Page 7 of Unleashing Mayhem
Kai had taken his suggestion back that very night and told Matty in no uncertain terms that the demon this page would summon wasnotsomeone Matty would want around, even in the short term.
But Kai wasn’t here right now, was he? He and Sascha had left, and now Matty had to do what he had to do, didn’t he?
He just hoped they’d forgive him later, after the fact.
Matty looked around the room for something to copy the symbol with. He was pretty sure Sascha had summoned Kai with a bottle of nail polish, but that had been a whole accidental thing.Thiswas on purpose, and Matty felt like he should make it nice. So his scary monster demon would feel welcome.
Oh! He had something!
Matty ran up the stairs. Sascha and Kai had gotten him art supplies, back when they’d had hopes for him adopting a hobby that didn’t involve watching bloody movies and hiding in his room. Matty found the box in his closet and gathered everything he could carry before rushing it all back down to the living room.
He spread the mess out on the floor, seeing what he had to work with. There was some thick, artsy paper—the kind people drew beautiful portraits on—and Matty carefully laid a piece of it on the living room rug, separate from the rest.
He sorted through the remainder of the supplies and finally settled on a plain piece of charcoal. There were other, brighter paints and markers, but the charcoal felt right.
Matty set the demon’s symbol next to his blank page. Should he just…go for it? Was a piece of paper and a stick of charcoal really enough to summon a monster?
He hopped up, remembering that Sascha had gotten flowers for the house before he and Kai had left. They were still in a vase on the kitchen table, and Matty selected a mostly wilted and forlorn-looking purple flower and brought it back to the living room, setting it above the blank page where he was going to copy the symbol.
There. That was kind of…appropriately gothic? Maybe?
Although, the more Matty stared at it, the more it looked like nothing at all.
Voices rang through the air outside, and Matty jumped in place before turning to stare through the living room doorway. The voices sounded deep. A group of men? Were they on thestreet or had they made it to the porch already? Were they coming for him finally? Had he been too slow in realizing he needed protection?
But then there was bright laughter and then the lighter, higher-pitched voices of small children, yelling something about a beach. A tourist family on the way back to their rental, most likely.
Matty sat there clutching his chest, his heart racing much too fast.
He couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t jump at shadows and panic over nothing over and over again.
Appropriately gothic presentation or not, it was time.
Matty waited until his hands were as steady as they were going to be, and then he carefully copied the symbol onto his paper, the charcoal blackening his fingertips. When he was done, he cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, studying the final result.
It looked…close enough.
Matty turned the symbol over and painstakingly sounded out the strange words on the other side.
Now he just needed blood.
Matty refused to touch a knife—not to harm another human, not even himself—so Matty bit down as hard as he could on his lower lip, wincing at the sharp sting. He swiped at it with a charcoal-dusted finger, then smeared the blood on the symbol he’d traced. It messed up the lines a little, but hopefully that wouldn’t matter.
Matty repeated the words on the page one more time for good measure, even though he was pretty sure he only needed to say them once.
There. It was done.
Wasn’t it?
An icy wind blew across his back, and Matty hunched over his paper to keep it from blowing away. Had the front door opened somehow? It was locked. Mattyknewit was locked. But…were the wrong monsters already here? The human kind? Ready to steal him away and make him hurt? Make him pay?
But then a dark fog poured in from nowhere, filling the room and bringing with it the scent of smoke and hidden shadows. It wasn’t long before the living room floor was hidden from view, the smoke still rising steadily, Matty’s hold on his paper the only reassurance that it hadn’t disappeared.
Matty grinned around chattering teeth, the pain in his lip sharp and satisfying as the wound stretched.
He’d done it. Matty had actually done it.
His monster was coming for him.
