Incest/Taboo The Devil's Pact

And not even death shall free those bound by the Zimmah ritual. Their souls chained to the Warlock's fate, suffering for eternity with their bondsmen.

--excerpt from the Magicks of the Witch of Endor

Sunday, July 22nd, 2013 - Karen Redding - Seattle, WA

"Push, Karen!" Chantelle shouted as she gripped my hands.

I was confused, in pain. I had been in labor for hours and hours and I was so tired.

"You're almost there," Lana said, the blonde woman on my other side.

Where was Master and Mistress?

I struggled to understand, but the last few weeks had been a blur as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I didn't know where I was or, more importantly, where Master and Mistress were. I was being cared for by Lana and Chantelle, the missing sex slaves, in a strange house. It wasn't the home I recognized. It wasn't the hospital bed where I was being cared for when I first fell ill.

"Where is Master?" I would ask whenever I was strong enough to speak. But the women around me, either Lana or Chantelle or an older woman named Babylon, would deflect my question.

"Oh, you just missed him," they would say and stroke my forehead. "Now rest. You need your strength. Your baby is very important."

"How? It's Lilith's?" I remembered that much. I had hazy memories of Willow telling me Lilith's child grew inside me too fast. It was why I was so weak, the rapid growth robbing me of nutrients. "How can her child be important?"

"It is. Master and Mistress want it to be born," they all said. "So rest."

But it didn't make sense to me. Master and Mistress despised Lilith. The demon plotted against them, using them for some nefarious aim. They didn't trust her. So why was her child so important? But I couldn't think right now. The pain was so hazy.

"You need to push," Chantelle said in her French-Canadian accent. "You can do it, Karen. I know it's been a long delivery."

The contraction came on me in a wave of pain, and I pushed, straining with every fiber of my being to deliver my child. But it didn't feel right. I was so scared. Why wasn't Master or Mistress here? They cared for their sluts.

"Master!" I shouted desperately. "Mistress, I need you, please!"

"I can see the head," Lana said encouragingly. "One more push, Karen, you're doing so well."

I took a deep breath, my head swimming. I was so weak. I gathered my thoughts and concentrated. The next contraction came upon me, squeezing my insides. I screamed and pushed. The pain was so much I thought I was going to die.

"Master!" I cried out.

And then the baby was out of me. A loud, healthy cry echoed through the room. I groaned, sighed, relaxing. Everything started to grow black. I was so tired. I had delivered Lilith's child. I could rest now. My eyelids were so heavy and I didn't fight them. I was just too tired. I allowed myself to drift away.

I was falling, falling, falling.

Into darkness.

I gasped awake, the pain and fatigue gone from my body. There was neither heat nor cold. I wasn't on a bed but on something harder. Stone. I blinked as gray mist swirled over me. Every direction I looked was fog.

What was going on?

I stood up with ease. I wasn't weak any longer. I glanced down at my naked flesh, my breasts thrusting before me, my stomach smooth and flat like I hadn't been pregnant ever. I slid my hands down to my pussy. It felt normal, shaved. Was it a dream? Had I only imagined that I was pregnant and trapped away from my Masters?

Or was this a dream? Had I passed out from the fatigue of such a long labor?

I peered around. In every direction, I beheld more oppressive mist. It swirled and eddied though I felt no breeze. There were no features either. The ground I stood on was flat, gray stone. It blended into the mist after only a few feet, vanishing into haze.

"Hello!" I called, hoping someone would hear me.

Nothing.

I whirled about, straining to see something in the vast fog. But there was nothing. Just gray mist, swirling in strange eddies. I shouted again. What should I do? Maybe I should start walking? But where? There was nothing here.

I turned around slowly, creeping as I studied the fog, straining for some sign to point my way when I noticed some movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned quickly to my right, straining to see. Was something there? Was it just the mist swirling that caught my attention? I frowned, watching the pattern. No, there was something dark forming in the mist. The something resolved into a vaguely human form. I took a deep breath and started walking forward, towards the figure.

"Chasity?" I asked as the mists parted, exposing the blonde woman. She was naked, her round breasts jiggling as she walked. A sad smile formed on her lips. She was one of Master's sluts, a former cop he had dominated.

"I'm sorry, Karen," Chasity said as she hugged me. Her body was warm against mine. That felt nice. I hugged my sister-slut back with fierce joy, savoring the feel of her breasts on mine, my nipples hardening. I liked this better than giving birth.

