Calla’s POV
Lit candles flickered in the dim light, casting dancing shadows across the hardwood floor. The three brown candles and a singular red one were arranged in a diamond shape, creating an almost sacred space within the living room. The rich scent of frankincense and myrrh rose in lazy spirals around her as she opened the window slightly, allowing the smoke to drift into the cool evening air, where it mingled with the quiet stillness outside.
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Returning to the circle, she carefully emptied the bag of crimson powder into a lustrous purple-hued shell, its surface catching the candlelight like a whisper of royalty. However, as she prepared to continue, she hesitated. There were only two authentic ingredients delineated in the spell, which threw Calla off. Normally, some sort of herb would be in the bowl, but this incantation required only the simple yet elegant incense.
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Glancing at the top of the page, her eyes caught sight on the title: ‘For Those Drowning.’ The word pierced her like a hook, pulling unwanted thoughts towards the front of her mind. No matter how hard she tried in life, nothing ever felt adequate. Speaking up meant trouble, and remaining silent felt like a surrender. Even at work, every step she took seemed to land her in a minefield of constant issues, where no choice felt right.
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Her thoughts drifted to Curtis, and a wave of frustration surged hot in her chest. He never acknowledged the effort she poured into their relationship. Constructive criticism was his specialty, and each perceived flaw carved a piece of her heart away, laying it bare for his scrutiny. Instead of cherishing what he had, he methodically locked each piece away, turning her into a mere shadow of herself, drowning in the turbulent waters of despair.
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Calla reread the spell, her heart racing as she confirmed she had everything needed. Candles? She checked off each one in her mind. After ensuring she was ready, she drew her athame—a small silver dagger with an ornate handle, passed down through generations, hidden in a false drawer beneath her altar cloth. It felt strangely comforting in her hand, as if it was a long-lost friend finally come home.
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Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. With a steady hand, she pressed the tip of the sharp blade into her index finger. Dark, warm blood welled and dropped into the center of the crimson powder, mingling and creating tiny ripples as she began the incantation.
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“From the wellspring deep within,
Let courage rise, let strength be.
Two hearts entwined, a single beat,
To stand unyielding, to not retreat.
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When shadows loom, and fear takes hold,
Grand fortitude, a spirit bold.
A steady spine, a voice to raise,
To face the darkness, through the haze.
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My own strength found, my spirit free,
So shall it be.”
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With careful intent, Calla folded the paper seven times, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. She placed one corner against the flame of the lit candle, watching it come alive with vibrant energy. As she dropped it into the crimson mixture, the items sparked and flared before erupting into a brilliant indigo flame, illuminating the room with an otherworldly light.
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Suddenly, the open window slammed shut with a resounding bang, the sound reverberating through her bones and yanking her from her focus. Out of her peripheral vision, she noticed the air warp and shimmer, colors bending like a funhouse mirror, shadows twisting in an uncanny dance. Calla stumbled back, her heart racing, as an impossibly long leg stepped through the void.
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The boots landed silently on the hardwood floor, yet the impact echoed through her entire being, filling the air with an electric tension.
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Emerging from the smoke was a figure—tall, lean, and cloaked in an aura of heat and the unmistakable scent of brimstone. Black horns twisted back from the male’s forehead, shaped like intricate wrought iron, glinting ominously. A tail, long and sleek, flicked behind him, moving with the lazy grace of a cat, adding to his unsettling allure. His eyes, a fiery golden brown, glowed with an intensity that seemed to pierce through her very soul as he surveyed her.
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Calla’s breath caught in her throat, her back hitting the couch as shock paralyzed her. Words evaporated from her mind, her lungs grasping for air as the figure drew closer.
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The demon smiled, his teeth sharp and predatory, a grin that sent shivers down her spine.
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“Well,” he drawled, his voice a smooth mix of gravel and velvet, layering a sense of both danger and allure in the air. “Took you long enough."13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiWSFkgraDz
