For the Sake of a Dog

Warlock is is his late twenties, when he finds the demon.

His flatmates idiot dog has ran off and he’s out on the hunt with the rest of them, because he does care about the stupid mutt even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He isn’t expecting to find a demon, pinned down in the abandoned shed on the moor.

The creature stops pulling at its cuffs as they spy him standing by the broken door. “Bugger,” they hiss, their sheet-black wings tugging against the freshly lain boards they’re nailed to, “Uh, hey there. Don’t suppose you’re here to help me out of this?”

Warlock clears his throat, “Have you seen a dog?”