"What are you sorry for?" I asked as she broke the hug.

"You're dead, Karen."

I blinked. "What?" That couldn't be possible. I just went to sleep. Right? "I'm just dreaming. It was a difficult labor."

"I know it was," Chasity said, heat in her voice, her blue eyes flashing for a moment. Then she grabbed my hand and led me into the mist. "We're waiting over here."

"Waiting for what?"

"Not what, who. Master and Mistress," Chasity answered. "When they die, we will be reunited with them. Until then, all we can do is wait and watch over them."

There were six other women waiting. I recognized a few as the bodyguards. They all gave me such warm smiles and hugged me. Their lips felt so nice as they kissed me. I shivered, recognizing a shared sisterhood between us. We were all bound to Master through the Zimmah ritual. United, chained to his soul.

"What is going on?" I asked as I sat down with them, Chasity on my right, a bodyguard with dirty-blonde hair and green eyes on my left.

"We're all dead," Chasity said. "But we're bound to Master and Mistress. So we wait here for them to come and collect us."

"What? Where are we?"

"The Shadows. The highest level of the Abyss, the closest to the mortal world."

"Abyss?" Once, I was a nun, Sister Louise Afra, and I knew what that meant. And then I understood. "Master's and Mistress's Pacts with the Devil. They sold their souls and are destined for the Abyss when they die."

"And we shall serve them like we did in life," Chasity said.

The other women nodded, completely accepting their fate.

I blinked. And so was I. It felt right. I was theirs. They owned me. I had submitted to them after they punished me for attacking them. I became their slut. I would always serve them. For eternity.

"And it's not so bad waiting," Chasity told me.

"No, it's not," the bodyguard purred as she leaned in and nuzzled at my breasts. "I'm 5. That's the number they gave me. Though my real name was Dove."

I groaned as her tongue licked at my nipple. It made me shudder and shiver as 5 sucked on my nipple. I moaned, savoring the sensations rippling from my nub as Chasity leaned in and nuzzled at my other nipple. She sucked on it, too.

Pleasure shot down my body to my pussy. It grew hot as I squirmed. I leaned back on my hands, smiling at the other women as they nuzzled and loved each other. No, this wasn't so bad. We would wait and be reunited with those we loved again one day.

And until then, we would pleasure each other, share in our sisterhood.

"Oh, that's nice," I purred as they both nibbled on me.

5 sucked with more aggression than Chasity. I stroked both their hairs, both blonde, though Chasity's was lighter, and savored their hungry mouths. My nipples throbbed and ached, my pussy growing hotter and hotter between my thighs.

5's and Chasity's fingers both slid down my body. They reached for my belly. I groaned, their fingers caressing my shaved vulva. I shivered as they pressed deeper between my thighs, touching my flesh. I felt freshly waxed.

That couldn't be right. I had been abed for a month or more. I should have a bush. Unless... I appeared the way I wanted. And Master loved us all waxed and smooth. Curious, I shoved my hands between Chasity's and 5's thighs, feeling their flesh.

They were smooth and wet.

"Ooh, this is nice," I groaned as the three of us leaned back onto the ground, fingering each other. Chasity had thicker pussy lips than 5. I gasped, my toes curling as their digits danced through my pussy, stroking up and down, teasing me, driving me wild.

"Mmm, yes, it is," Chasity purred, breaking the kiss. Her blue eyes widened as I shoved my fingers into her pussy. Her warm flesh engulfed my digits, clenching down on them hard.

5 kept sucking, her cheeks hollowing as she loved my nipple. She made me squirm and undulate. My entire body shook. I groaned, my eyes rolling back into my head as I squirmed. I savored her touch dancing on my flesh. I bit my lip, my body shivering.

"Oh, yes, you are so delicious," I groaned. "Just make me feel amazing."

"Good," panted Chasity. She nuzzled her nose against mine before our lips met. Our tongues danced.

Either 5's or Chasity's fingers plunged into my pussy. I groaned, the digits of both my hands jamming deep into their cunts. The other set of fingers rubbed my clit, stroking it hard, making me shiver and shudder, moaning into my kiss with Chasity.

It was so wonderful to feel pleasure again. How long had it been?

I broke the kiss as 5 nipped my nipple. "Oh, you naughty bodyguard," I panted. "Oh, I like that. Pull on my nipple."

