Chapter 2 #7
My head raised in defeat and I eyed the sewing kit next to my bed.
Such wicked, evil thoughts poisoned my sanity as I reached for it without hesitation.
I dumped numerous spools of thread, needles, and the large sewing shears down onto my lap.
The reflective tool entranced me as I picked it up, determined to see my plan through.
“I’ll make sure everyone knows it was all your fault,” I whispered aloud.
“Every single one of yours.” I snatched a pen and the old book, and hurriedly flipped it open without thought.
“It was all their fault,” I stated while writing the sentence with hate-filled tears pouring from my eyes.
“It was all their fault!” With a loud groan, I stabbed the book with the pin, sending ink across the surface.
“To my so-called friends…” I continued. “I hope you’re happy.
Lavender…Ryder…Token…Montey.” I grimaced.
“And Sybil.” Thunder rolled above as the storm grew extra violent. “I hope you get what you deserve.”
All of you.
And with that lingering thought, I raised the sewing shears, spread the blades, and held it over my wrist.
But something stopped me.
What am I doing? Even if I kill myself, they won’t care. They’ll just keep going, living their lives! They won’t regret it. They won’t blame themselves! Even if I die here right now, they won’t mourn my absence…because I’m nothing to them.
And then it hit me.
“I–I am nothing…” A tear dripped from my face and fell onto the page, smearing the ink.
My body trembled as the harsh truth of my existence weighed on me.
My arms shook and my jaw tightened as I made my choice.
“Fine then…” I sniffled. “Why even try?” I hesitated.
“No…my blood is on their hands.” My eyes fell as the tip of the shears pressed into my flesh, making me bleed.
I winced, keeping the blade steady as blood streamed down my forearm and fell onto the open pages.
My blood spread along the porous surface and the book began to glow.
The words I had written vanished as an elusive text slowly appeared, filling the pages.
I dropped the shears and leaned over, gripping my bleeding arm while staring at the page.
It was filled with odd instructions and phrases, and even a strange foreign language I didn’t recognize.
“What is this?” My fingertip raised the page to see more writing on the next.
“Wait.” I flipped through the book and realized every single page was now filled with the same strange handwriting and sketches of creatures and even tortuous practices.
Some of the images made me sick to even look at.
“I don’t understand.” I couldn’t figure out what any of it meant.
It was all written nonsense and pictures of things and words I’d never seen before.
And the more I flipped through the pages, the darker the content seemed to get. And it frightened me.
What even is this?
I slammed the book shut to see an image scratched into the old leather cover.
It started from the left side and swirled towards the center clockwise, creating an odd symbol.
“Wait, I know what this means.” With a bloodied hand, I reached under my bed and retrieved a small stack of occult books.
I quickly flipped through them, tossing the useless ones aside to find what I was looking for.
“I knew it.” My eyes returned to the strange cover.
“This symbol means rebirth.” My bloodied fingertip gently hovered over the etched design and I felt an odd energy seeping from it.
But…why is it here?
The book vibrated within my grasp before swinging open.
I held my breath as I watched the pages quickly flip through until they stopped, landing on a specific section.
It was filled with instruction-like text and etches of the same swirled symbol from the cover.
Lightning struck outside and ignited the room once more as I noticed a sketch of what appeared to be a demon.
My blood ran cold at the image, depicted with sharp teeth and blacked-out eyes.
Letters were scribbled beneath it, forming a name I’d never heard before.
“Z–eth–i–lone–ous?” Beneath the name was a description of said demon, which I dared read aloud.
“Zethiloneous is the third appointed demon of the divine.” My eyes widened.
Demon?! I–I shouldn’t be reading this. It could be dangerous.
I stared down at the page with both fear and curiosity. Occult-related things, demons, ghosts, they were things that had always intrigued me. My interest in them were partially why Sybil always referred to me as a freak like she did. Why she tormented me.
I gazed down at the page, daring to read more of the written text.
“This triad of demons reside on Earth…and aid humans in their highly sought-after retribution.”
Retribution…as in revenge?
My attention returned to the page and I continued.
“Known for his immense pleasure in fulfilling such tasks, this demon will only present his existence by the blood of those he deems worthy of his devouring justice.” I paused.
