Chapter 4: ONE IGNORANT NUN.
We had agreed to meet in my room twenty minutes after Compline, at 9:20 p.m. to be exact since the night prayer was followed by strict silence and the day was pronounced over. Valeria's attribute, a book with her little spells and charms, was sitting on my desk, but Valeria herself was missing. Good thing Ronan, the hot guy, had given her two old phones with prepaid services by Val's request, so I texted her:
𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞?
And received:
𝚁𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔? 𝙸'𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚁𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚗.
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭, I thought. She slithered in and out of the monastery like from a college dorm. I only sneaked out of here twice: to buy candy bars at a local gas station, and then to buy bread at the local bakery. Otherwise I refused to join Valeria's escapades, too afraid to get caught and kicked out.
But now thinking of Val probably having the time of her life somewhere outside the monastic walls while I was confined in those monastic walls, I was extremely bored.
I picked up the book. ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪᴄᴄᴀ ʙɪʙʟᴇ: ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ɢᴜɪᴅᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴘᴇʟʟs. I frowned at the name. Valeria surely knew more about its properties than me. I was a dumb-dumb when it came to 'magick' and treated things like these books as a total waste of trees.
So I sat in my dark cell on my squeaky bed with the Wicca Bible on my lap thinking of what use I could get out of it. I flipped through the pages: Introduction. Know your power. Herbs. First spells. The Clements. More herbs. More spells, for protection, luck, money, love. Blah, blah blah, my eyes sprinted through lines, for power, for health, for happiness, blah blah blah… and then 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘮.
𝔈𝔫𝔬𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔞𝔫 𝔓𝔯𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔯: 𝔅𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔄𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩 ℑ𝔫𝔳𝔬𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫.
✡
𝘐𝘯𝘷𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. As a summoning? I slowed down on the next three pages, carefully studying the being I was to conjure. Raphael: Divine Healer; Facilitator of Miracles and Blessings.
I assumed that was the angel Val had planned to invocate. 𝘏𝘮, 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. I learned some more about the actual ritual and, just out of excruciating boredom, was ready to try it.
The only issue was that I did not have the right attributes. 2 pieces of aventurine, 2 of malachite and 2 of emerald; 6 big green candles; white roses or lilies of the valley. A wand.
Where the fuck was I going to get all that from, and at this late hour? Those were not the 'commodities' the monastery carried. The only place I could think of was my mother's crystal shop. Or Val. I shot her another test.
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕?
No response. Whatever. I was way too bored and careless for the precision of what I used, so I worked with what I had at hand at the moment. I substituted the green candles for plain white ones, the fancy stones for Himalayan salt crystals, the wand for a tree stick, and the lush flowers for some apple mint blossoms, which grew in a greenhouse near the barn.
The latter was a bitch to get. Not only was the tray with the mint situated in the farthest end of the greenhouse, but I had to force myself through the narrow space and creep like a bug between all the bullshit plants that curled and twisted in my way, squinting so not to poke my eye out.
And on my way out I had managed to step into a bucket of liquid fertilizer and scratch my hand to blood on a nail that hid near the door. So that was fun. Oh, and did I mention it was winter? So I froze my ass while scavenging for the stupid plant. But once in my room, I shook off dirt and snow and went straight to business.
The instructions said, place the stones into a six-pointer, the Star of David, then stand a candle at each end of the shape. Unfortunately, I could only gather 3 big candles, and the rest were thin and flimsy. Therefore, I did not do a hexagon but poured salt into a triangle, and placed the big candles accordingly. The mint flowers — literally my blood, sweat and tears — were crumbled and sprinkled on top instead of the rose petals. The final touch – lighting the candles.
I also decided to utilize the thin candles for the ambience. All nine of them, waxed in place, were lined up on that useless bench-like installation to get some use out of it. Now the room was twinkling with lights (according to the text, they indicated my pure love and intent) that created dancing shadows all over the room.
I kneeled next to the altar I had assembled, the book in my hands. I turned the page and was now down to the next step of my ritual – Guided Meditation.
I was instructed to stare at the sigil of archangel Raphael, an odd looking medallion with some lines and circles and what not, portrayed on one of the pages. I was to do so until the sigil would imprint in my mind and I would be able to 'draw' it using the wand inside of the alter with my eyes closed.
I closed my eyes when the pattern became familiar. I was then instructed to sit still and meditate on my pure and good intention, no other thought polluting me. I was to imagine my worries, anxieties and unwanted thoughts as clouds swimming by.