"Yes, ma'am," 5 moaned. She nipped again, stretching my nub. My pussy clenched on the fingers in my depths. The pleasure built as the two played with my snatch, massaging clit and nub, making me tremble. "Oh, that is just perfect. Mmm, yes. Stretch that nub. Oh, I love it."

Chasity nuzzled at my ear. "Oh, you are making my pussy feel so good. You are skilled, Karen."

"I'm older than I look," I giggled. "I've been with a lot of women."

5 released my nipple, licking her lips. "Oh, I can tell. You're going to make me cum, Ma'am."

I curled my fingers, sliding through both their pussies, questing for their G-spots. I wanted to give them duel pleasures. 5 spasmed first, her green eyes widening. A moment later, Chasity groaned, her pussy clenching on my fingers.

I found them and assaulted.

Both women bucked and groaned. They massaged my clit and fingered my pussy faster and faster as I rubbed their G-spots. All three of us sang out in pleasure as we squirmed. My breasts jiggled, my pussy clenching on their plunging digits.

Pleasure swelled in me. My hips lifted from the ground for a moment. I bucked, tensing. And came hard. "Chasity! 5! You wonderful sluts!"

"Yes, cum on my fingers," Chasity moaned, jamming them deep into me. "Oh, god, Karen. I... I..."

"I'm cumming!" 5 sang.

The three of us heaved in passion. Our pussies convulsed about each other's digits. Pleasure washed through my body. My clit ached beneath 5's massaging fingers. My eyes stared up into the mist as I groaned, the pleasure burning so hot.

I wished Master could see me. Could know I was having such pleasure and was with the others. He must be so...

A window opened. I stared at Master and Mistress. They were dressed in simple clothing, almost like tourist would wear, though Mistress's shorts were molded to her plump ass and curving hips, her top clinging to her tits. A white wedding veil draped over her auburn hair.

"They're married?" I gasped. "What did I miss?"

They were on a plane. A busty woman in a slutty stewardess outfit opened the doors, her tits actually fully exposed. Sunlight poured in along with roars of protest. I followed Master and Mistress as they stepped out of their airplane before a crowd held back by police. Not US police. Foreign. They were in Europe somewhere.

France. The signs were in French.

"I can see them," I groaned as the pleasure washed over me. I could still see my Master and Mistress, watch over them, learn about the world. "Oh, and he is so handsome. He looks so different. So strong and robust. I missed so much."

But I wouldn't. I would watch over Master and Mistress from here and wait for the day, hopefully not for many years to come, when we would be reunited in death.

Mary Glassner - Paris, France

The shouts of the protesters roared over us as we stepped out of the plane.

"They do not sound happy," Monica said in her French lilt. She was a busty, dark-haired woman that served as one our two stewardesses on or private Gulfstream IV jet. The other was Lize, a blonde whose tits were equally exposed. And just as lovely.

"What do the signs say?" Mark asked, his arm hooked with mine. I leaned against him, my wedding veil resting on my auburn hair. I was here to enjoy my honeymoon. It was around noon in Paris, though it felt far earlier in the morning.

"Go away false gods. Scam. Terrorist. Things like that, sir," Monique answered. "I do not think they appreciate my outfit. Some of them are screaming whore."

"Well, we love it," Mark said as he stepped down the stairs, facing the crowds. "Quiet!"

Some did go quiet, but not all. They kept shouting, brandishing their signs. They were mostly young people, dressed not unlike hipsters back home. Those that were silent looked around in confusion while their companions kept shouting.

"I said, quiet!" Mark snarled, growing annoyed.

The auroras of those still shouting were bright silver. They hadn't been affected by his commands. But the rest of the protesters had, their auras now stained black, the sign a normal human had fallen under a Warlock's powers. My eyebrows furrowed. Why hadn't all of them fallen under our power. Was a nun here?

After a moment, I blinked in understanding. "They don't all speak English."

"Oh, great," Mark groaned. "They have to understand me? Monique, how do I say quiet in French?"

"Silencieux," she answered.

Mark said the word, badly, but it worked. They understood him well enough. The last of the shouting died. The protesters all looked around in shock. Some of their faces were still angry, while others were confused or even in awe, like they were just realizing that maybe our claims to being gods was accurate.

They weren't. But... we didn't contradict people who chose to worship us as the Living Gods. It was intoxicating being worshiped. Since Mark's shooting, the Miracle, a month ago, we had our own cult springing up, all serving us willingly. I know it was wrong but I didn't care.

