Knocking on Satan’s
Door excerpt 2
Wicked Witches, Devils & Dragons
© Paul DeThroe 2016
When his mom
left for work, Preston decided it was safe to perform a spell using his new
stolen skull as a magical tool. But first he did an internet search on the name
Agramon, and discovered it was the
ancient name of the demon of fear. Freaked out, he reached for the backpack and
slowly removed the skull. What he saw next blew him away.
The light of
day brought out details in the skull that Preston had overlooked the previous
night, despite the fact that he’d used a flashlight. The skull had two small, protruding
horns and vampire-like fangs, giving it the appearance of something that’d came
straight from Hell. He was absolutely sure this skull would be his unholy
grail. He’d use it, and the strange supernatural powers it surely possessed to
make all his evil desires come to pass.
Thrilled with
his discovery, Preston looked in his candle box and found one last black
candle. He lit the wick and held it over the demon skull as the melted wax
dripped. Electrified by the occult imagery dancing around in his head, he
placed the candle firmly into the melted wax and held it there until it was
secure.
Unlike any of
his other rituals, this one gave him a false sense of entitlement, like he
could rule the world if he wanted to. As the power in him began to rise, so too
did the temperature of the room. He opened his eyes, and to his amazement the
skull was gone, replaced by a real life fiery devil. Preston became filled with
fear, cowering down in front of the demon, as if that would somehow protect
him.
“Why have you
interrupted my eternal rest, boy?” Agramon bellowed.
Remembering
from his studies that humans have power over demons, and not the other way
around, his fear subsided and Preston began to feel vital confidence start to
build again. Ultimate magical power lay within his grasp, if he could figure
out how to use it to his advantage.
“I want you to
fulfill my every desire,” Preston whispered fearfully. “Make me the greatest
black wizard in the world.”
“He shall, if you’re
willing to make a small bargain with me,” crackled another flaming monster that
appeared from out of nowhere.
“Who are you,
demon?” Preston asked, again frozen in fear.
“My name is
Lucifer,” growled the demon. “I am Agramon’s master. I’ll lend his services to
you for a certain amount of time, for a small price, of course.”
“Name your
price,” Preston replied.
“Your eternal
soul,” Lucifer pointed a long, crooked finger right at Preston.
“What good is
my soul?” Preston laughed. “You have yourself a deal!”
“Show me your
hand,” demanded the devil. When Preston did so, Lucifer grabbed his index
finger, sliced it with a razor sharp claw and then produced a contract. Preston
sealed the deal by signing the contract in his own blood.
Both Lucifer
and Agramon disappeared. Only the demon skull remained, a black candle still
burning but with a strange, green glowing smoke billowing from its orifices.
Evil laughter filled the room and then dissipated, as did the eerie smoke.
“Your wishes are my command, Master Preston,” Agramon’s voice called from
within the wizened skull.
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