"You stupid God forsaken Wiccan's can't do anything right. Your ancestors were much more powerful." The Wiccan's couldn't find that damn destruction spell.
"Sir, sir we found it." One wiccan opens yet another ancient spell book. A book from Salem more than likely written by her ancestors.
"Well, you're not as useless as the rest of them. Gold star." A golden weaved pentagram brands into the Wiccan's neck. A brand that he has claimed her specific talents.
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The women cringes yet shows him the spell anyway. He leans over her shoulder and reads over the words. The words can only be spoken for evil on a new moon.
The words etch themselves in his brain. Four hundred years he has waited for this moment. He will get the eleven pages in each dimension. He will not die like last time. He refuses.
He claws at the cage in my head. He roars in pure anguish at the thought of having to wait four more days. Four more days untill he's fully resurrected. Not riding around in a pathetic human form.
☆☆☆☆☆☆ 4 Days☆☆☆☆☆☆
"Et est realis. Scriptum est in manu mea. Disperdam" The human gives the monster the key to his cage, and he burst free. The body storing the monster explodes from the inside out. Blood splatters the walls of the small room with the skylight.
In the place of the human is now a tall man with hair as dark as the place where his soul should be. This is Alvah Mauro. This is me.
Waving my hand, a red woven pentagram is placed on the floor. Candles place in each point. Ingredients mixed, and incantations said.
A demon appears in the center. Eyes black as coal, and a grotesque body dripping black goo. The suffer smell suffocating.
"Get the troops ready. We take the first dimension two days from now." Flicking my hand, the lower level disappears.
I will get all eleven pages of God's spell book. I will rule.
