Before attempting this, please read through to the
end. Make sure you understand the risks and are
willing to pay the price of admission.
Above all else, you must concentrate, must focus.
You must not allow yourself the self- indulgence of
thinking about what you're doing, Such reflection
will wake the logic we've cultivated as a species to
banish the darker realities, and after all, we're not
interested in logic; it's magiek we're after here,
aren't we?
Magic is belief, not ritual. Ritual is nothing without
belief, an empty vessel, and for that reason, any
ritual, no matter how simple, will sullice. It is the
belief that matters, the font from which the magic
shall flow into this tiny container we'll soon build.
Concentrating? Mind clear? Good. Let's begin.
For the purposes of our simple ritual, all you must
do is find a space where you can sit comfortably for
a while any time afier sunset. For safety's sake, you
should have no walls or portals of any kind nearer
than twice your arm's reach from you. Some arms
are longer than others. Clear your field of vision of
any mirrors and other highly reflective surfaces.
Lastly, turn off all the lights. If this is inconvenient
for some reason, just make sure you're somewhere
with a door that closes you off from the light. They
aren't a big fan of the light.
We're calling back an old friend of yours, one you
never understood. It used to visit you in the dark of
your room, to whisper to you from the shadows of
basements and the tops of darkened stairways.
Invest your belief in this ritual and it will summon
up your visitor.
Now recite the following poem:
My gldest fiiend, so long ignored. Come back to me
from the night's dark shore. My invitation I renew
That I might spend this night with you
Repeat this poem until you establish a consistent
rhythm. Tap out its beat as you recite it. Once
you've gotten it down, you should only have to
repeat it a few more times before you sense a
change in the room. It could be almost anything:
breathing besides your own, a drop in the
temperature, creaking floor boards, a susurrus of
movement.
Most commonly, you'll just know that you're no
longer alone.
Once this happens, remain quiet, remain still. No
matter what you hear, no matter what it might say,
do NOT turn to look at it. Visitors are bound by
Laws far older than the laws of nature and much
more profound. These same Laws protected you as
a child, but sadly, some no longer apply. Visitors
are bound to us from our birth until our death, so it
has been denied your nourishing fear for a good
many years, kept at bay by the faux light of rational
thought, a flimsy shield you've dared to cast aside.
It's weak right now, but that doesn't mean it's not
dangerous. It’ s hungry.
What follows could last minutes, it could last hours.
Console yoursself with the knowledge that the
longest it can possibly continue is until dawn. It will
offer you anything you want if you’ll only look. It
will beg, it will howl and scream and roar. It will
creep up so close that you will feel its icy-corpse’s
breath on your neck. Keep repeating “Ask and I shall
answer.”
Eventually, it will pose its riddle. Except it’s not
truly the Visitor’s riddle. It’s yours. If you’ve lived
your life with your eyes mostly open, if you've been
paying attention to the subtle play of synchronicity
in your life, the answer will come to you almost
immediately. If it doesn't, you have until dawn to
answer. It shall never be asked again. Like all good
riddles, the correct answer will be self-evident.
If you answer correctly, the Visitor will then set a
task for you. Once it does, wait until you no longer
sense its presence before moving from your seat.
The task will always be something totally outside
your character, but there's no time limit and you get
as many chances as you need to complete it. Once
you do, congratulations! You've passed your first
test.
If you look at your Visitor, there’ s nothing more to
be done for you. It's already walking around in your
skin, drinking in the sweet, sweet nectar of your
silent screams. In time, your screams will fail to
satisfy and some day we’ll read about “your”
atrocities.
If you fail to solve the riddle, you'll learn to sleep
with the lights on soon enough. In fact, you'll find
that afier a brief adjustment period you can get by
with almost no sleep at all.
You'll have to.
YOU ARE READING
Horror
NouvellesCreepypastas about ghosts, beings, animals, paranormal activities, military weapons, computers, haunted places, etc. So read it and don't forget to vote or comment my story.