Chapter 3 #2
I wasn’t sure what the social etiquette was on trying to summon a demon in someone else’s house; hell, I wasn’t even sure if I would be able to find all these things in the house, but I would certainly give it a good go.
It’s not like these incantations are actually real.
I darted back downstairs to the kitchen and dropped to my knees in front of one of the many cabinets, undoing all the tidying I’d done before as I pulled out saucepans, woks, and frying pans until I found a bowl.
The instructions had specified silver but the steel salad bowl I found would have to do.
What’s that old adage about running with a pair of scissors?
Whoever came up with that had never felt the uncontainable excitement of trying to summon a demon in the early morning on Halloween.
I stopped in Esme’s room, rifling around before coming across a small tea candle.
“No silver bowl and no black candle.” I chuckled to myself, knowing that my friends would likely be saved from anything evil because of my inability to follow instructions.
I placed the candle, the scissors, and a random pink lighter in the bowl, which currently held a tub of fancy salt, before heading back up to the loft.
My phone buzzed once in my pocket as I placed the bowl on the side table next to the bed.
Ezzy: I wish you were here and I miss you :(
I smiled, locking my phone and moving to put it on the bed when it buzzed again.
Isaac Pooton: Todd hasn’t stip tak abot you
Oh, brilliant, there is nothing more thrilling than the validation of a drunk man. Given the onslaught of drunk texts I seemed to be receiving, I put my phone on airplane mode and turned my attention back to the task at hand.
Step 1.
Draw a circle with salt on the ground, ensuring it is closed. Fill the silver bowl with water and place it at the centre of the circle. Place the black candle beside the bowl and lay three locks of hair in front of you, representing the three granted wishes.
“Okay, easy enough,” I told myself. I got to work, humming ‘I Wonder Why’ as I prepared the ritual circle.
This might not be everyone’s idea of a good time; in fact, I knew most people weren’t willing to risk even taking part in anything occult or macabre on the off chance that it was real, but for me?
I couldn’t think of anything I would rather be doing.
Step 2.
Light the black candle and whisper into the flame.
“Demon of darkness, Prince of Hell
I beckon you forward, with one simple spell.
Through the veil of night, I seek you out,
Dedicated till the end, on my knees devout.”
“If this is real, please don’t be creepy, please don’t be creepy,” I whispered.
“Like Esme said, I deserve a hot demon husband,” I repeated the incantation, stopping occasionally to see if I could sense anything amiss in the house.
But all I could hear reflected back at me was silence, and the gentle hum of party revellers from outside the closed window.
Step 3.
Place each strand of hair into the fire.
Okay, not particularly overjoyed at the idea of cutting my hair, but…I do have split ends, and I’ve been saying I need to go and get a haircut. What’s a couple strands between a human and her demon, eh? I snipped off a particularly frizzy curl and then snipped it into three equal parts.
Step 4.
With your hands hovering above the water, chant the final incantation and summon the demon.
“In the very fibres of my being, exists both want and greed,
It’s three wishes I seek, and three wishes I need.
In pact, we’ll be tethered, all wishes made whole.
In return I offer everything, everything and my soul”
I closed my eyes, repeating the incantation as clearly and loudly as I could.
I wasn’t sure what was going to happen… No, I was sure what was going to happen.
Nothing, nothing at all. But as I spoke, it felt as though the air shifted, and the heat in the room had been dialled all the way up.
It felt like someone had messed with the thermostat and now all the heat was rising to the loft. Thanks very much, science.
I peeked an eye open and saw the candle flickering. Odd. There’s absolutely no draft. I made sure to close the—
One loud bang reverberated through the room, sending a shudder up my spine and my heart careening into my rib cage.
In the flurry of rising panic, my hand dropped into the bowl of water and my leg kicked a gap in my perfectly drawn salt circle.
I whipped my head around from where I was sitting on the floor to find the window I was sure I’d closed, whacking against the frame.
Quincey Sterling, you talk a big game, but you’re a chicken like all the rest. I let out an exasperated sigh and pushed up on my hands until I stood up.
