Warlocks and Shadows

A goat's head effigy hangs in the shadows. The room is dimly lit, illuminated only by a circle of candles. At the edge of the circle stands a masked silhouette, chanting in ancient Greek. I am nearly overwhelmed by vertigo as the pages turn. 

Sometimes I really hate October. You might think I would like it; after all, I can move around relatively freely without attracting attention. On the other hand, it really brings out the crazies, and for some reason they always, always, find me. Like this warlock and his attempts at a summoning ritual.

I focus my attention on the ground below me. Etched into the floor are intricate patterns that flow into a cohesive circle. It appears to be made of salt, charcoal, and some kind of blood. The limits of the circle are further defined by candelight; though the room is dark, not a single shadow breaks the seal. The effort is impressive, but ultimately futile. I dodge straight upwards and move along the rafters.

The warlock switches to Latin and sends a sphere of light toward the ceiling. By now, though, I am already traveling down the wall on his side of the room. As I get closer, he stutters and empties a saltshaker in a circle around him. Clearly he's an amateur if he thinks that would work on me, but I stop at the edges. If I mess with him a bit, maybe he'll leave me alone.

The warlock finally switches to English. "Shade!" he shouts. (I guess he sort of knows what I am at least.) "I have summoned you, and so by my dark power I command you: do my bidding and serve me!" (Like that ever works?) "Retreat from me and await my orders on the far wall!"

I slowly move toward the wall. May as well find out why he summoned me.

The warlock throws back his head and laughs. "At last! Now, demon (I am NOT a demon, thank you very much) you shall serve as my unseen wrath. No one will dare oppose me! I will be unstoppable! (Could he get any more cheesy?) Come, see the form of your first victim." He pulls a photograph from his robe.

I've had just about enough. I approach slowly and hover, pretending to look at the photo. Humans all look the same to me, I'd never figure out who it was even if I wanted to. Then, while he's still gloating and yammering about his would-be victim, I throw his book into the closest candle. It bursts into flames. The warlock screams and lunges toward it. I knock him to the side. Sure he screwed up the summoning, but I don't particularly want him to try again. 

"Get out of my way," snarls the warlock. He starts shooting those orbs of light again. I dodge them long enough to make sure the spellbook is ash. Once it's gone, I leave through the door. I take a quick look around the rest of the building, but it looks like all the summoning implements were in that room, and no one else is around. I head back into the night, stopping only to turn the horseshoe on his front door upside-down. Sometimes it's the little things that make you feel better.