Link to Part Three : https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/x4nzlx/a_warning_part_three/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share
Wendi and I were considered completely unemployable, as none were able to put away their apprehension of hiring two suspected witches to do even the simplest of menial labors so great was their fear of us. This left us in a desperate situation for money, something beyond even Wendi’s immense powers to summon.
Both of our parents were nervously anxious and adamant that we should leave their homes, threatening to legally evict us as soon as we turned eighteen. Finally, we had graduated but we were not invited to even attend the ceremonies, instead they indignantly mailed us our diplomas. We had but a few short months to find any means of earning money or be tossed out on the street. This greatly upset my mistress; she had no intention of leaving the town of her birth. She had just as much claim to reside there as anyone else and she was obstinate that she would stay.
When I offhandedly lamented the fact that we knew of no spell or incantations to place a mass charm or enchantment upon the populace to convince them to mindlessly dump their bank accounts in our laps Wendi’s dark eyes lit up with an intense fire. I recognized immediately that bright burning spark in her ebony eyes. She had found her new obsession.
The fixation that then occupied her intellect turned not into occult studies but instead into psychology. She had become feverish over the possibilities of hypnotism and the benefits that she could squeeze from its study.
At first, we used each other for our tests but Wendi soon found that I was too willing a subject. I was enthralled by her already and would do whatever she asked without hesitation and was excessively receptive to her suggestions no matter what she asked of me. My usefulness to her only went so far, while she practiced her cantor and trance inducing vocalizations upon me and became proficient in the proper wordings, she wanted to assay her new talent upon minds that provided more resistance.
It came as no surprise to me that she then started honing her mesmerizing talents upon her vulgar and abusive father. Since the always inebriated and ill-tempered man could not speak to her for any length of time without becoming uncivilized and start screaming filthy obscenities at her, Wendi would go into his room after he had fallen asleep to start her sessions.
Once she had sunk her hooks into his subconscious mind, I joined her in our secretive practices upon him. We made him do all sorts of degrading things for our amusement and broke down his will completely. When we tired of him he was a broken and confused shell who was on the verge of losing his job because of all the subconscious commands we implanted within him.
Wendi’s final test of her power over her shattered father came as a very public display that shocked the whole neighborhood.
On a warm summer day, in the middle of the afternoon, her father walked into the middle of the street. With a vacant look in his eyes, he raised the pistol that he carried with him and fired off two loud shots into the air, breaking the silence.
Once he had the attention of the neighbors, who had been drawn to stare through their windows at the drunk who had raised a witch, he put the barrel of his weapon under his chin. After a few seconds of trembling, obvious to Wendi and me that he was attempting to regain control of himself, his finger twitched spasmodically and it was over.
Wendi smiled wickedly as the man who had beaten and molested her crumpled lifelessly to the hard concrete after blowing the top of his skull off.
It was impossible now for any to say that the man had died by anything other than his own hand. Though most suspected that Wendi and I had some to do with his suicide, none could prove it.
The house became Wendi’s, as did the meager savings that her father had accumulated. Unfortunately, her father’s bank account held next to nothing and Wendi was forced to sell off most of her dead father’s things, including his car, to pay the death tax.
It was then that I moved in with her and it was then we truly became lovers after a drunken celebration led to her bed.
Though we had a place to stay, we still had a distressing need for money. The house was paid off but heat and electricity along with food in our stomachs became our prime concern.
Wendi and I set the whole of the basement up as our new lair of sorcery, painting the entirety of the space as black as night itself (walls, ceiling, floor and even blacking out the narrow windows) with an extraordinary work of dark art painted upon the floor. The pentagram, painted in a stark white that stood out remarkably strong against the pitch darkness of the subterranean room, was as large and detailed as we could possibly make it.
Then Wendi’s unrestrained mind came up with a brilliant idea. I had never even thought of the possibility myself and had never even heard mention of anyone else attempting what she had devised. She would use the internet to find victims to enthrall. She thought it possible that by using her sorcery mixed with her skills at hypnotism that she could transfix and control others from afar.
