What would you do to save your child? For Clarissa the answer is simple... Anything. But what she needs is a miracle. In an act of desperation Clarissa calls upon a powerful entity and what she discovers is that miracles can happen, but they come with a price.
A long black satin ceremonial robe covered her naked body as Clarissa carefully painted, in blood, the seal of Solomon on the hardwood floor. The grimoire was very specific that everything was to be done as instructed for the invocation to be successful. If done incorrectly it could ‘at best’ not work. But, at worst... Clarissa wasn’t about to consider the ‘at worst’ scenario. It was going to work. It had to.
Clarissa had followed the directions right down to the most miniscule of details. She had not lain with a man since the previous full moon. That part had been very easy since she hadn't lain with a man in over two years, not since her husband's untimely death. She had just gotten out of a bath sprinkled with a dozen distinct herbs and oils, having waited four months to perform the ritual on the third full moon of the new year.
The seal consisted of two interlocked triangles, one upright and one inverted. Inside the triangles were a number of symbols, Arabic words, and names, all used by King Solomon himself, centuries ago whenever he required the assistance of the Djinn.
Once she completed painting the final of the markings she took a step back to inspect her work. Consulting her grimoire she verified that she had indeed made it as perfect as it could possibly be, considering it was human blood, not paint, that she was working with.
Human blood, thick and tacky, proved to be a challenging medium to paint with. In order to obtain the blood she’d had to pay someone a thousand dollars to ‘retrieve’ two blood bags from the local hospital. Buying stolen blood wasn’t the proudest moment in her life, but she was forced to take drastic measures. Most people never contemplate the lengths to which they’d go if they were out of options and out of time.
Clarissa was out of options, and seriously low on time.
Once satisfied with the seal, she began to inspect it, ensuring that the circle was completely intact. Any break in the circle could allow for a number of undesired things to happen; including possession or simply death to the summoner if the particular Djinn or, the Gods forbid, a demon were to be invoked if an error was made during the ritual.
A ring of salt also outlined the circle. Salt also helped protect entities from entering a circle. It was better to be safe than sorry. As the old saying went: an ounce of prevention equals a pound of cure. The circle itself was exactly six feet in diameter, so there was plenty of room inside for herself, her grimoire and writing materials, in the event that she might need them.
All the lights were out in the small house she owned in a quiet little residential area of Boston, Mass. She ensured that anything electrical was unplugged as it could interfere with the mystical energy she was about to give off, by opening the portal between this world and the world of the Djinn.
Finally satisfied all was in order, Clarissa loaded her arms with all she would need inside the circle, took a deep breath and entered. Six black candles were placed, one at each of the six points of the seal. Taking a match she quickly lit all six of the candles. When finished with the candle lighting she seated herself exactly in the middle of the two intersecting stars.
To say she was nervous would be an understatement; she felt as if her heart was about to explode in her chest from the anxiety. Taking a number of deep breaths, she attempted to calm herself. From what Clarissa had been told, Djinn were very perceptive; one would easily see her as an easy target if she couldn't keep her emotions under control and her wits about her.
I can do this, I can do this, she thought repeatedly as though the words were on a sound loop within her head, until she was breathing normally, her mind clear.
Once she had herself under control she produced a black satin pouch from an inside pocket of her robe. Carefully she opened the pouch and shook the contents into her hand. It was a silver ring with a large oval onyx stone. This is what she planned to bind the Djinn to when it arrived. She looked the ring over one final time. Satisfied with it, she dropped it into a bowl of earth, dug up from the local cemetery. Again, the retrieval of the earth from hallowed grounds was far from one of her shining moments.
She was ready to begin the invocation.
Despite having the grimoire in front of her to read from, she had memorized the Arabic words that were required to bring about the Djinn. Closing her eyes she began to concentrate her energy on the vision of opening a portal. She continued to recite the words until the reciting turned into a chant.
She could feel a strange energy build up in the room. The air became heavy, almost suffocating. She felt nauseated, but pushed on. Chanting, she willed the Djinn to appear.
She heard a whooshing sound and felt a warm rush of wind. Opening her eyes she gasped in surprise to see the room had filled with thick black smoke. The flames from each of the candles easily reached two feet in height.
Her nervousness was overtaken by her excitement. She pushed the hood of the satin robe back from her head revealing long blonde locks and excited bright blue eyes. The smoke seemed to develop a dense mass roughly five feet away from her, before her very eyes. It began to swirl as if it were a miniature tornado easily seven feet in height.
After several minutes the center of the ‘tornado’ suddenly burst into flames. Despite the fact the flames were easily seven feet high she couldn’t feel any heat coming from them; she could only see it.
From the flames he emerged.
