the thought was still fresh in her head, Gwendolyn grabbed her cell phone and started writing.Gwendolyn noted the bit about sharing of power and anything else she thought could be useful, all the while cussing out Ambrosius in her mind.

She was momentarily taken aback as the job requirements devolved into legal jargon that went completely over her head. Gwendolyn would have to search the internet for at least half of those terms—

Wait! The internet!

Creative solutions were always just a thought away, and Gwendolyn admonished herself for not thinking of it sooner. She wedged the scroll underneath her phone and opened a search engine, typing the word ‘demon’. She made sure to add other search terms as well, as the suggestion bar was already auto-filling with popular topics.

Last I checked, I’m pretty fucking sure I’m not in an anime. But knowing my life…

Luckily, Gwendolyn had more to work with thanks to Ambrosius’ mouth. He had already ruled out Christianity as a potential origin, which made it a lot easier to sort through the results. She didn’t know what to make of all the romance novels that came up, and thinking about romance made her want to throw up. Wet dreams were out of her control, but falling in love very much was.

At least, I think…

It had been a long time since Gwendolyn had entertained romantic love. So long that Gwendolyn shoved the thought out of her mind and got up to make herself a late lunch. Her stomach had finally leveled out enough for her to even contemplate shoving a microwaved chicken sandwich into her mouth.

Gwendolyn ate the sandwich in under five minutes, felt her stomach greedily open wide. It stung her tongue—still sensitive from where she had burned it the day before—but it was the most delicious thing she had eatenin what felt like ages. She rinsed her hands, dried them on the back of her knees, and began her search anew.

By the time the first firework went off, the afternoon had burned away into nothing. It seemed fitting, as Gwendolyn’s search resulted in much of the same. More anime, more forums asking about anime or Satan, but nothing about any three eyed demons. Was she not searching for the right thing?

As the afternoon bled into night, and the fireworks grew louder, Gwendolyn became frantic. She read through more of the scroll—and by read, she really meant skimmed—until she reached the end of the job requirements. One line read like a devastating blow to her face.

All job requirements before this one are null and void.

Gwendolyn read that line three more times before she continued.

The only requirement that the Warlock must do is finish the doll.

*Terms subject to change upon reevaluation.

“You motherfucker,” Gwendolyn growled between her teeth.

She was about to chuck the scroll case over her balcony when something caught her eye. Dark ink was bleeding from the words she had previously read. Gwendolyn watched as it pooled below, slowly revealing cursive being written in real time.

Don’t be upset, Gwendolyn.

It’s just business.

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