Wendi, as always, was completely right in her supposition. It took her no time at all to work out a way to solve our money problems. It was almost too easy for us. Sex is a great lure for many men and the internet provided her easy access to thousands of gullible and willing marks. After we acquired a webcam, we went straight to work.
Wendi and I took turns posing provocatively in the center of our demonic symbol in the basement, our nakedness luring perverted customers to us while the unseen pentagram focused our sycophantic witchcraft. We never performed any lurid sexual act for money. That was never our intention.
Once Wendi qualified a victim’s susceptibility to hypnotism, they were offered a private video chat with the both of us. If the quarry wasn’t weak to hypnosis, we quickly dropped them and moved on; there was no scarcity of prey. As soon as we found a suitable quarry, Wendi would start her spells of control and implant dirty visions of us into their impressionable minds. So enthused those depraved men were to have their nasty fantasies fulfilled, though they were all in fact illusions that existed only in their own minds, they gladly poured out their lonely life’s savings into our accounts.
By the end of two months we were well off and were at last free of any serious problems that a shortage of cash could ever cause us.
We had money then, and that only gave Wendi the ability to acquire the things that she had always desired. Of course, you should know by now that what she wanted wasn’t pretty dresses or a hundred pairs of designer shoes. What she went about gathering was a library of books on the dark arts and ancient copies of dread grimoires that were of a terrible nature.
As soon as the packages arrived, to Wendi’s extreme excitement, I knew and feared what she had set her mind upon. Books by Henry Cornelius Agrippa, Aleister Crowly, Kenneth Grant, Peter Carrol and Konstantinos with their sinister and disturbing views became her fixation.
She studied every word of their dark alternate beliefs and she quickly became a staunch believer in their theologies. Even though I quailed at her new religion, she soon convinced me of their logic. The Satanic bible became her holy creed and within a startling amount of time, she had memorized every word of the forbidden doctrine.
Shortly thereafter, we dedicated an altar in the basement and supplicated ourselves to our new master. She became the high priestess of our new coven of two, and I became her willing devotee and disciple.
There is no hope of salvation for us now. Our final destinations will be in a fathomless layer of the abyss. A plane of Tartarus that only the most warped and wicked of humanity will be confined to for all of eternity once they meet judgment. I should have feigned fear or sickness that momentous night, risked her vicious ire and run screaming into the moonlight, and never willingly given my soul to the one I have. Instead, I readily followed her down those forbidden and unhallowed paths of sorcery, certainly relinquishing any hope of a heavenly afterlife.
Knowing of my undeniable and absolute damnation grants a decadent amount of freedom in this life however. No longer need I worry about such things as morality. I can spend the preponderance of my thoughts and energies in the sole pursuit of whatever my corrupt, black heart desires, no matter how wicked or self-serving they may be. While most suffer and deny themselves the pleasures this world has to offer in fear of upsetting the commandments of some unseen and unhearing but supposedly supremely powerful God, I have no such limitations.
Whereas my own powers grew substantially after that night’s allegiance, Wendi’s doubled and possibly even tripled. The matters that I had strained at to understand suddenly became second nature to me. With the newfound knowledge, we easily refined the spells that we had for long years endeavored to learn.
Wendi’s insatiable mind never stops in its hunger. Confident with her new abilities she soon procured much more dangerous tomes for her compulsive addiction.
Soon she had managed to obtain terrifying grimoires that made my stomach quell when I read them. The Grand Grimoire, The Greater Key of Solomon the King, Lemegeton (Lesser Key of Solomon) and the Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage written by Abraham of Worms became her new fascination and she poured over them nonstop for weeks.
I knew what she was about to attempt and she knew my fears. She was obsessing over the fact that whilst our patronage to the dark lord had granted a great boon to our supernatural adeptness, they would grow even stronger if we could find a personal patron devil to align ourselves with.
I remember clearly, when things started going horribly wrong. I awoke one day to find Wendi in a state of nervousness that I had never seen her in before. If something was bad enough to make my stalwart mistress visibly shake with fear then there was something very wrong indeed.
