I lead the dazed girl inside, setting her down on my couch, checking the clock. It’s been about 20 minutes, I’ve got some time on my hands. To begin, I simply figure I’ll ask some questions. Easy enough, I suppose.

“Do you remember bullying Heather Pines, in highschool?”

“Yeah, why? That girl was a freak, did you know her?”

“You could say that. Do you have a romantic partner?”

“Nah, I dumped his ass. Too whiney.”

“What’s your lockscreen pin?”

“2825”

“Hand me your phone?”

“Yeah, sure.” She says, eyes totally unfocused. I take her phone, unlock it, and begin scrolling through the gallery, sending anything incriminating such as nudes, or revealing pics to my phone.

20 minutes left. Hm. I don’t have more of that particular potion, and it’d take far too long to make more..

I could draft an arcane contract, I suppose. She’d sign it, no questions asked. Yeah, that’d work. I hand her phone back to her, as I grab a piece of parchment and an ink quill.

“While I write this, go ahead and text me all of your taboo interests and fantasies, alongside anything that could get you in trouble with your university.”

“Sure.”

Amused by the nonchalant nature of agreeing to turn over all her dirty secrets, I begin drafting up a contract, giving me all sorts of trigger words, and control over Camilla. These sorts of arcane agreements require some sort of actual exchange, in order for them to be binding, so I offer food, board, and general hospitality in exchange.

I retrieve a small obsidian blade, a souvenir from my celebratory trip to hawaii, after graduation. I hear my phone buzz, and I presume Camilla is done typing. I call over to her, leading her to the piece of parchment.

“If you wouldn’t mind reading over this, would you?”

“Not at all.”

Of course, she finishes it quite quickly, she always was quite sharp. Speaking of sharp, I present the obsidian blade to Camilla, asking her to let a drop of blood fall on the parchment, as a signature to the contract. She swiftly complies, and the scroll glows an amber hue, before rolling up and binding shut with a seemingly impenetrable wax seal. I didn’t test it, of course, but that’s just simply the standard for what happens. Not my first time.

As I begin to stash the scroll amongst other important documents, I hear a crashing noise, so I set the parchment down, to go investigate. As I had suspected, the potion had worn off, I had made her sign just in the knick of time.

“WHERE THE FUCK AM I???”