Power was just so damned seductive and we had it. We may not be literal gods, but we would still make the world a better place. We would end hatred and violence. Bit by bit, we would make a utopia for all mankind.

And enjoy ourselves in the process.

Mark and I descended the ladders. The Paris police officers holding back the crowd stared at us in shock. Even they had to be quiet. We reached the bottom of the stairs, Mark walking with such a confident strut.

"Well, what a warm, welcoming greeting from the great city of Paris," Mark smiled. "I see the City of Love holds up to its reputation." He said it without any vitriol. "I am glad you have all come to see us. Mary and I are glad to celebrate our marriage in your wonderful city. Because it is the City of Love."

I glance at him and whispered, "Did April write a speech for you?"

He winked at me. April was one of our sluts and a writer. When she wasn't writing her gospel, a holy book for our followers about our lives, she was penning speeches for Mark's political campaign. He was growing more comfortable in doing it, speaking with a natural cadence after a month of giving them and talk shows. Every speech was a chance to get people to hear our message.

"And that is what brings us here." Mark put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me tight to him. "Love. The celebration of our love. And we want everyone to experience that love. To abandon hate. What good is it? Does it make you happy to yell at us? No, it doesn't. So love us."

The command rippled through the English speakers. They lowered their signs. They didn't speak, they still had to be quiet, but they now stared at us with awe or shame. Some threw down their signs. Those that didn't speak English glared at them, wanting to make sounds, to shout at their fellow protesters, but they couldn't.

"See, don't you already feel better?" Mark asked.

They nodded their heads.

"Love is such a wonderful thing," I told them, sensing my time to speak. "It's what unites you as a human. Hate is what tears you apart. Love is why we're here. To use it to make the world a better place. We're starting in America, but we'll come to Europe, too. Don't you worry. So until then, love everyone. Do not be ashamed of your desires. There is nothing forbidden between consenting adults. If you love someone, even if they are your mother, brother, father, or sister, then be with them. Love them. Isn't that so simple?"

They nodded their heads.

A few of the French-only speakers threw their signs down in disgust and marched away. They wouldn't speak for a while. I doubted Mark's command would last more than a few days. It was such a general one. Their souls would heal. But the others were feeling the weight of true commands, directed commands, reinforced by words, forever twisting their souls.

They would never hate again. And that was wonderful.

"You may speak," Mark said.

A spill of, "Sorries," and rapid French burst from the crowd. They pressed on the cops, now wanting to reach us. Worship us. I shivered and smiled at the crowd, feeling naughty rush of power. My eyes flicked through them, picking out the young, pretty girls, searching for the right ones.

I found them. A set of twins. Black hair, pale faces, cute noses. I wiggled my hips, my pussy growing hotter and hotter. "Officers, let the twins through. They just want to love us." I shivered as the cops obeyed and turned my attention to the girls. "Don't be ashamed, twins. Come forward and satiate your desires. You want to lick my pussy and suck Mark's cock."

"We do," one of the twins said, my commands seizing her. The power was so intoxicating. I shuddered deliciously.

The officers melted aside. The twins darted forward. They fell to their knees before us. "You are gods," one said, her eyes wide and dark. She knelt before me, wearing shorts and torn fishnet stockings. "Truly?"

"Truly," Mark answered her. He seized her sister's black hair. "Unzip us and love your gods. Celebrate with us. We were married last night."

I smiled as Mark's arm tightened around me. Then I groaned as the twin before me reached up. Her fingers unzipped my shorts. I loved that sound. I wiggled more as she pulled them off my hips. I didn't wear panties beneath.

"Beau," she moaned as her finger stroked my fiery bush sculpted into a heart.

Her finger stroked lower. I let out a delicious purr of delight as she stroked through my flesh. My hips swiveled as she caressed me. She parted my folds while everyone watched, even those few who still opposed us but hadn't left, their eyes wide or envious.

"Love," I moaned as her finger pushed into my pussy. "Watch as these twins love us."

"Yes," growled Mark beside me. The fly of his pants was open and the other sister pulled his cock out. She inhaled his dick, eager to worship it. The eighteen-year-old had sucked cock before. Her cheeks hollowed and Mark groaned, "Love each other."

His words rippled through the crowd. The orgy began.

I grinned, watching clothing coming off, the strangers falling on each other in lusty desire, wanting to love each other. Women gasped as they fell to their knees, sucking on cocks, their hands stroking other shafts. Other girls were on their hands and knees, sucking a cock while taking one in their pussies, being fucked hard from behind.

My pussy clenched at the hot sight. Then I shuddered, the twin licking at my clit. Her tongue swirled about it, stirring such naughty pleasure through me. I groaned, my eyes fluttering. I gripped her black hair, pulling her tight as I savored the pleasure.

"That's it, slut," I groaned, grinding on her face. "Love your goddess's pussy."

Saying those words, admitting out loud that I was special--that I deserved to be worshiped and loved--sent a hot thrill through my snatch. My pussy clenched as her tongue slid through my folds. I groaned, staring out at the worshipers. Even a few of those not under our power were caught up by the sex, one guy with a silver aura having his dick sucked by a one of our new Thralls. The cops were falling to the tide, losing their discipline, equally enthralled by our words as the protesters.

We were change. The world would one day be peaceful. Thanks to us. It was worth selling our souls for that.

"That's it, you little whore," Mark grunted. "Get my dick ready for that tight, hot cunt. Mmm, you are getting so wet for my cock, aren't you?"

The twin moaned about his dick, her hips wiggling in her tight jeans. I smiled, glancing at Mark. He grinned back at me, his blue eyes twinkling. He was having so much fun. Which was the point. We were on our honeymoon.

Nothing could ruin this.

I kissed my husband, squealing at just the thought. He was my husband now. My man. I loved him so much. My soul mate. My god-consort. I moaned into his kiss as my pussy ground on the slut's licking tongue, her finger playing with my clit.

"Love you, Mare," Mark groaned as he broke the kiss. "Time to really have fun."

"Horny stallion."

He winked at me then pulled the girl's mouth off his dick. "Slut, you and your sister both love each other. You have the hots for each other. You want to explore the taboo. Go pull down your twin's jeans and lick her ass."

She moaned something in French, her words husky and musical. Then she crawled from Mark to her twin sister. Jeans were hauled down, followed by dark panties. She spread her twin sister's butt-cheeks apart and buried her face in, licking.

The slut moaned into my pussy as her ass was licked by her twin. Incest. I shuddered as these two would learn that wonderful joy I shared with my father, mother, and sisters. I could see the slut's tongue dance across her twin's puckered sphincter, licking it as Mark moved behind her, stroking his cock.

"Fuck her," I moaned, grinding on my twin's mouth. "Fuck the slut hard!"

"Naughty filly," my husband grinned back at me.

He fell to his knees and yanked down the skirt his twin wore. Her thong came off next. Her ass looked the same as her twin's. So cute and sexy. I shuddered, lust shooting through me as Mark rammed his cock into his twin's cunt, pressing her face into her twin's ass, which pressed that slut's lips tight against my pussy.

I groaned, savoring the incestuous delight before me. Both twins moaned and gasped as they licked pussy and ass. Mark groaned, fucking his twin hard, driving the whore's mouth tight into her sister's butt crack.

"Tongue that ass, slut," groaned Mark. "Lick your sister's ass and finger her cunt."

My twin gasped into my pussy as her sister obeyed. She thrust her tongue into my depths, swirling it around, building my pleasure. I groaned, cameras flashing as the media, kept back beyond the protesters, filmed us. We would be making international news again.

I bet these two sluts would be interviewed later.

"Shit, Mare," Mark groaned. "She's got a tight, hot cunt."

"Uh-huh," I moaned, bucking and undulating. "Oh, that's so hot. Her tongue is licking through my folds. Her tongue's dancing through them. Oh, yes. Oh, wow, that's hot. Oh, god, lick my pussy. Make me cum, you nasty slut."

"Make her cum," Mark groaned. "And you, slut, make me and your twin explode."

"Oui," Mark's twin gasped, her hips rocking back into his thrust.

I gripped my twin's hair tight. She moaned and shuddered as she tongued me. Her sister's tongue burrowed into her asshole, fucking her the same way she fucked my pussy. My clit throbbed against her lips. Everyone was watching us and the orgy. Moans filled the air.

My back arched. My nipples ached beneath my blouse. I raised my hands over my head, reaching for the sky as my orgasm built and built. My twin lapped at my pussy, drinking my sweet, spicy musk. She loved it.

"Mark!" I moaned.

"Cum, Mare," he panted, his face twisting with pleasure. "Cum all over that slut's face."

"Yes!"

"Naughty filly!" Mark groaned as I came on my twin's face.

