Page 6

Dani

The nature of our work keeps us on our toes, as our schedules are often unpredictable.

We can never be certain when the phone might ring, summoning us to our next job.

While the pay is generous and certainly appealing, the irregular hours leave much to be desired.

Today, even though Jules and I have the rare luxury of a day off, the possibility that we could be called at a moment’s notice to tackle a cleaning assignment still lingers.

The uncertainty adds a layer of apprehension to our lives.

I hear Jules’ phone ring from my room. She mutters a few words and rushes out. I pour us both a cup of black coffee.

“Everything alright?” I ask her.

She shakes her head and mouths ‘no’ as she listens to whoever is on the other line. Her mouth is wide open, and her cheeks are flushed.

“Okay. Thanks for calling Destiny. Mmhm, yeah, no problem.” She hangs up the phone. “Holy fucking shit, you are never going to guess what the fuck happened last night!” She exclaims with a serious tone.

“Um, okay. Let me give it a go. A body was found without a head in a cemetery covered with ancient symbols written with human blood, and only you and I can break the case?” I joke.

“What? No…” Jules’ face gets serious and now I wish I didn’t joke. “Spencer is dead.”

My eyes widen, and I nearly choke on my coffee.

“His truck was found halfway down the cliff with him inside. He was driving drunk, Destiny said, and he must have lost control. Drove right off the cliff… He bit off his tongue and broke his neck. I guess his airbag never went off. ”

“Jesus fuck…” I don’t even know how to respond. Spencer was a dick, but I would never wish death upon him. “See, this is why you should never drink and drive!”

“Yeah… no kidding. Well anyway, they are pulling up his truck now. Luckily no one else was with him. I wonder who will take his place now as our superior. Destiny said she put in a word for me, but I think Chase will get it. He was Spencer’s right-hand man.”

“At least Chase is a nice guy. He’s married, so we don’t have to worry about him getting creepy like Spencer did,” I respond.

“Girl, YOU don’t have to worry… I’m a lesbian so I’m off the hook. All guys know better than to flirt with me,” she mused, her fingers absentmindedly scratching her head as she tossed her long, unruly curls aside.

“I’m going to have to bail on scary movies all day, I’m sorry!”

“What?! No!” I exclaim, my lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout.

With a playful flick of her finger, she nudges my lip gently and crinkles her nose in mock disappointment.

“I know, I’m really sorry!” her voice laden with regret.

“But Destiny needs me in the office today. She’s been cross-training me in handling permits and certifications related to biohazard waste management, and honestly, if I ever want to climb the ladder in this job, I have to learn to do more than just clean up after the dead…

” Her gaze softens as she offers me a sympathetic smile, “no offense intended.”

I smile back at her, “None taken. Go on, I understand.” I take her coffee cup from her hand, and she glares at me playfully.

“You can still enjoy one though! My phone says tonight is a full moon, so perfect creepy vibes for you to smoke weed and watch all your murder shows and movies.”

Full moon.

Shit. This is perfect .

I can head out back and go into the woods and maybe examine the grimoire a little more.

Now I’m excited.

“That sounds like the perfect night to me!” I gleefully say as I chassé around the kitchen.

“God, you are so weird. Don’t go joining a cult like the Keepers of the Mist or any crazy shit,” Jules jokes.

“You know, a cult could be kind of fun. Offering blood under the full moon in a chalice while chanting spells to the Dark Lord herself. Sounds like a good time if you ask me,” I smile.

“Alright well don’t do any of that without me! I gotta borrow your car. Is that ok?”

“Yup! Not going anywhere today. Here,” I grab my keys and toss them to her. She grabs her bag off my kitchen counter and kisses my cheek, “You’re the best!”

I follow her to my front door, carefully opening it with a flourish. “Chivalry isn’t dead after all,” she teases, shaking her chest playfully as she walks out the door. “If only you were into girls,” she adds with a mock frown, her eyes full of mischief.

I respond with an impish grin and give her a playful swat on the ass, eliciting a surprised squeal. “Dani, take me to dinner first, geez!” We both laugh, the sounds echoing in the quiet morning air.

As she climbs into my car, the engine hums to life, and I wave goodbye, cradling my steaming cup of coffee in one hand. I watch her drive away, until she disappears around the corner.

Turning back inside, I pause for a moment, inhaling the fresh, crisp morning air. I can already feel the heaviness of the impending rain, but I welcome it, knowing it will wash away the remnants of the night and usher in a new day.

I decide to clean my house. The interior of my home reflects a blend of simplicity infused with some Victorian vibes, plus a hint of bohemian flair that I absolutely adore.

Plants hang in macrame netting from the corners on my walls, and books fill the living room walls.

After my father died, I threw his shit out, only keeping a photo of him and my mother before I was born, when they were at their happiest, and then I painted the living room black.

He left me the house, a seemingly quaint relic of the past, somewhat haunted by unspoken memories.

For reasons I could never entirely grasp, he clung to it with an unwavering tenacity.

Perhaps it was the very walls that bore witness to the love my parents shared, a love that blossomed for eight beautiful years before my arrival cast an unexpected shadow over them.

I was the catalyst for the fractures that eventually tore our family apart.

My father always blamed me for my mother leaving, and this accusation burned deeply within me, fueling a resentment that prompted me to escape the confines of this place the moment I turned eighteen.

I sometimes entertain the idea that he willed this house to me as a form of retribution, a cruel reminder of the ties that I seemed to unravel. It was as if he knew my aversion to this home, yet something inexplicable held me back from putting it on the market.

Instead of sinking into despair, I took matters into my own hands.

I began the daunting task of decluttering, tossing aside the remnants of a life I felt disconnected from, while breathing new life into the space by repainting the light colors to dark tones that resonated with my own style.

Each brushstroke and decorative touch became a silent rebellion against the memories I could not escape, transforming the house from a prison of my past into a canvas of my present.

The mortgage is fully paid off, a significant relief that lifts a weight off my shoulders.

After my father passed away, he left me a decent inheritance.

While it’s not a fortune, it’s enough to cover my bills and support my unconventional work schedule.

Thankfully, living in this town has its advantages; the cost of living is reasonable, making it easier to make ends meet without constant worry.

After a few hours of diligent work, I finally finish cleaning the house, the air around me fresh and invigorating.

With a sense of accomplishment, I light my lavender candle and the gentle floral scent fills the room, soothing my senses.

Next, I take my bundle of sage and begin to spiritually cleanse my home, feeling a wave of tranquility wash over me as the fragrant smoke dances upward, carrying any lingering negativity.

I go over to my couch, pull out the grimoire and necklace, and set them gently on the dining room table.

The sounds of the sage smoldering in the kitchen fill the air, and I marvel at how robustly the sage burns today.

It’s as if the spirits themselves have decided to join the cleansing ritual, urging me to create a space that is not just clean but also spiritually vibrant.

I begin carefully flipping through the pages, reading some of the incantations and translating some of the Latin. I turn back to the page with the three men; their gazes meet mine once again and heat radiates through my body as if I’m being summoned by them.

It’s the strangest feeling.

My fingers glide over the faded ink, tracing the ancient Latin words hidden by time. I immerse myself in their meaning, the soft rustle of my paper accompanying the quiet of the room as I jot down each decipherable fragment.

The text feels charged with a sense of mystery; it resembles a spell, drawing me deeper into the cryptic language.

Hours slip away unnoticed as I passionately translate the arcane script into English, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Summoning Spell of the Triad . An electric thrill courses through my veins—this page is a summoning spell .

I meticulously record the rest of the incantation, transforming each Latin syllable into its English counterpart.

A subtle unease unfurls within me when I recall the stipulations outlined on the first page: the spell can only be wielded beneath the full moon and within the embrace of the woods.

How peculiar that I inhabit a forest, that a luminous full moon hangs in the night sky, and that I stumbled upon this grimoire just in time. ..

This is no coincidence; it feels as if fate itself has interwoven our paths. With pen scratching eagerly against my journal, I commit every detail I’ve uncovered to memory, my mind racing with possibilities as I wait for midnight.

I smoke a bowl to clear my mind and relax my nerves. I know nothing will come of this, but something inside makes me giddy to try.

I gather my things, put them in my bag, and start to wander in the woods. It’s almost midnight, and I want to get situated.

I tread softly through the dark, dreary night, I’m filled with anticipation.

Each step sends a cascade of dry leaves crunching beneath my worn boots, echoing softly in the stillness.

I forgo the comfort of a flashlight; instead, the luminous glow of the full moon casts a silvery sheen across the landscape, illuminating my path as I venture deeper into the embrace of the woods.

The distant crack of twigs breaking apart resonates around me, but a calm resolve settles in.

It’s likely just an animal navigating the underbrush.

As I wander, I come upon a perfect clearing, a sanctuary nestled amongst the towering sentinels of the forest. The trees stand guard, their stout trunks draped in rich green moss, while delicate mushrooms peek out from their bases like little sentinels of this hidden realm.

The air is saturated with the earthy fragrance of damp soil and dew, creating a sense of serenity that surrounds me, grounding me in nature .

It’s so peaceful out here.

I lower myself onto the chilly, unyielding ground, feeling the rough texture beneath me as I pull out my well-worn notebook. My phone shows it’s 11:56 pm.

I take a deep breath, and with shaky hands, I put the necklace over my head. It sits perfectly on my chest, and I feel confident wearing it. Like I matter. Like I belong.

I meditate with deep, intentional breaths, envisioning roots extending from my body deep into the earth, anchoring me firmly in place. In this stillness, I call upon my higher self and spirit guides, seeking guidance and wisdom as I prepare to weave this spell.

While uncertainty flickers at the edges of my thoughts, I embrace the knowledge that flows within me, trusting that I possess the essence needed to forge this mystical connection.

I take several deep breaths in and out and find myself relaxed. I glance at my phone one last time. Midnight.

I hold my journal in my hand while the other cradles the gem, and I begin to calmy recite what I wrote down:

“In shadows deep where spirits dwell,

I call on thee; I weave this spell.

Three men of fire, dark as night,

come forth to heed my call tonight.

By the blood of the earth, the veil I break,

with ancient names, your forms awake.

From realms unknown, I bid you rise,

heed my voice, reveal your guise.

Demon of desire, demon of care,

demon of passion, our bond we’ll share.

Together, we’ll weave our fates entwined,

by my will and by this rhyme.

So mote it be!”

I repeat the spell three times.

Nothing .

Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

I chuckle to myself, the sound bouncing off the gnarled trunks of the tall trees around me. “What a fool I am to think anything might actually happen,” I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper in the stillness of the forest.

As my laughter fades, my smile wanes, replaced by a resigned sigh, and I shrug my shoulders. It was worth a shot, even if it didn’t pan out.

Rising to my feet, I carefully brush the crisp, decaying leaves from my ass, the remnants of my momentary repose clinging stubbornly to my jeans. With a sense of finality, I tuck my journal back into my worn canvas bag.

A chill runs down my spine as an unsettling sensation washes over me, creeping into my thoughts like a shadow. It feels as if invisible eyes are upon me, scrutinizing my every move.

With a surge of anxiety, I whip my head to the right, straining to catch a glimpse of anyone nearby, but the area remains eerily empty, the silence almost deafening.

I take a cautious step to the left, my heart racing in my chest, when suddenly my breath catches in my throat.

A figure looms in the distance, impossibly tall and shrouded in darkness, clad in what seems to be a metal mask that obscures his features.

He leans leisurely against the trunk of an ancient tree, and a scream erupts from my lips, echoing into the stillness of the evening.

My scream is abruptly muffled by a rough, calloused hand that clamps down over my mouth, sending a wave of panic crashing over me. The suddenness of it steals my breath, and my heart races as fear grips me tightly.

Warm lips touch my ear, and a hard, muscular body presses against mine. One hand covers my mouth, the other gently slides to my stomach, pulling me harder against his... erection?

His laugh is wickedly delicious. My body responds in ways it most certainly should not be responding right now .

His warm, wet tongue slides over my earlobe, causing my insides to flip, as he whispers, “If you scream, we will punish you. If you run, we will chase you and fuck you right where we catch you…” His voice, a sultry whisper with a smooth timbre, rings deeply, sending a delicious thrill coursing through my body, igniting every nerve with an electrifying warmth.

“But why do I sense that that’s exactly what you want, Dani ?”