Writen by Elphillius Duck – Age 15

Et ad congregandum, eos coram me

Amy dropped the match in to the bowl with a flourish as she finished the incantation. Silence followed.

The kind of silence that made you want to curl up in a blanket and pretend with all your heart that you were safe and sound. The flickering light of the flames cast sinister shadows on the walls of the empty warehouse, revealing garish graffiti that had been painted on every surface, including even the floor in some places. Gang signs, random art, something resembling a moose head. Anything you could think of, someone at some point had drawn it on these walls.

Amy pulled her jacket tighter, shivering in the late autumn air. She heard the wind rustling the leaves outside and rattling the metal roofing where it had eroded enough to leave holes that moonlight could stream through. The cold silvery light contrasted greatly with the hungry, scorching flames within the bowl.

Distant sounds of small rodents shuffling around in the leaves reached her ears and brought another shiver up her spine. A shiver of fear, and loneliness, and the thought that no one would come, even though she had been assured that the one she knew would show.

Amy was almost ready to give up, past the point of unnerved and halfway through thoroughly creeped out, when a voice like the cold outside came from behind her.

“I do have a cell phone, you know.” The sound of footsteps. One, two, three, four. Whoever it was, they were behind Amy now. “I gave you my number.”

Amy’s breath hitched and she turned on her heel, slowly, to face her cohort.

She was a slender woman, but not in an attractive way, more in a way that suggested she had been malnourished for a long time, anorexic, almost. Her hair was a brown that caught the firelight in an odd way, making it seem golden in places. She wore a completely black suit, complete with a black button up and everything. The only thing that wasn’t black were her shoes, which were blue and white sneakers with duct tape across the top of one. The shoes looked very out of place in comparison to the rest of the outfit.

The woman’s gaze was one of mild amusement and slight curiosity, and it was a light blue color- That is, until she blinked, and they became a shifting red that enveloped her entire eye, iris and all

Amy shuddered visibly and the woman smiled wryly.

“You did call, dear. What is it you want this time?” The woman’s voice was cool, like rain against hot skin. Sharp, but it also felt nice.

Amy swallowed hard, balling her hands into fists. She took a deep breath through her nose, fighting to speak through the fear that had swiftly choked her at the sound of that voice.

“We-” The woman started, but Amy cut her off.

“I need your help.”

“Oh? You, need my help?”

“Yes, Lakorus. I need your help.”

“You don’t have much left to offer me, dear..”

“I do! I…I have something.”

“And what would that be?”


Amy turned her back on Lakorus, leaning down to grab hold of a potato bag and lifting it. The contents of said bag clicked against each other as it was brought up between the two of them, Amy holding it out almost like a shield. Which it, effectively, was.

Lakorus’ gaze flicked from Amy’s face, to the bag, and back again, the only change in her expression being that the wry smile faltered.

“And where did you get those?”

“Lake View Cemetery. Where they were buried.”

Lakorus muttered something about the fact that they should have been burned in the first place under her breath, then returned the wry smile to her face. “Fine. Hand them over, and I’m yours.”

Amy narrowed her eyes, hesitation making her pull the bag back slightly.

“Do you not trust my word?” Lakorus asked.

“Not as far as I can throw you, to be honest.” Amy said slowly, unsure.

“Would you like to try? Throwing me, I mean.” Lakorus said with a little snicker.

“No thanks.” Amy said, and Lakorus shrugged. “Suit yourself. Now- how about we get on with this deal?”

“Fine.” Amy said, thrusting the bag out toward Lakorus, who reached out a reverent hand to take it from her, moving it with such care that if Amy didn’t know better, she might have thought the contents of the bag was a small child. Lakorus set it down in front of her, grabbed the opening with both hands, and pulled it open, peering in. A soft sound that was a mix of a gasp and a sigh of relief escaped the woman, and then she closed it again quickly, as if concealing some great secret. Her air of complete calm crumbled, making her look oddly vulnerable as she stood there gazing at a potato bag of bones.

Amy watched her intently, relaxing only when Lakorus straightened up and regained her composure, and she was sure that Lakorus wasn’t going to lash out and strike her down there and then.

You never knew with demons.

“As you were saying, Amelia?”