My pussy clenched.

Juices squirted from my pussy.

My body convulsed.

People cheered from the orgy as they watched their goddess cum. My vision danced. I loved it. I savored it. The slut kept licking, drinking my juices, giving me every ounce of pleasure as she squealed her own pleasure.

Both twins were cumming in incestuous passion. Mark grunted, his face twisting in pleasure as his twin's cunt must be going wild on his dick. He fucked her hard. I licked my lips, staring at him, eager for him to explode.

"Cum in her mouth, Mark," I groaned.

He grinned at me. "Twins," he panted, ripping his dripping dick from the slut's cunt. "Kneel and press your faces together. Time to be blessed by your god."

"Thank you," the one licking my pussy moaned, her face dripping with my juices.

"Jizz all over them, Mark!" I moaned, still buzzing from my orgasm.

The twins pressed their identical faces together. Mark stroked his dick. He groaned and erupted. His jizz splashed on their identical faces. He painted them. Ropy lines splattered across their faces and cheeks. He drenched them, grunting and groaning with every stroke of his hand on his dick. His back arched.

The pleasure burst from him and coated the twin sisters in spunk. Then, consumed by the incestuous passion Mark awakened in them, they kissed, sharing his jizz. I shuddered, pulling up my shorts, and moved to my husband.

"This is going to be an amazing honeymoon," I whispered, leaning against him.

Karen - The Abyss

"Yes, yes, yes," I moaned as I watched Master cum all over the twins' faces. "Now the twins are snowballing his jizz."

"That's so hot," 30 said, a Thai bodyguard with dusky-olive skin. She lifted her face from my pussy, smeared with juices. "Mark is such a stud."

"We were so lucky to be chosen," agreed 34, a black-haired bodyguard with large, pillowy tits. She hugged 8 from behind.

"It's so hot that you can see them," Chasity moaned as she ground on 78's face, a dusky-skinned Iranian with round breasts.

"What's happening now?" 22 asked as she scissored with 63.

"Yes," 63 asked, her tiny breasts jiggling as she humped back.

I grinned at them. "They're kissing. They're so happy to celebrate their honeymoon."

No, being dead wasn't so bad. Not when I was surrounded with my family and knowing I would spend eternity with my loved ones. Even Sister Theodora Mariam would join us. I had no idea she was Mistress's mother until just moments ago when I checked in on her, and I realized just who she really looked like as she cuddled to Mistress's father.

I knew one day, we would be reunited thanks to the Zimmah bond.

I could still remember the first time Theodora and I made love after I rescued her from that bastard Kurt.

"And now their limo has arrived," I reported.

"I wonder where they're heading?" Chasity said, blue eyes twinkling.

"Me, too."

Darkness and fire descended upon the City of Tacoma. The False God attacked with vain ambition.

--The Gospel of April 35:53

Monday, July 22nd - Brandon Fitzsimmons - Kurtz Farm outside Madison, WI

I stood in a pasture, awaiting sunrise.

Today, I would finally have the power to destroy Mark Glassner and rescue my poor wife Desiree from his clutches. I had spent all night Saturday and well into Sunday feverishly reading Professor Scrivener's translation of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. I had consumed it all, learning all the possibilities before me.

There were a plethora of demons to be summoned from Lucifer to Lilith, Molech and Dagon. The price for power from most of them were... daunting. But Lucifer... That was the one Mark had used. I knew it the moment I read his ritual. Three wishes in exchange for my soul. A Pact with the Devil himself.

Then I would be a Warlock like Mark. I could do all the same shit he could. The so-called Miracle was just the Tsariy spell. The red light was exactly how the book described the healing magic. And his little tricks on the talk shows were just other spells found in this book. His mind control powers were easily attributable to a wish.

And how he wasted his power. I would educate him.

A giddy rush shot through me as I stood in the field, steam rising from the ground around me as sunrise approached. I hadn't slept in two days, but I didn't even feel tired. I was too excited. The day had finally come. Everything had to work perfectly this morning. I killed Professor Scrivener very late Saturday night and no-one had found his body.

Yet.

But that would change today. The weekend was over, in a few hours students and staff would be filling up the campus. They would find his body. They would start investigating. So I could not fail. I needed to perform the summoning properly. I needed to make my Pact before the authorities tracked me down. Before Mark Glassner tracked me down. If he learned I was in Wisconsin, the bastard would send every resource he could after me. He was hunting me. He had sent Doug Allard, my P.I., after me in France.

