(Continued from the previous chapter Devil May Care, Chapter 4 of the Devil series)

This is a fucking first.

Eric stares down in horror at what consumerism has wrought.

A fucking Barbie Ouija board.

He is invisible to the gaggle of pre-teen girls, his essence a wisp, a breath hanging in the air. These metal-mouthed, acne-ridden girls inadvertently summoned him with a God damn Ouija board.

Did no one know how dangerous these things were?

“Does James like me?” One girl in a Disney Princess onesie asks.

If Eric was in corporeal form, he would have rolled his eyes.

Willing a smoky finger down to the shockingly bubble gum pink planchette on the board, he moves it towards TOTALLY NO.

Disney Princess onesie scowls and actually says “What the hell do you know?”

What. The fuck?

It had been a very long time since Eric had made an appearance at a slumber party, and clearly children have grown more sassy and out of control.

When the Ouija board had become a sensation in the 20th century, he would often be compelled to appear when one was in use in his vicinity. Eric eventually grew to resist the compulsion, but he would show up just to entertain himself. It took no effort at all to flicker the lights, release a blast of cold air, and make the planchette spin like a cyclone on the board, effectively causing the users to lose their ever loving minds.

Sweet, sweet mirth.

After a while, the ruse lost its appeal, as did making appearances at seances, which were the most boring fucking things on the planet. The Fox Sisters had been hot as hell though, and whew… what they liked in bed…

“Will my parents actually get divorced?” Another girl, this one wearing plaid bottoms and a My Little Pony shirt, asks the spirit of the Barbie board.

Eric coaxes the planchette to TOTALLY YES.

The girl starts to sniffle, and Eric tries so very hard not to laugh. It’s true though. As they sit here partaking of this stupid fucking rite of passage, her parents were a floor below, arguing and spitting hateful things at each other.

“Hey, it’s okay,” a third girl says, wearing black pajamas with a Marilyn Manson t-shirt. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a game. It’s probably Carrie moving it.”

“What the hell, Jess?” Carrie, the Disney Princess onesie girl, squawks. “It’s not me!”

The fourth and final girl in this little party, wearing more of the same adolescent sleepwear, asks the board, “Who will I lose my virginity to?”

Eric’s ghostly finger jerks away from the planchette quick as a flash. No fuckin’ way he was touching that one.

The girl pouts when the thing doesn’t move, and thankfully they move on after that.

“Ooooh, what about…” Disney Princess onesie - Carrie - begins. “ … why is Ms. Krane such a bitch?”

Jesus, don’t these kids have something better to worry about?

“Carrie, she’s a bitch because...

The Devil's Own, Chapter 5