"Welcome to the Brothel of Shadows, where demons come."
I stepped forward into the dim red glow of the salacious manor, meeting the old man who greeted me. He wore a red robe that reached the floor, and he stared at me from behind sunglasses with a firm, unflinching gaze.
"You may call me 'the Curate'," said the man. "I take it you have met my brother, the Minister?"
I nodded.
"This place is quite similar to his Cathedral of Shadows," explained the Curate, "but instead of summoning or fusing demons, this place deals with more indecent subject matters in regards to demons. But, I'm sure you already knew that."
I looked around the empty foyer, and saw no sign of any demons, or patrons for that matter. "So, what sort of selection do you have?"
"All manner of demons, beasts, monsters, angels, and deities," replied the Curate. "If it exists in the sea of unconsciousness or anywhere across the universes, I can summon it here, binding it to perform whatever obscene bidding you like. Follow me, and I shall show you."
The Curate took me up a flight of stairs, and we entered into a large, well-furnished room, bathed in a dull crimson light. In the center of the room was a sigil of a hexagram, and before it was a podium with a large tome set upon it.
"Have a look," declared the Curate as he waved his hand over the book. The pages of the tome began to turn on its own, before finally settling on a page. "This is my Compendium, a chronicle of all mythical entities that I can summon for you."
"What's the fee?" I asked.
"It was covered in the door charge," answered the Curate.
He pointed to a picture of an angelic woman with white wings. "Now, allow me to demonstrate. This one is a popular choice. She's quite submissive, and will let you do anything you'd like. Behold."
The Curate raised his hand and made a sign. In a flash of lightning-like light, a figure appeared inside the hexagram. Before me floated a slender woman with pale skin and cascading blonde hair. She was clad in thin black strips of leather along with a black blindfold marked with an eye, and a chain dangled from her neck. Fluffy white wings enshrined her delicate form.
"I am an Angel," announced the angelic woman. "I am a servant of God, but today, I am yours."
The Curate raised his hand once more, and the angel disappeared in a violet flash.
"That is but one demon I can call upon for you," he said. "However, feel free to call upon any demon you like for their services."
I scanned through the rest of the pages until I found what I was looking for: