Summer camp

Michael had never been a fan of going to summer camp, and every year he tried to convince his parents that there were better things he could be doing with that week, or that he was getting too old, or that they should be saving their money. But every year, without fail, he was sent to Camp Chinawuakee with a frown on his face and a hunch in his back, and every year he came home hoping to never have to return.

There was something different in the air this year, however, as he got off the bus. He couldn't quite say what it was, and no one else on his bus seemed to notice, but there was a... thickness to it that he did not recall. But perhaps they could not tell it was there because he was the only one who had been there so many years running. Chinawuakee wasn't exactly a popular camp, and most parents sent their kids around to different places every summer so that they could get new experiences. They weren't like Michael's parents, consistently sending him to the same place year after year. But then again, maybe he was just starting to lose it after doing this so many times.

The day was a mad rush of introductions and camp set up, learning the rules, meeting their bunkmates, and eating their first crappy camp meal. Michael lay in his bed at the end of the day, staring at the cloth "roof" above his head, unable to sleep thanks to the obnoxious snoring of all three of his bunkmates. He had had bad ones before, but this was excessive. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able sleep at all this week.

That was when he heard a strange shuffling echo through the camp, and thickness he had felt in the air as he got off the bus grew thicker. He sat upright, trying to listen and hear where the noise was coming from, but it came from all around. In every direction he heard the strange shuffling. He poked his head out of the tent, barely able to see in the pitch blackness of the night, but he could see a strange outline of orange that surrounded the entire area. He tried to focus on it, to see the shape or any kind of details, and he watched in horror as the outline become more solid, with harsh scales and long claws, and the camp was abruptly in the arms of a massive, hideous creature.

Michael could only describe what he saw as a demon. Its eyes scanned over the camp, hunger apparent within them, and a wicked grin on its face. It didn't seem to notice Michael's head poking out of the tent, or if it did it chose to ignore him, because Michael was frozen in fear and could not move. He watched the demon open its massive jaw, could see the rows of razor sharp teeth within its mouth, and then there was gas pouring out of it and over the camp.

Ramisiel picked Michael up off of the camp floor on one of his claws, smiling down at the boy who had so drastically changed. He had taken in the most of Ramisiel's mind control gas that night three days prior, and the stubborn, hateful boy was little more than the demon's pet now. Michael informed Ramisiel of how the control was fading on one of the girls in camp - the one Michael had confided he had a crush on - and that if there was anything Ramisiel could do to prevent her from going into his gullet, he would appreciate that. Ramisiel promised he would consider it, but...

He was hungry.