Write a short story using one of these words 10 times and make it make sense.

Our Demons: I once tried to sell my soul to the Devil, but he didn't want it, said they were not high in demand or something. So, I am not good enough for the worst entity that ever existed, but my friend, Jared, was, the Devil took his soul gladly. This is how it happened. You see, when you perform the ritual, you typically wear a ceremonial loincloth and tattoo the runes in it, as well as yourself. There is a bonfire and gibberish involved as well. When I had finished with the ritual, I simply felt awkward, standing around in my loincloth. But when Jared had done so the fire basically exploded around him and the instant after, the fire died back down. The only sign that the blaze occurred was the fact that his loincloth had been consumed by it. "What does that mean?" I find myself asking. He does not answer. "Well, who needs this anyway!" I remove my own loincloth and toss it into the fire, but am surprised when it does not burn. It is at this point that Jared snaps out of his trance. "You cannot burn your ceremonial loincloth, it hasn't been accepted yet." He then casually picks the loincloth out of the fire and holds it out for me. Something in his eyes tells me everything has changed, but at the time, I take it to be residual fear from the explosion in the fire. I give him a blanket and we head back to our homes. Two months pass, the event becomes nothing more than a hazy dream, or nightmare. Whatever the case, Jared changed dramatically, and yet I was the only one who wasn't affected. At school people avoided him at all costs, but the only physical difference was shifty eyes and the raspy voice one gets during a cold. He constantly talked about my loincloth. On several occasions I tried to throw it away only to have him show up and return it. So, maybe he was getting weird, but no matter, it was nothing a good camping trip couldn't fix. "You want me to come camping? With him?" This was the usual reply, but I eventually found two others willing to go. It was only for the weekend and I was paying for all the expenses. Finally I invited Jared, "We're going camping this weekend and I would really appreciate it if you came." Short, simple and to the point. "Everything has changed." "Yes, so I was hoping a night out in the fresh air could set things straight. I just" he cuts me off with a wave of his arm. "Bring your ceremonial loincloth." He abruptly turns about and walks away. The rest of the week is consumed with my planning the event, so fortunately I am spared the need to think about what he has said. I buy more food than we could ever need, just in case, and games and the tent of course. Each person has to bring his own sleeping bag and his own guns or bows if they plan to hunt at all. Not to my surprise, Jared brought nothing but the pants and shirt he happened to be wearing that day. After my insisting he bring a sleeping bag, he grabbed a blanket and jumped into my truck, not attempting to hide his frustration. Also not surprising, Jared did not help put up the tent, but neither did Maxwell, one of the other boys that came along, however Thomas did. It was already dark by the time the tent was up, so Max built a fire out of newspaper and a few logs, which were already by the pit. "I'm going to go get more wood!" I tell everyone as I jog off into the brush. On my return I saw what very well is the most frightening thing I ever witnessed, far surpassing the ritual from months before. The first thing I notice is Thomas floating in the air, not moving, but stuck in a contorted position, Maxwell was the same. But in the middle of the fire pit stood Jared, all his clothes and hair burned away, but oddly enough he wore the loincloth he had worn at the ritual. His head snapped up to stare right at me. "This must be the most terrifying thing you've ever seen." That was not his voice. I am unable to respond "It would be for me as well if I had not met Damnation himself." His lips then curl into a wicked smile and he shouts gibberish in the most ungodly voice, "Watago Baya Kithiegat Shooun Aundeia Guo…" and so on. As he continued his otherworldly chant, the flames rose, engulfing his entire figure and continuing to rise after that. The flames took the form of a twelve-foot tall creature. The fiery demon then looked straight into my eyes, only for the briefest of moments. But in those eyes was a lust for power and regret. The fire died down almost in an instant, and in the middle of the fire pit, amid red coals and white ash laid a loincloth. I watched, for as long as was needed, as it burned in the fire until no evidence of it remained.