“Where there is no imagination, there is no horror.” – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Jasmine couldn’t believe it; she was actually considering her friend’s offer. Was she a skeptic? Yes. Was she desperate? Most definitely. Honestly there was no harm in it, if it worked, it worked and if it didn’t then she could just go back to sulking until the bad news hit.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’ll take the offer, I am desperate after all.” Julien’s eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets as a look of disbelief crossed his features. “Grab your laptop; we’ve got some research to do.”
After what seemed like days, the two friends had managed to find the ritual instructions. However this all seemed a bit…odd to Jasmine. The requirements were otherworldly. For starters, where would she find a door with a knocker on it and how was she supposed to get desert sand? Also the ritual could only take place during a lunar eclipse in spring. It was spring indeed but a lunar eclipse wouldn’t be happening anytime soon, right?
“We can meet the requirements just fine Jas, that old house on the outskirts of town has a basement with a knocker attached to the door and…Uh Jas why are you looking at me like that?”
She was giving him a weird look that screamed what the fuck.
“Just wondering why on earth you would go exploring an abandoned building for nothing.”
“Well Jas, my little ‘hobby’ requires me to delve into abandoned buildings and such if you can recall.” He said as he sent an eye roll her way.
“Anyway we can use the house for that and as for the sand, remember my trip to Egypt?” She nodded. “I took some sand and put it in a jar as a souvenir so we can use it.” Jas didn’t even wanna know why he would take sand as a souvenir, Julien was a strange man and she preferred not to question his peculiarities.
“I heard that there would be a lunar eclipse next Sunday and we can use those three candles over there.” Julien jerked his thumb in the direction of a table in the corner. Jas had set three red candles there for decoration but had never found a use for them, until now.
“And lastly we can use that old bag in the corner there.” He pointed to a burlap bag that seemed as though it could fit over her head.
That was it, the requirements were met and next Sunday would be the day she would either come out a believer or remain a skeptic.
It was Saturday afternoon, tomorrow would be the night she would try to summon the Knockertell. Jasmine sat in her apartment, a shot of whiskey was in hand. She rarely drank; only when she was stressed did she see the need to turn to the bottle. Letting out a deep breath she took a slow sip, wincing at the taste. The drink was bitter and burned her throat slightly but left behind a welcome numbness.
There were too many thoughts running through her mind, but she couldn’t focus on any of them. They simply came and went in a blur and she felt as though she could only catch a glimpse of each one before it ran off and another one came racing towards her. Closing her eyes she saw herself in a patch of fog, distantly catching the sound of faint but frantic footsteps running towards her in frenzy. Once they got close enough she heard a brief whisper in her ear before her mind turned silent once again. She wasn’t even able to decipher what the whisper had said because someone else was running towards her now just as quickly. Another whisper was heard and she managed to catch it this time. What’s gonna happen? As each thought came to her from the depths of the fog she had to focus harder to catch the words whispered into her ear.
Just as another pair of footsteps was heard, a new sound broke in, a simple chime as if someone was clinking two glasses together. That was what brought Jasmine out of the depths of her mind, her phone was ringing. Gulping down the last of the whiskey she answered. “Hello Jones speaking who is this?” On the other end Julien’s soothing voice could be heard, “hey Jas, it’s me. Listen I just wanted to make sure that everything was okay and that we’re still on for tomorrow.” Jasmine let out a shaky breath and replied, “yeah, yeah we’re good. I’ll s-see you tom-morrow night o-okay?” There was silence on Julien’s end for a moment, she had stuttered, all his life Julien had always listened to her confident voice, one that never shook or quavered, this was something raw and new and he didn’t know what to make of it.
Her small voice brought him out of his stupor.
“Jas are you sure you’re okay?” She let out a sigh,
“yes I’m fine, Frost I’ll see you tomorrow night, take care.”
“You too Jas.”
She cut the call and leaned back into the sofa. The brunette reached for the bottle to pour herself another shot but found that it was empty. She let out a frustrated groan and got up to grab her coat, she wanted to get drunk right now, no she needed to get drunk right now.
Jasmine exited the liquor store with two bottles of whiskey, lucky for her the store was only a few minutes away from her apartment complex. She had told the owner that she would have guests over later when he asked her why she was spending so much on the drinks. She wasn’t expecting guests, she only wanted to forget her troubles as quickly as she could and the only way to do that involved a good drink. As she was walking down the street, something caught her eye. It was an old antique shop on the edge of the street. Curiosity got the better of her as she walked over to the shop, Anne’s Antiques. Heading in she saw rows of shelves holding several dusty old books and other knick knacks and trinkets. As she walked deeper into the store, Jas spotted something in the corner of her eye. Turning she saw an intricate gold cross, no bigger than her hand, resting in a display case. It glimmered brightly and was encrusted with what appeared to be rubies. Something made her want it because Jasmine found herself walking towards the counter and asking the lady-she presumed to be Anne- to show her the cross. The old woman went on and on about the history of the accessory but Jasmine paid no attention to her. She told her that she wished to purchase the cross and after buying it set out for home.
That night Jasmine didn’t even bother to touch the bottles instead she chose to do something she hadn’t done, not even as a child; she prayed.
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