Page 8 of A Date With Demons

Did I do the spell wrong?

I place the three seeds on the table in front of the mirror and finish eating as I stare at the darkness in the mirror’s reflection.

I watch for a presence to appear. Or for anything at all to happen.

Well, this sucks.

That’s it. I suck at visions. I suck at magic. I should tell Mom and Dad that I’m a normie and move to town with my normie friends. Maybe relocate to Boston and get a real office job with my business degree. Marry a virgin accountant. Have two kids and take vacations to Martha’s Vineyard. Drive a Volvo. That might be nice. Or forget all of that and convert to another religion. Become a nun.

Sigh.

I plop my chin in my hand and stare at the princess dress at the sewing machine. Such a bummer. I would look so pretty in my costume. Too bad it was a complete and utter waste of time.

Something moves. I see it out of the corner of my eye.

My heart in my throat, my eyes catch on the mirror. Someone, or something, is behind me.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise and I slowly, inch by dreadful inch, turn around.

I gulp as black smoke rises from the circle. Is the room warmer than it was a minute ago?

The pentagram starts to crackle and glow like burning embers. I shriek and stand up, knocking over my mirror in the process. The black candle topples to the floor and rolls into the sand circle, its flame combining with the circle of fire. I shriek as the fire rises, higher and higher, licking the wood beams in my attic ceiling.

The curtains catch fire. The glass in my window shatters.

I am in so much trouble with Maple and Hollis.

My blood feels like it’s literally boiling.

I scream, but my voice is gone.

What have I done?

This was a bad idea.

I feel dizzy. Nauseous. And terrified.

The shapes of two monstrous, horned creatures appear within the flames. I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out.

One man is big, and the second shape is enormous. The red flames transform into an impossible, eerie black, pushing out more heat than before. Two sets of glowing, lizard-ish eyes stare back at me from the black fire, one set blue and the other black and gold.

My knees give out and I catch myself on the table’s edge. The mirror breaks.

The flames extinguish instantly, snuffed out by some inexplicable force.

There’s no smoke, no more sand circle, and no more glass in my window. The curtains have disintegrated, and matching circles of burned black wood are on my ceiling and floor.

And there, on the blackened wood floor, stand two demons—the most hideously menacing creatures I could have ever imagined. Their taloned claws, snaking tails, and carnivorous fangs are beyond anything I bargained for.

Finally, the scream bubbling up inside me finds my vocal cords.

I scream, and I scream, and I may never stop.

Chapter

Five

Bragg

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