I remember thinking, before all thoughts dissolved, how preposterous I looked.
After good ten minutes I became fully aware of the present. I felt the cold floor underneath me, my bent knees aching ever so slightly, my shoulders down and neck long, my heart beating slower and my breathing decreasing. I heard the soft crackling of the candles. I heard the occasional wafts of the wind outside, and when the wafts would pass, I clearly heard the silence. My senses were heightened: exactly 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 I was trying to achieve.
I had opened my eyes for just a moment then to poke the stick at the middle of the triangle before I closed them back and by memory began to outline the sigil. I halted several times, trying to recall how the pattern went, but overall I thought I had drown it correctly. The last step – The Call.
𝐀𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐦 𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐦
Diregere dignare, Domine Deus, in adiutorium nostrum, sanctum Raphaelem Archangelum; et quem tuae maiestati semper assistere credimus, tibi nostras exiguas preces benedicendas assignet. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen.
⚕️
I had to recite it 6 times for 6 candles. However, since my DIY altar contained just 3, I recited the prayer thrice only, butchered it with terrible pronunciation. Then I waited for a while…for absolutely nothing.
Obviously.
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[music strongly recommended for this segment: "Unbound Purpose" by Secession Studios]
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I rose from my aching knees and sat on the bed opposite to the nine candles that burned in perfect tranquility, staring at the unwavering lights with apathy. Faux. And to think there were individuals that actually fell for this crap? 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥. I tittered. 𝘐𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘝𝘢𝘭 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, I thought, 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘥—
Something moved. A shadow? I disregarded it. The candlelight was obviously tricking my eyes; they were tired. 𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐'𝘮—
𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 moved again. My attention snapped. I stopped thinking of my stupidity and Val, or anything for that matter. My vision focused on the shadows that seemed to stir out of place; nothing suspicious. I rubbed my tired eyes.
A noise followed. Unobtrusive. Hardly hearable. Like a gentle breath or a waft of wind, just a bit clearer, as if the wind blew inside the room. My fingers halted right on the eye they were scratching. With one eye available I noticed shadow movement, another clearer 'slither' along the dim wall. I swallowed. 𝘕𝘰. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴.
Then 𝕡𝕠𝕠𝕗. The first candle went off.
It almost seemed like someone stood right above it and ever so gently blew it out. I stared breathlessly at the smoke that came from the extinguished wick. The feeling I had experienced resembled drunkenness, even though I didn't know what being drunk was. But basically, fear to the point of lightheadedness.
The whole space swayed gently, and I felt I swayed with it. In my head the same question on replay: Is this happening or am I going mad? I even remember uttering, "Val?" as if she was there, pranking me somehow.
The second candle died out. The same gentle blow, a soft breath. I remember shaking my head no, denying what I was witnessing.
The third candle went off.
6 candles left.
I didn't dare blink, goggled at the remaining flames with horror, and I remember how I wished for them to burn forever. Just as I wished that, the fourth candle went out. After the fourth one, the interval between them dying became shorter. And shorter.
And shorter.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine!
The last one went out so violently that the poor thing trembled. What was left were the three big altar candles that burned on the floor beneath me. But by then, my body was so numb, so rooted to the spot with fear and extreme confusion, that I couldn't even move a muscle to look down, as my eyes, round as saucers, still gaped at the smoking darkness that was lit up a moment ago.
I felt them, heard them go out. One by one. Angrily. At an interval of three seconds between each blow. I glanced down for an instant to register what had happened below me only to look up and find myself staring at two burning lights. It confused me to no end. I could have sworn all of the candles went off, unless my eyes betrayed me and I missed something.
Regardless of what it was, a fact was a fact. There were two flames burning. Still as a statue, I watched them. Observed them. They moved funny, floated yet maintained the same level and distance. At times one light would slide behind the other, and then the other way around. It was a baffling sight that became more baffling as the seconds ticked by.
Only some time later it dawned on me – my candles weren't as tall as those lights, weren't as bright. Those were no candles. 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴.
I felt a presence, I remember. It was so strong that I could sense its thick energy just by moving fingers through the electrified air. And I remember having this unmistakable feeling in my stomach, dread twisting my guts into a knot. Something was sitting on that bench in the darkness.
