Darrius suspended his hand above the ancient vessel. His blood pulsed, forming a tiny pool, before he turned his palm and allowed a single drop to fall. Black liquor rose, eager, like a lover yearning to possess his beloved. As they joined, he spoke the final words.
“Nunc Ostende Te.”
The explosion blinded him. The blast rang in his ears and beat in his brain. Somehow, he was still standing in a space devoid of light. The pain radiating from his chest silenced the screaming cut in his hand.
The booming in his head faded to a silence deeper than anything he had ever experienced. He reached his hands in front of him, patting the air where the table should have been. His mind raced, contemplating nefarious scenarios. His fingertips found coarse fabric. The burlap under the bowl. His fingers explored until they touched the rough stone. Darrius sighed, relived for only a second, when amber eyes materialized, floating in the darkness.
“Who are you?”
“It was you who summoned me,” the velvet soft voice oozed, seeping into his consciousness.
“The solicitation spell should have brought Sirena.”
“So, I’m not the one you expected?”
“Am I dead?”
“Hardly, darling,” the eyes blinked, hinting at seduction.
“She doesn’t love you, but I do.”
The ache in Darrius’ chest sank to the pit of his stomach.
“Thanks to your evil desires, you’ll have Eternity to experience my dark passions instead. Sirena is too good for the likes of you.”
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer