In the light of the quickly-dying sunset James picked up a piece of white chalk and traced an enormous circle on the wooden floor boards of his attic room. Next came a large albeit clumsy pentagram, and he placed his soft downy feather at the rightmost point. He did the same at the leftmost point with the enormous bear claw, wondering wryly if it would matter that it had come from the witchcraft store in downtown. Solemnly, he lit five white lavender-scented candles and placed them at each point of the pentagram. The sprigs of rosemary went at the top point just within his reach.
Drawing a deep breath, he opened the bag of white sand took a handful, tracing the circle and repeating the mystic syllables the carnie fortune teller had given him. The air in the attic was very still, the silence oppressive. James felt a shudder run down his back and he knew the spirits were gathering. The headache that had been with him since this whole mess began over a year ago was growing as they began to understand his motions and moved to put a stop to them.
Now for the blue sand. This he trickled over the pentagram itself and around each of the candles, constantly in motion, still repeating the words. There was palpable tension in the air now. He shook his head to clear away the mental cobwebs. These spirits were going to have to respect this ceremony, done as it was, in desperation. James had simply wanted a place to live and start a family. He set his teeth together and finished the blue sand.
A feeling of dread washed over him, but he plucked up his courage and stepped into the center of the pentagram. He spoke, “Spirits, I have pleaded with you to leave me in peace, but it has come to this. I call upon the latent power of the earth, represented here in these objects, to aid me in cleansing this house!”
An audible hum was growing in James’ ears, and he reached for the sharp knife at his belt. “As I spill this blood, I charge you be gone for all time!” Relying on a sudden burst of energy and moxie, he drew the sharp knife over his open palm and squeezed his fist so that the rush of crimson dripped down to the point of his hand and one…two…three drops spattered onto the floorboards. They dried instantly.
Almost immediately, he could see in front of him a dark shape that at first glance appeared human. As James peered at it, through the light of the candles he could make out a pair of glittering eyes. An evil hiss escaped the figure and James felt his heart stop. “We…do not take orders from mortals,” it rasped. “We…are Legion, we…are many.”