“Present his existence…wait, does that mean he deems me worthy?” I stared at my bloodied wrists and felt a kernel of glee over the thought.
Justice, huh? I wonder…
My fingertip grazed the page as my eyes followed, landing on the odd instructions.
“To summon this ancient being of chaos, one must first carve a triangle into one’s flesh with only the intention of what they desire.
This action represents the divine triad of retribution, thus calling the demon forward.
The human is then to use their blood to paint the symbol of their rebirth, moving clockwise until the end reaches the center.
” My gaze returned to the small cut along my skin.
Summoning a demon to help me take back my power and exact revenge on my so-called friends…is this really the right thing to do?
I paused and scoffed.
Why should I give them that kind of grace when they never even considered it for me?
Thunder rolled and I looked back down at the book. “If this is real, and it works, then they deserve every bit of it.”
I clutched the book close, grabbed the sewing shears, and scurried down to the bedroom floor.
I carefully laid the book to my side and held the scissors back to my arm.
“Carve with the intention of what I desire, huh?” My grip adjusted along the tool.
“I desire nothing more than their absolute suffering. Pain more excruciating than the pain they ever inflicted on me, and to hear them beg for my mercy.” A sinister smile stretched across my face as I pressed the shears into my flesh and carved the triangle, biting back my tears.
Blood seeped all along my fingers and hands.
They were so slippery, I nearly dropped the shears as I connected the final side.
“There,” I gasped. Blood dripped from the wound and ran down my arm, dripping onto the bedroom floor.
“Now, to draw the symbol.” I peeked at the page to ensure I did the next step correctly before following the instructions, using my blood to draw the giant symbol while on my hands and knees.
The storm only grew as the wind picked up and the rain pounded against my window.
The walls and floors of my home shook with each thundering boom, and I was nearly blinded by the varying strikes of lightning.
It was as if Mother Nature could sense what I was doing, anxiously anticipating what was about to occur.
My heart raced with a matching anxiety as I read the next step.
“To complete such a request, the summoner must kneel in the center of the symbol and speak the following phrase aloud.” I noticed a tiny scribbled note off to the side of the sentence.
“To ensure no additional bodies be harmed in such a pact, the summoner should speak the names of the accused or suffer the consequences.” I paused.
“I shouldn’t need to specify.” I held the book close and kneeled in the center of the bloody symbol, clearing my throat before reading the phrase aloud.
“I call upon the divine from the pits of hell and their dwellings here on Earth.” The power began to flicker while I continued to read.
“Come to me in my aid and seek such carnal vengeance in my stead. Use my body as a vessel, and carry out your chaos as you see fit to ensure all those who have harmed me will bleed for their sins. Fill my ears with their sorrows, my eyes with their pain, and my stomach with their souls. I kneel before you, with the blood of my intention, and grant you control of my entire being…Zethiloneous.” As the syllables of the demon’s name dripped from my tongue, the entire room fell into absolute darkness.
The temperature dropped almost instantly. The only light gifted to me came from the strikes of the storm outside. “D-did it work?” I stuttered, trembling as my breath fogged around my face.
Squeak.
My head snapped towards the direction of the sound. It was coming from the hall outside my door. “H-hello?” My body shivered. No one answered.
Squeak.
The sound continued, walking in my direction, stopping outside my open doorway and I felt a sudden wave of fear, unlike any I’d ever experienced before.
Lightning struck again, revealing a tall pitch-black shadow standing in my doorway. It morphed as the darkness returned, and with the next strike, I was staring at the embodiment of the demonic sketch from the book.
Oh my—
I opened my mouth to scream, but the demon lunged at me, and his shadow forced its way into my gaping mouth, stretching it so wide I felt the corners of my lips tear.
The darkness of his essence shoved down my throat and into my stomach, seeping through my veins and into my blood.
I gagged and choked on the evil within me, tears flowing from my eyes as I felt the light within my soul snuff out.
The lights in my room flickered uncontrollably as I struggled to take control, but the demon clawed at my organs and flesh, tearing me apart until I was nothing more than a bloodied carcass.
My body fell forward and I felt my consciousness quickly fade away as a strange voice whispered through the void.
“I accept.”