They called out.
“…”
They taunted me.
A chill ran through me; a familiar and frightening voice whispered in the darkness. Haunting and unreal. It couldn’t be real. Still, if even the faintest chance existed, I needed to move forward.
Flying through the streets, I trailed the eerie thrum until I reached an abandoned building. An empty block, more like it. Few minds dwelled nearby, but the one at the center whispered a wicked hello.
Could he sense me? Was this some type of trap set by the Celestial Coven?
I froze, collecting myself, because I needed to investigate, to get answers. Even if this was a trap, a trick, it wouldn’t harm me. Not in this fragmented state of being. Besides, the chances of this being real were slim. All this could be some British psychopath with a similar horror to their thoughts. It might not be the most horrifying man I’d ever had the displeasure of meeting.
When I managed to compose myself, I floated into the dank building and made my way through the rundown rooms until I reached a dark cellar. Fuck me. Of course, I’d have to go into the depths of the dark.
Light flickered at the bottom of the staircase. I followed the lights, spotting hundreds of candles illuminating a red pentagram that I desperately hoped had been drawn in paint and not the alternative.
Knelt on the floor in the center of the pentagram was Theodore Whitlock. He kept his eyes firmly shut as he held his hands in front of his chest, channeling magic. A smile crept onto his face.
“Well, well, well,” he thought. “If it isn’t my favorite psychic.”
Thepsychopathy of his madness, his hatefulness, had lessened since last we met. Certainly, he was holding his true thoughts back, the vile tone of his crazed rage. But I wouldn’t complain since it often sent a bone-piercing rattle through my mind.
He wore clean clothes, unlike the last time I stumbled upon him. Though this outfit was a simple loose-fitting shirt and plain breezy pants. Nothing like Theodore’s style. His hair had grown longer, stringy and dingy, but it must’ve been by choice since he kept his face clean-shaven. His wrists were shackled with thick chainlike bracelets that had carved warding symbols. A similar collar was around his neck, and the warding symbols glowed with warning.
“Careful, friend.” Theodore’s haunting blue eyes searched the room for my presence. “These enchantments don’t just detect my casting. If you’re not cautious, they’ll know you found me.”
I backstepped, skirting the wall of the cellar. It did the trick. All but one symbol stopped glowing. That single symbol must’ve sensed Theodore’s casting. Not that it prevented him from channeling.
“Those goodie witches really did a number on the area.” Theodore’s mind scoured the city, searching for something as he channeled his magic. “Miles and miles away, my friends delay.”
He chuckled to himself, still scanning the room, still searching for me as if he’d ever see my intangible phantom form. I recoiled when his eyes landed on me. He couldn’t see me. I knew this, but I believed, perhaps, to some extent, that he sensed me. Sensed my subtle psychic presence as he worked.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said, not to me. No, he reserved his thoughts to speak with me. This comment was directed at the demonic energy he funneled into the cellar where he worked. “I beseech you, demon dogs. Do my bidding.”
Wisps illuminated the room, their flashing white lights smacking into each other until those flickers turned into black ooze. Slime and filth that bubbled and popped with blistering heat. Fiends swelled around the pentagram, each roaring and clawing at one another, devouring each other until only one remained. It grew and blossomed and erupted into a new demon.
A vampire.
Was Theodore specifically summoning vampires? Did his power allow him the precision to control the type of demon ascended? And why vampires? Was it truly just because of their strength and ferocity?
The demon’s elongated arms stretched wide, testing the perimeters of movement undoubtedly. There was musing and rage in those glassy red eyes that locked onto Theodore. This vampire was a pale yellow and had dark patches of golden body hair. Its claws were as bright as sunshine, and its teeth snapped as the vampire leapt forward.
“Foolish.” Theodore held a hand up, compelling the demon to behave.
It resisted Theodore’s grip, digging its clawed feet into the pentagram and tearing through the concrete flooring to reach the warlock.
“You waste your time, demon.” Theodore snapped his fingers.
The vampire wailed, bones shattered, its knees buckled, and the beast bowed before Theodore.
“I control hundreds of you at a time with ease. Did you honestly believe you could resist my absolute authority?” Theodore smirked. “I am the demon prince, the Heretic of Hell.”
“You are just another collared beast,” the vampire hissed. “We may be bound by your leash, but I see the strings on you.”
“The Celestial Coven prefers tame, scheduled chaos,” Theodore said, confiding this to me, not the vampire who held no true understanding of the situation.
“I could snip those strings,” the vampire insisted, a pleading expression on an otherwise mangled face of jagged teeth and frown lines.
