There is a certain perfection in knowing you're completely screwed.
May held on as long as she could, as the glowing panels of her radio began to spark and ignite. She threw out a hand as the shell of the old radio parted, and something exploded from the radio waves into her world.
Long had she sought the secrets in the numbers, and as she completed the last pattern, she made out a name. A strange name compiled from numbers shared around the world since the Cold War, repeated enough times and in all the known languages until his return was certain.
May threw salt across the floor. It cascaded across the devil trap she had carefully laid around the radio, and as the windows in the mobile home exploded she felt the prickling sting of a thousand shards of glass and salt penetrating her flesh. "Damn!" she had time to exclaim before the room fell silent. She blinked and looked around under her arm before peering up at the figure now standing in the center of the circle.
Testing his grip and craning his head, a swarthy man dressed in a slightly dated black suit with a red tie and an obsidian tie pin looked her over, his eyes resting down from their usual red—RED! she realized!—to an almost auburn-settlesand. He would have been attractive if he weren't the most dangerous thing she'd ever seen.
"Hello, love," he said quietly. "Allow me to express my confusion. I started this journey when the Nazis were experimenting with spiritualism, and now here I am, even though they lost the damn war." He stepped forward, pensively, then stopped at the edge of the circle. "Ah. Right, then. You're a hunter."
She stepped forward and raised a silver spike she was carrying. "That's right, asshole, and I know what you are!" Her voice dripped with accusation, but the middle-aged man shook his head and lifted a finger, which he wagged teasing in front of her. "Don't patronize me! I don't want any of your deals!"
"Oh," the demon replied, "well, that's good, because—" he dropped his hand, and a beam from the mobile home ripped loose and stabbed through the floor, piercing her and the circle. She gasped in surprise before life left her as he strode out the door, "—I don't intend to make any."