Dunst Till Dawn

The Quest for The Last Book of King Soloman Part 3

The Necromancer, the man his soldiers knew as Francis Xavier, their leader, was far away from the church when the attack happened. He was off getting a hot cup of coffee, as was his usual habit. Not at the Starbucks though. The town had gathered around it and basically unofficially banned him from it. So instead, he had to go find some other small coffee shop where no one would know who he was. Or what he was.

The news of the attack traveled fast though. And upon hearing of the demonic attack upon the city, The Necromancer made his way to the closest cemetery. 

His students needed him. They had been preparing for this day, and now it was upon them. And he was going to do his best to help them and give as much support as he could.

Once at the cemetery, he started walking around in a circle, laying out twigs and rocks in the shape of a star, (or at least the shape known as a star, even though, in truth it looked nothing like a real star). It was a shape known as a pentagram. And once it was formed, he drew a circle surrounding it. 

He stepped into the middle of that circle, with a brown cardboard box held within his hands. And then he placed the box down on the ground. and slit his own wrist. Letting his blood drip into the ground within the circle, for he knew that the demons that he was summoning were attracted by blood, and the taken of life energy.

But for as many demons as he wanted, he knew his blood wouldn't be enough. And so, he took off the lid of the box, and inside of it, were hundreds of rats that he had gathered for this very moment. He preceded to murder them all one by one. Their little squeaks for mercy being callously ignored. A great bloody rodent massacre. He then poured their red blood out of the box like red rain falling to the ground before him. Then he dumped out the box, letting all the rats' lifeless corpses fall to the now blood-soaked ground.

He was playing with fire. He knew that. He knew that messing with demons was not something one would be wise to do. There were many ways that it could go wrong. He wasn't ignorant of that, or over-confident. He knew how dangerous what he was doing was. He had been doing it for multiple millenniums. If anyone could be considered a master in this field of dark magic, it would be him.

But this wasn't something one mastered. It was dangerous still. Even now. Just as it was the first time that he had tried it. He knew that. He knew it better than anyone. He was, after all, the very first human to ever try to control a demonic spirit. Or an angelic one for that matter. Or even a neutral spirit. They were all basically the same thing. Their alignment was the only main difference.

Well, that and the fact that a holy spirit would never take over the body of a once-living being. Even a neutral spirit would be unlikely to do something like that. But a demonic spirit would jump at the chance. That was why necromancy was a dark art. The spirits that you dealt with, were often the evil ones. And of course, they were often untrustworthy. And always were trying to out trick you.

He looked down at his right hand to make sure that the symbol that he had carved into it was still visible and not distorted in any way. He had literally carved the symbol into his very hand a millennium ago. The original ring that he had carved the original symbol into was just too easy to lose.

He had to keep re-carving the wound ever so often to make sure it always stayed fresh. If it was defective, then the seal wouldn't work, and then hell could literally break loose. The demonic spirits wouldn't be under his control. And that would be very bad.

It was a very powerful seal. His seal. One that he himself had created. It was a hexagram star with a circle surrounding it, and little dots between each of the star's points. A symbol known around the world as The Seal of Solomon.