She was obviously distressed about something and I was horrified to hear what had happened. In the small hours of the night, whilst I slept, Wendi had begun experimenting with the dangerous rituals to evoke a devil. She had actually summoned a powerful fallen one, which was quite an accomplishment in itself, and had been almost at the end of her bargaining with the dread demon when she realized she had made a grave and terrible mistake in her wording.
The fact that one must be very specific wasn’t lost on Wendi, the entire treatise she had studied reminded her repeatedly of this fact and though she had thought out her words ahead of time, she failed in one important but disastrous way. She wanted this potent and dominating being to apprentice her and teach her everything he could of the dark and sinister ways of sorcery and lay bare the hidden rules that make up the universe itself. What she didn’t specify was where. A supposition upon her part that was the one flaw in her dark pact.
When the malicious hell confined fiend eagerly agreed and reached out through the nether separating the worlds to drag her into the flaming abyss itself to begin her lessons, Wendi panicked at her mistake and quickly broke the spell.
It was too late though, the deal had been agreed upon and Wendi told me she could sense her new master trying to tear through the fabric of time and space to pull her down into the underworld.
Wendi was constantly looking over her shoulder that day and a sheen of fretful sweat beaded her body as if she had a fever. We made plans that I was to summon her from whatever realm she would be dragged to as soon as I was possible if she were to disappear one day. We even went so far as to collect hair, nail, blood and some personal possessions she had held dear and locked them in a strong box along with everything that I would need to affect her evoking from even hell itself. With these things buried in a secret spot for safe keeping Wendi felt confident that her almost assured imprisonment in that fiery nightmare would be hopefully short.
Unfortunately, it has been many months since I had been ‘railroaded’ with her murder. I am terribly anxious for my governess and hope she understands how difficult it has been for me to collect the items I require to escape from this prison. Nonetheless, she shall be free tonight.
As soon as the sun fell and the moon arose the whole atmosphere of the house changed. There came a cloying and thick miasma of shadowy smoke that wafted up from the basement that brought with it the distinct and powerful scent of brimstone.
We tried to leave but found the doors and windows sealed tightly shut and though we hammered and attacked them with everything from our fists to heavy pieces of furniture, not even one glass pane suffered a single crack or scratch.
When something, and I do believe it was one of the devil’s minions that Wendi had made her dread barter with, came rushing up the basement steps Wendi produced the gun that her father had used to publicly kill himself with and held it in shaking hands.
What appeared could only have been a ‘succubus’ as it was a demon in the form of a woman. The vile thing had fine sharp teeth and claws that were long and wickedly curved. While its face and body was defiantly beautiful, there was a clear demonic manifestation to its features that told us clearly that this was a thing of nightmares.
Wendi didn’t hesitate to shoot the monstrosity, placing three well-aimed shots to its unholy body. As the gunshots echoed deafeningly in my ears and the repulsive creature crumpled to the floor, Wendi fired desperate shots at the living room window in the hopes that the bullets would shatter the unnaturally and spellbound glass. The impacts did nothing except to send the shots ricocheting wildly around, barely missing us.
Great screams of souls in torment could be heard, getting ever louder as if one were slowly turning up the dial on a hellish speaker system and there followed a large number of fearful footfalls speedily running up from the basement.
Wendi had spent her last bullet at the windows in vain and was desperately trying to reload the weapon but in her fearful tremors, she fumbled the firearm and it tumbled across the floor.
A myriad of terrible and grotesque monstrosities burst forth from the basement then and as I frantically lurched towards the fallen weapon, the fiends were already upon us. The speed of the vile creatures was phenomenal; before I could even touch the gun, they had grabbed both of us.
With an all-encompassing terror, I thought for sure they would rip me to shreds or drag me down to hell with Wendi but they didn’t. They came for one soul and one soul only. They came for Wendi and they held me tightly and painfully down, my terror so great that I unknowingly loosed my bowels.