What walked out of the flames was a man of massive proportions, easily six foot three in height. He had a lean, muscular build. The muscles in his broad, bare chest were well defined, which she could see perfectly well considering he was only wearing a pair of black trousers hung low on his hips. A red stone hanging from a silver chain around his thick neck immediately caught her attention.
But it was his eyes that really captivated her, making her gasp in shock once she was able to tear her own eyes from his magnificent physique. His eyes were a dark, glowing, menacing red. They actually glowed red, as if fire lived within them! It was then she took notice of his eyes, how cold and savage they were and she realized that she might well have gotten herself into something way beyond anything she could handle.
Stay in control, you need to be in control, she closed her eyes and told herself, keep calm.
“Witch!” he snarled as he took a step towards her. His eyes continued to blaze a deep threatening red. She could have sworn she saw tiny flames flare up within them as he spoke.
Unconsciously, and to her displeasure Clarissa found herself crab-crawling backwards inside the circle, attempting to widen the distance between them. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting when she conjured him. She had counted on being able to keep her composure to some degree, but that wasn't to be the case. The Djinn standing before her now, sizing her up, didn't seem to be the sort that would be open to negotiation with a human on any matter.
But he has to help. I will make this work.
He seemed pleased with her discomfort as he stared down at her, slowly looking her up and down. She felt as if his eyes were not only looking at her, but looking into her.
Can they read minds? She was sure that was not one of their talents. She had researched the Djinn extensively and there was nothing in the literature that stated they carried that ability.
Trying to regain her composure, she got to her feet as regally as she possibly could on her shaky legs. At her full height she was still close to a foot shorter than him, so she was forced to crane her head to look him in the eye. He was now standing at the edge of the magic circle; he made a few motions to enter but was unsuccessful. Each of his attempts to enter was greeted with a spark of light and caused him to wince as though he'd been stung.
He then proceeded to slowly walk around the perimeter of the circle. The image of a bird trapped in a cage as the hungry cat circled, hoping to find an opening in the cage came to her mind then. Becoming more confident, Clarissa went towards him while still ensuring the mystical barrier remained between them.
With her confidence boosted she stated simply, “I've summoned you for your assistance.”
He stared at her eye-to-eye for a long moment. Waves of red, orange and yellow swirled and flickered within his, mesmerizing her - ominous, yet beautiful. He closed his eyes a brief moment. When they reopened they looked more human, a brown so dark it could have been mistaken for black to match his equally dark short hair.
He grinned with apparent amusement at her demand. His smile revealed dimples that made his presence slightly less intimidating. He nodded, his grin not fading as he turned his back to her and headed for a large red velvet armchair a few feet away. He flopped himself into it as if he hadn't a care in the world and began scanning the small living room of her home.
Impatience began to set in as she watched him look the room over. “Well-”
His attention snapped back to her. Cocking his head to the side slightly, as if to consider her request, he remained quiet for a few extra moments as he watched her standing several feet away, glaring at him.
His smirk returned; he seemed to be amused by her.
“My help you say?” he inquired. His eyes scanned the length of Clarissa once more, pausing on her breasts before finally meeting her eyes again. "Money, power, longevity, revenge;" he cocked his head to one side as if in contemplation, his brow furrowed, then he continued, his voice dripping with contempt, "Which do you seek?"
“Yes. You are my last resort, but for none of the reasons you've mentioned,” Clarissa admitted. "
He leaned forward in the chair, his elbows braced on his knees, his fingers interlaced, glaring at her. “Why should I help you, witch?” His tone had taken on the savage hint it had when he had first arrived.
“You don’t have a choice.”
The Djinn threw back his head and laughed.
He stood and walked back over to the outline of the circle. He was just over a foot away from her. Clarissa could smell an intoxicating aroma of musk and smoke coming from him. Despite her resistance she found herself drawn to him. He emitted a raw sexual energy, unlike anything she had ever felt before, making her pussy ache and moisten.
“That’s where you’ve been misinformed, witch.” He nodded to the ring on the floor beside her. “I assume that is what you expected to bind me to?”
She knew there must be a look of confusion on her face, even without actually seeing herself. He’s bluffing. He doesn’t want to help or be bound so he’s trying to confuse me. Stick to the plan.
As if he was reading her mind. “Try the binding spell, see what happens.” The sexy, smug smirk came over his face again. He walked back over to the armchair and flopped himself back into it, crossing an ankle over one knee.
Somewhat uncertainly she asked, “Why won’t it?”
He threw his head back and laughed wholeheartedly this time. “Well... to begin with, to bind a Djinn you need to first know his name, his real name and win a challenge of wills against him. Secondly, I think you were attempting to summon a Djinn. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m no Djinn.