The words were written in a thick, bleeding black ink, and the end of the word Elizabeth nearly overlaps the picture drawn next to the Latin writing.
The picture wasn’t drawn by whoever wrote these ramblings in English; it had to have come with the original book. It’s of a dark figure, tall and shadowed, with sharp, clawed hands and eyes that of a black void. The creature appears to be a mixture of something human and something much worse.
The longer I stare at it, the more terrified I become. It kind of… it kind of looks like a more horrifying version of the incubus. As if the incubus I saw did its best to take on the shape of a man but couldn’t quite shake the appearance of this horrible creation on paper.
I take a deep breath. This is the first sign of life I’ve found in any of the books—the first sign of use or human interaction.
The text next to the drawing is significantly longer than the scribbled English, but still considerably short.
I begin to type in the Latin words, and once I have them typed in full, I read my screen.
Prince of Death, hear my plea
I do not surrender this soul to thee.
Bearer of Desire, take this sacrifice
Feed your wants and plenish your appetite.
Retract your claws and return this soul to me,
and a bargain I will consummate, regardless of what the cost must be.
Holy shit. It’s a spell to revive someone, I think. And abargain?The existence of this altar is becoming more and more sinister the longer I stand here.
I… did someone die in here? Was someone sacrificed to bring another back? This Elizabeth character, maybe?
So many questions circle my mind, yet nothing directly links to Atlas. Other than the fact that hisBearer of Desirecould be the incubus, nothing on this page explains why it would be present now. Unless Atlas was the sacrificed, of course. But I feel like he would remember something that traumatic.
And that he would also be like… dead or something.
Unless the sacrifice was keeping him alive…
My mind goes back to what the psychic said, how the prophecy saidstipulations must be metfor balance to be restored.
Could this spell have been a curse, and could it be connected to some kind of stipulations Atlas needs to meet?
One thing is for certain: we need to see that psychic again.
Within the hour, I’m dressed for the day with theBlack Booktucked discreetly into a backpack, heading into town in my dad’s truck.
I know I should have told Atlas where I was going and what I found, but I’m too angry to face him right now. The idea of going up into the west tower and seeing him post fuck makes me sick, so I’ll face this battle alone and report back later.
Atlas told me that his father hired a priest and a psychic to look into his condition a few months after he turned eighteen, and when I Googled it, there was only one major church to appear in Port Orford.
If going there and finding the priest who helped the Chastains will help cure Atlas, I will interrogate every priest I find. Even though I’m angry and hurt, my priority is still to save him.
I can still feel the presence of that demon, of the way it dug into my flesh. Iwillget rid of it.
The church is located by the main port, only a two-minute drive down the main oceanfront and across the street.
It’s a tall building made of white limestone, much like Chastain Castle, with a large, towering bell and a cross out front.
The sign by the parking lot reads:Those who worship the Lord find everlasting peace!
I park by the front doors and make my way inside, taking in the endless pews and the giant statue of Jesus on the cross. It’s a glorified, enlarged version of the chapel at the estate.
No one is sitting inside, no music is playing, and no candles are lit. I stand in the center of the room for a moment, listening to the sound of my own breathing as I look around.
