Three Sentence Ficathon

Rapunzel knows summoning demons is a terrible idea -- she's not stupid. She's read books, which invariably end with morals about goodness triumphing over evil and demons dragging the defeated warlocks away to burn in hell for an eternity of torture; she's even heard some firsthand accounts about that from the witch during her infrequent visits.

It's just that Rapunzel's bored. So bored. There's nothing to do in her godforsaken tower that she hasn't done already a dozen times over. She's memorized every book she owns cover to cover; she's embroidered hundreds of handkerchiefs and then unpicked the threads to stitch them again. The view out of her single window shows the forest's leaves have begun to turn the colors of autumn -- Rapunzel can't allow herself to look too often for fear she'll go mad with wanting everything she can't reach.

Rapunzel has a recurring nightmare that she died and, instead of going to heaven, the witch binds Rapunzel's soul to the tower stones and nothing changes except that Rapunzel's ghost can't touch anything so she can't even embroider anymore.

Maybe being dragged off to hell wouldn't be so bad. At least she would be going somewhere new, and hell would certainly be different from her current prison. She might even meet new people.

Demon summoning doesn't require anything except the skill to draw a perfect circle and the willingness to bleed enough to close it. (Well, it also requires risking your immortal soul but that's maybe more of a pro than a con, here.)

When that first demon asks her what her bidding is, Rapunzel blinks away the black spots in her vision from the blood loss and demands, "Get me out of this tower."

The demon nods. Moments later, a voice she's never heard before calls from outside, "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!"