One instant. That's all it took for me to turn from a complete atheist to a complete believer, the feeling so painful it was hardly tolerable. My granny's demons suddenly had weight, meaning, reason, sense. There was hell, and there was heaven, and devil, and God…𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘥…
The lights–the eyes flickered. I winced, but stared at them unwaveringly. Their movement began to make sense to me. They seemed to scan the limited space, curiously, thus the constant turning of…of the head? I imagined the face in which those eyes were embedded. But dumb with terror, I couldn't come up with one, almost didn't want to.
My brain was too stunned to imagine what hid in that darkness. I could only goggle at the two lights that slowly took in their surroundings. When they halted on me, they glowed brighter. And bigger, it appeared.
I didn't dare move, make a sound. Blink. And as far as I can recall, I wasn't breathing. That was a long moment I had to endure, my limbs turning to stone in suspense. The eyes tilted. No, the head tilted, and then came out a deep, quizzical growl.
𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖊?
A laughter erupted. It sounded horrendously loud. To compare the magnitude, a lion's angry roar would be a playful meow next to that blast of horror. It was more than beastly. Wicked. Dark. Fierce. And so powerful it shook the walls. Truly something from hell. I wondered if other sisters heard it. They had to, for how it thundered. That sound paralyzed not body but soul, gripped it with cold claws of terror.
𝕺, 𝕻𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗. . . 𝕼𝖚𝖆𝖊 𝕴𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖆!
It, whatever 𝙞𝙩 was, guffawed madly. And then the 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, for they were eyes (the more I gaped at them the clearer they became) momentarily disappeared. Closed? When they appeared again, they burned like lava. And a 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦, for it sounded more human, albeit neither male nor female, echoed through the room.
"𝚂͏𝚙͏𝚎͏𝚊͏𝚔͏, 𝚜͏𝚎͏𝚎͏𝚔͏𝚎͏𝚛͏."
My brain registered familiar language. I swallowed down the fear that was stuck in my throat like a hot coal.
"Ar—arch…angel?" I stuttered.
Silence.
"R-Raphael?"
"𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚕."
It growled; its derisive reply felt like a punch in the gut. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰? 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦? It truly felt like a dream, conversing with…with what? With who? Were I only imagining it all? If I wasn't so deeply shocked I'd surely give myself a good slap in the face. But all I could manage was hoping I was still sane. And why did I get so tired so suddenly? It seemed my energy was draining out of me like water out of a broken vessel. I slowly inhaled and exhaled as I felt dizzy constantly holding my breath.
"Who am I speaking to?"
"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝙰𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚞𝚜."
The name sounded familiar. But as I tried to think of where I had heard it before, nothing came to mind.
"What 𝘢𝘳𝘦 you, Asmodeus?" I asked, my tone neutral, my eyes glued to the fiery lights on the opposite end of the room.
Silence.
𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘖𝘶𝘪𝘫𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥, I speculated, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰?
"Are you a spirit of a dead person?"
Silence. And the lights disappeared again. I thought of a more respectful question.
"Are you a man?"
Silence. Darkness.
"A woman?"
Silence. Darkness. I sat still. 𝘈𝘮 𝘐 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭?
"Are you—here, Asmo—dees? Deus?"
The eyes appeared suddenly, glowed and blinded me with how brightly they shone, like the headlines of a train, splitting my cell on black and white.
"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚗𝚞𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝙸 𝚊𝚖."
It sounded like a beginning of a threat.
"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎, 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕. 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚢'𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞."
The voice growled deeper the more it spoke; I could hardly make out the words that lashed at me. Not without difficulty I discerned sacral offerings, and how I neglected to prepare them for the guest I had invited into my house.
"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢. 𝙴𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝚁𝚒𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔, 𝚗𝚞𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑."
The gruesomeness it spewed was nothing short of grisly. But as if hypnotized to keep my mouth shut I could only listen to the otherworldly outrage and feel its wrath chilling my spine.
"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚗. 𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍."
"Wai–Wha–Wh–" I mumbled, tongue thick with shock. A tear ran down my cheek. I was afraid. "I…don't under—"
"𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑."
The voice roared and the glaring suns went off.
I don't remember what happened afterwards, except that the following darkness lasted indefinitely. I might have had passed out. That is why, I think, it felt so long. I also remember the real daylight burning my eyes when I had opened them, and Valeria's worried face as she shook me to consciousness.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
0Dev_Das0
0Dev_Das0 Thank you for reading!
P.S. Monache - nun
O, Pater...Quae ironia - O, Father...what an irony.
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