The Scumbags Guide to Enslaving Demon's

The lobby held primed.

Mason’s ultimatum had been simple: Not slavery. Not contracts. Choice.

Elena beat Austin to speech, snuffing out his objection before teeth could meet tongue. She was leather tougher than burgers and twice as persuasive, gaze smoldering dark like the barrel of a gun with one round left. "Then you don’ trust yourself." Brimstone edged her voice. "If you want people behind you, they choose you. Now. No excuses. Unsigned."

The anchor down in his ribs growled hungry and predatory, scraping up his throat for names and initials and paperwork’s thorough slaughter. Signing Mason and Harold up would be paperwork, sure. Contracts would bind their manpower into expendable quantities, fortifications for the lobby and leave Elena free to piecework the hell out of whatever humans they were tasked with protecting next.

Austin couldn’t let that happen. People weren’t assets. He thought of Gideon’s absolved expression, thought of Seven stuttering through apology after apology. Promised himself he wouldn’t rob them of choice by deciding what was best. Voting tasted like bloodlust and cheap victory and he swallowed around the threat of both pooling in his throat.

"How do we vote?" Someone asked. One of the assembled body.

Gideon had elected himself wordlessly already, having agreed with Austin’s sentiment by simply watching the playback then listening to Mason articulate it. Offered, tone drily uninterested "Secret. So no one fears reprisal."

Elena sliced a strip of canvas in half, marking tokens then tearing them. Blackened edges differentiated green from red choices: yes or no. "Everyone gets one token." Elena displayed them impartially between fingers. "Green’s for yes, red’s for no. Drop it in the tin. No names. We count ’em here with witnesses present. If it’ wins, you lead until someone else is chosen. If it loses you can try again or volunteer yourselves." She leveled him with plain regard. "You agree to my terms or leave."

The anchor screamed silently in his chest. Part of him was coded on control and sense of ownership, but leaving felt instinctually unjust. Leading without consent though... That wasn’t leading at all. Violence by other means.

"Conditions." Austin clarified. "Lay them out."

Elena rattled them off like showroom. "One: No human is to be placed under contract without explicit consent and a recording of said consent. Two: Any demon compelled to aid us will be given probationary period within their contract and may petition release after a time agreed upon by consensus. Three: Council of up to ten members elected by the people at large maintains oversight—in terms of access to all evidence and proposals—and may exercise veto power on non-combat punitive measures. Four: Austin maintains tactical command but will answer to council during down time."

Murmurs sounded but nobody openly defied her. Harold wiped a swollen cheek before shaking his head to Mason. Then back to Elena. Green and red tokens scattered on crate wood.

Mason spoke clearly despite himself. Words had never come easy to him but Austin wasn’t about to concede that fact in argument. "If they vote for you," Mason began, voice low and heavy, "Then I’ll stay. Fight beside you. But I won’ sign nothing that chains me down. Hell if I’ma own someone."

He kept eye contact when it met Austin’s. Stared straight. It was hard. Austin could respect that.

Seven rustled at his shoulder, gaze lingering on Elena like he was still debating her proposal. Had healed cleanly into violet-ribboned scar tissue making Seven’s mechanical nature obvious and true. Limbs contorted to something far more natural, fingers curling around green token before setting it inside the tin with decidedly human motions.

Quiet as servo-whir Austin heard Seven say, "Vote is for cooperation with council oversight. Stand watch to the south with me."

Austin swallowed. Seven hadn’t given him answers. Promises.

He felt the anchor grind against his ribs like a knife but there were bodies keeping him anchored now, faces familiar and unfamiliar. Gideon and the apprentice tech named Tamsin and a grandmother with needle trails tattooed into her wrist who had met his eyes all vote. Half the room had.

He raised both hands. "I will not sign a human without recorded consent. I will not make demon contracts available for council inspection." Hope hitched in his throat, was knocked out with, "And I will answer to the council’ recommendations on non-combat punishments. I will abide by consensus on issues that don’t require immediate action."

System: [INFO: You organizing people into a hierarchy will provide group stability. WARNING: Humans may learn you have a demon in your employ.]

