"I don't know why I summoned you, actually. Sorry. I guess because I'm lonely and tired, but don't want to sleep yet. A friend told me about some songs, and they seemed to fit. So I tried that ritual again, and here you are, now. Sorry."
The demon's dozen eyes blinked, a body wave of closed and opened obsidian sockets. It squatted, gargoylesque, on the foot board.
"I've never seen one of you before, so close. I don't really. I don't know what. What do I do now?"
The demon blinked again. It whispered, "Make a wish."
"I want to know who scared Mark off, yesterday." He said.
"What is the payment?"
"Oh, right." With a snip he fed a lock of his hair into the candle flame.
"More." The demon uncurled a black tentacle, like a burned octopus arm, it crinkled as it moved. Another snip and another lock of hair was gone.
"Usually you . . . your kind don't come into the light."
The demon's chest opened, a gaping body smile with oily gums, no teeth, a dozen still, wormy tongues. "Others, eh?"
He nodded, gulped quietly.
The demon nodded, and vanished.