I remember the fear and pleading in Wendi’s voice as she begged to be released from her damnable bargain. I could do nothing and the last I saw of her, as they carried her petrified and terror-stricken with tears running freely down her cheeks, were her dark eyes as they bore into mine.
Her screams mingled with the chorus of the other damned voices and as soon as she had been taken to her new foul abode to begin her apprenticeship, the horribly repulsive abominations that held me simply faded into nothingness within a single heartbeat.
My horror wasn’t over then as I quickly smelled and saw thick black smoke billowing up from the basement to replace the thick and vaporous dark mist that had heralded the opening of the portal between hell and earth. A huge and intense fire had started that spread so rapidly that by the time I went to the door to escape I could feel the heat under my feet.
Thankfully, the impenetrable spell of containment had dissipated and the door opened without any resistance. Once the outside air rushed into the room from the now, open door everything flashed over in an explosive conflagration of flames that sent me scrambling for my life into the cool night.
Outside there were different beings waiting to capture me. The street was awash in police lights and sirens that I never had heard or seen while trapped inside the house. The neighbors must have heard the gunshots and subsequent screams and called the police immediately upon hearing them.
I am sure the sounds of hell itself manifesting in a house occupied by two suspected dealers in witchcraft upset the whole of the neighborhood. Before I was rendered unconscious by a fearful faced police officer’s gun butt to the back of my head after he snuck up on me from behind, I saw a crowd of people standing well back from the fast burning structure that had produced the sounds of terror that scared them straight to their mortal souls.
When next I awoke I was bound and gagged, tied to a restraining chair that allowed no real movement. They were terrified that I would use my sorcerous skills to charm them or otherwise affect my escape then, so they hated the thought of my even speaking and only ungagged my mouth that I could eat. So afraid of me the town was that within a week they had charged me with Wendi’s death, arson and a whole slew of false charges and concluded my preliminary hearing that sent me over to the state penitentiary until my trial.
The charred remains of the demon succubus were declared to be Wendi’s and the gunshots were supposedly the sounds of our love affair gone wrong. They had come up with the story that I had jealously murdered Wendi and then set the house ablaze to cover my foul crime. The screams were proof that I willfully and premeditatedly took my lover’s life in my rage and that I had coldly tortured her as she lay dying.
Oh, how they slandered Wendi and I at my trial. I am still in shock at how quickly the court arranged the legal proceedings. Within three months, I was charged, sent to trial and convicted with a life sentence without the possibility of parole. The whole town seemed to appear as witnesses to defame me and spread so many lies about us that the jury absolutely despised me and called me an example of human depravity that should never get the chance to see the light of day again.
I guess I am lucky that this state has no death penalty, as they would have surely demanded that but it doesn’t matter anymore.
Tonight my cell mate will claw open her own jugular veins upon the pentagram I have drawn in crayon on the grey painted cement floor to power my spell of transference.
Do you remember how I spoke of the mystic symbol of the five-pointed star being also a devise of teleportation from one place to another? While our house, with its precise pentagram painted in the basement may have been destroyed, there is another in an old and dilapidated farmhouse that still exists. Even if you whom read this do discover that abandoned and isolated place, it will be too late, just as it is for the poor woman whom I have taken months in preparing. As soon as I arrive there, I will bring my mistress back from the depths of whatever horrible abode she has been taken to. Once she is freed, she and I will take our revenge on the entire fetid town of our birth, have no doubt.
I quiver with anticipation on discovering all she has learned in her dark tutelage under her eternal dark master’s teachings and I will gladly share her new dread spells with you personally.
As for the pitiful creature that I have enthralled and ensorcelled to provide the blood and life force that, I require affecting my escape, fear not for her. She will experience no pain in her death, she will not even be aware of it. I have broken her will utterly and though I must admit that I used her for much pleasure in the deep dark of the prison nights, she now lives in a perfect and peaceful place that resides in the endless fathoms of her own mind.
The time is near, but before I make my final preparations, I warn you again. I will not brook any further interference by unbelievers that stubbornly refuse to recognize the truth of magic’s reality. I will not hesitate to kill anyone that gets in my way ever again. You have been given your final notice.