Austin tucked System’s warning away into the hollow of his ribs. Disclosure was inevitible. Making yourself legible to an authority would come with sacrifice— but Elena was already gathering tokens to tally votes so he kept quiet.

Gideon emptied an overturned crate into the center of the circle, hollowing it out something cage-like with both hands. Elena gathered tokens greedily like she was taking the relay room hostage over internal politics.

Balloting was cruel. Broken. Groups of bodies shuffled forward to Elena’s desk begrudgingly trading her their votes one at a time: A pair of teenage boys who vandalized neighborhood curbs when they were high and hungry, Tamsin whose fingernails still had grease under them despite her best efforts.

Half of them halftested their thumbs like the skin would bruise if they actually meant to follow through. The others swallowed thickly before scraping their choice against wood.

Noise rolled up from street level beyond their boarded windows like cannon fire masked by drumming. Votes could still swing yes. They had time.

Ballots filled slowly.

Not everyone agreed to vote. Some walked out before casting an opinion. Ballots didn’t fill quickly.

Elena capped the tin when the last voter deposited their token then set it down on crate wood with finality. "We count here." She stated matter-of-factly. "Out loud. Let’s just be honest about it."

The makeshift semicircle coalesced around her of its own volition. Elena flipped the can upside down, letting gravity work the kind of magic humans couldn’t understand and the tokens clattered from metal can into her waiting palm. Drops from her fingers one by goddamned one into the crate, blues easier to tally than she could keep count.

Finished tallying Elena drew quick breath when there were more greens than reds. Not unanimously but enough for a majority that she nodded once, slit her gaze sharp against the dust in front of her.

Gideon stepped forward once she did. Rough-work hands thumping solidly against Austin’s forearm. "You earned it." The words were husky but something.about hope bundled into beer gut real, if not clumsily delivered.

He swallowed. Let the knot loosen in his chest. Hope wasn’t what he was feeling, exactly. There was nothing freeing about knowing leadership had stakes now.

It was... valuable.

Weighted.

Important.

Just responsible in how you wielded it.

The anchor loosened. Didn’t leave, exactly. Just unclenched jaw-like, welcomed him back to his body. Tomorrow it would resurface. Morning after. Multiplying.

But for now.

They’d voted and they’d hold each other to that.

"We council will convene in two hours," Elena stated briskly. "Anonymous ballot until nominations have been posted. Maximum of ten council seats." She tucked chin over the cane of discarded tokens, gaze souring. "Centralizing power—leaves you open. We take shifts watching our own backs."

Mason locked eyes with Harold nodded once. Solid. Defiance didn’t flavor his tone. Harold hadn’t been bartered away into whatever slavery they had lying in wait for him next. He was fighting because he wanted to fight.

Seven shifted at Austin’s side but stayed close. Weighted single plated hand onto his shoulder with meaning. "Understood. Will organize southern watches. Act in concord with council should civilian safety become compromised."

"Good." Elena didn’t smile but there was pride lined in her voice all the same. "We move fast. Show Malrec what choice looks like. Someone’s gotta stand in front of him." She tossed a green token up into air by way of example. "And a city block full of voters is harder to intimidate."

Train whistled somewhere in the distance beyond boarded windows. Louder this time. Panic sounded behind them first and then another train sounded two blocks over.

Volunteers for watching walls congregated separate from those checking in at armory or picking up bandages. Groups broke away now, intentional and with purpose. Voting had consequences and they would answer the fallout tomorrow.

For now Austin just watched at faces all around him: hope tangled up in desperation and trust heavy as dusk settled across his shoulders. "Provisional." Elena clarified grimly. "Until we vote you’re irrelevant."

The tin got dumped and flipped inside out two more times before consensus was met everyone had spoken. Thorough in the dust-speckled dark. Votes trickled metal can into canvas strip to hollowed crate for counting. People won. By five votes.

Too close comfort but a win. Fuck if it felt easy.

The lobby breathed collectively, releasing slow. Soundtracked by cats dying outside.

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