DARKNESS CONGEALS AND catches fire, hitting the perimeter in hissing vehemence. A voice emanates from the centre of the mass in the conjured-midnight tongue.
‘Erase the circle,’ it says, tendrils licking the edge.
You want to listen. The request sounds so simple, seems so innocent. The circle causes it pain... keeps it prisoner. No, you don’t want that. Your feet propel you closer, unbidden.
‘You are helping.’
It’s harmless. Just brush away the salt and chalk... so easy.
‘Set me free,’ arsenic promises ooze, ‘and I shall grant your every wish.’
The book, with faded pages and multiple warnings, lies forgotten on the floor.
Your hand, yanked as if on an invisible string, reaches down and swipes a path through the grains. Your spine concaves as though to gain distance your feet won’t grant. A scream leaks from your sealed lips as the shadow grows.
The things you remember most are its voice, the gravel-rasp heard in deathbed secrets. And the excruciating burn of eighty jagged teeth sinking into your neck... the only honest thing it does.
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