I had spent my whole life around death. My grandfather had explained it to me when I was just about old enough to understand it in plain and certain terms. It was just a part of life.
Something that happened to everyone. And whilst it was sad, it wasn’t anything to fear.
I wasn’t sure why I was startling so fucking easily.
I found horror movies boring and knew that a spooky encounter could be chalked up to coincidence and tricks of the mind nine times out of ten.
I scowled at the open window that had so easily gotten one up on me before looking down at the mess I’d created.
“Well, who would have guessed it, no demon—”
An even louder sound sent my heart into overdrive, and a renewed sense of nervous energy coursed through my veins.
First the window, and now the fucking doorbell.
Making a mental note to clean everything up, I picked up the aluminium bowl, which was now mostly empty, and the half-empty tub of salt, and ran downstairs to fetch my pizza.
There was nothing and I mean nothing quite like a large slice of gooey cheese pizza.
I sat at the kitchen island chomping down bits of bread and tomato as I scrolled on my phone.
For the first ten minutes, I’d let my mind wander off on its own as I tried to convince myself I wasn’t becoming jumpier with age.
But as a few of the sorority girls had stumbled back in through the front door, I had dropped a particularly cheesy slice on the floor before having to throw it in the bin.
I swiped through every social media app on my phone as I sat there, each and every one inundated with Halloween photos.
Despite how drunk everyone seemed, the pictures were almost professional in quality.
With crisp edges and good lighting and everyone with their eyes open.
Deciding not to go to the party on Irvine Avenue had been the correct choice, as stories of sleeping people with ashtrays balanced on their heads and scantily clad women jumping into the pool flooded the stories of the very few people I followed. My exact version of hell.
I shook my head, laughing to myself as another text from Esme buzzed on screen.
Ezzy: QUINCEY
Quincey: ESME
Ezzy: Oh my godddddd. I wish you were here seeing what I am seeing.
Quincey: I’ve seen some photos. It looks as debaucherous as I expected.
Ezzy: You’re SOOOOO cayooooot and weird. Who uses the word deboocherous?
Ezzy: Fisherman getting with a mermaid right now!! He’s got her look, line and sinker.
My phone buzzed again as the photo came into view.
And the groan that escaped my lips was involuntary but so, so valid.
Bitchy mermaid had managed to bag herself a very attractive companion for the evening.
However, I’d seen what that mouth could do, and all I could say was that I was slightly apprehensive about his safety.
Another buzz, another photo, and this time the couple was in a more tangled position than they had been previously.
Ezzy: More like hook, line and sink into her.
Quincey: And the best pun of the night goes to Esme Morgan. Let’s get a round of applause everybody.
Ezzy: I’d like to thank the academy, and my very best friend Quincey Sterling for this award <3 <3
Ezzy: What are you doooooing?
I sent back a photo of me with a pizza held up.
Ezzy: Hawaiian pizza is grossssssss. How are we friends? I’d say save me a slice, but please don’t.
And that was exactly why I liked pineapple on pizza.
Because I never had to worry about sharing.
I never had to give up a piece. I got to keep it all to myself.
Other than the champagne dress I was wearing, I rarely ever had much disposable income to spend.
My loans went on tuition and the money I made at the bar went directly into paying my rent.
I suppose I could have chosen to live at home, but it didn’t seem fair to come and go as I pleased, especially with my grandma being ill.
Ezzy: Isaac says save him a slice. He said he was happy to suffer through the pineapple.
Ezzy: Hot guys here! You could still come out.
Quincey: I’ve got pizza. Pizza loves me. Pizza won’t break my heart. In fact, I’m pretty sure dough in any form is scientifically proven to mend hearts.
Ezzy: First of all, ice cream mends hearts.
Ezzy: Second of all, pizza doesn’t give you orgasms.
Quincey: Have you tried Frank’s pizza?
Ezzy: God, you’re the worst. At least download a dating app so we can scroll through it hungover in bed tomorrow.