To kill me.

Mark knew I was a threat, but once I made my Pact, I would be beyond his powers.

I would hunt him.

I had already killed the heifer in preparation of the ritual. It was why I was in this pasture. The rest of her herd had moved on, calming down after the slaughter an hour ago. My hands and clothes were splattered with its blood. I never had to kill and butcher an animal before. The cow just let me walk up to it and shoot it in the head with a rifle while it stared stupidly at me, chewing on some grass. Then I drew a knife and set about butchering the dumb beast.

It was hard work, the animal's hide was tough, but I managed to hack off a chunk of flesh from its flank. And just in time. The sky lightened as dawn approached. I lit the charcoal barbecue I had brought, almost burning my hand as the flames burst to life the moment the match landed.

"Fuck," I muttered, shaking my finger. I sucked on it. Probably too much lighter fluid. Well, better safe than sorry. I picked up the bloody side of beef and prepared to throw the hunk onto the coals.

To summon Lucifer, according to the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, the flesh of a heifer must be burnt as an offering and the correct words spoken. I hovered my hand with the steak over the grill, waiting for that first golden ray to appear on the horizon.

I trembled. My stomach twisted. Every moment, my skin felt tighter and tighter. What if the authorities were tracking me down? What if they were racing here to stop me? I was so close. So damned close.

"Rise, you fucking sun," I muttered, my free hand mopping at my balding pate. It was so warm and humid even before the sun had risen.

The sky grew lighter and lighter. I licked my lips. What was taking so long? Where was the sun? Had Mark stopped it from rising?

"Don't be crazy," I muttered. I needed more sleep. How long had it been...?

And then the sun appeared, a sliver of liquid gold bleeding atop a hill, lancing right into my eyes.

My body, coiled by the tension, sprang. The beef fell sizzling into the flames as I intoned: "The Shining One, Son of the Morning, I give this pleasing offering of flesh and ask that you appear before me."

The meat sizzled and popped as the fire consumed it, and the delicious aroma of beef filled my nose. The smoke curled and wafted, rising up into the sky as I raised my hands into the air in supplication.

"The Shining One, Son of the Morning, appear before your humble servant so that he may beg three favors from you!"

I trembled. Were the words translated correctly? Did I have to speak them in the original Aramaic?

I stared at the rising sun. As more of the golden disk rose from behind the hill, I flinched, blinded by the bright light. I held up my hand to shield my eyes.

And frowned. Was there something moving in the light? I squinted, struggling to see past the blindness.

Something was moving. It came closer.

I shifted my hand around, trying to make out what approached. Was it just my imagination? No, there was something there. Someone. I squinted, trying to make out the figure walking towards me in the glare. Was it the farmer?

Or, did the summoning actually work?

"Hello?" I asked hesitantly, fear gripping my heart and a cold sweat breaking out across my body.

"Hello, Brandon Fitzsimmons," a man said with a pleasant voice. "It has been a long time since such a fine offering has been made to me." I could hear the man inhale deeply. Despite the blinding glare haloing him, I could see a smile curling his lips as he savored the scent. "Mmm, USDA grade beef. Delicious. I so miss the old ways."

Darkness fell across me. I blinked, the sun's radiance gone. The man had moved close enough to eclipse the sun. I blinked again, a bright, blue afterimage filling my sight, making it hard to see the man for a moment.

And then he became as clear as day.

The figure was a well dressed-man in a black suit, haloed by the sun, almost like he was the sun. A dark sun that shone brightly. He was handsome with dark hair and a friendly smile on his lips. His eyes were scarlet. Ice slid across my skin as his eyes flicked up and down my body.

"I wish to deal with you, Lucifer," I said with more confidence than I felt. The Devil was real. A part of my mind gibbered.

"Of course," Lucifer smiled. "Three wishes for your soul. A fair deal, I think."

"The same deal you gave Mark Glassner?" I asked, anger flaring through me.

The Devil nodded, unconcerned with my outburst. "He is a remarkable young man."

"My first wish is for Mark to die."

Lucifer sighed, shrugged, and gave me a sorry smile. "Alas, I made an agreement with Mark for a long, healthy life. I can't just go and break my own deals. That is not good business. I think you can understand that, Mr. Fitzsimmons."

"What, I can't kill him?" I asked in surprise. "Even on my own?"

His smile turned... oily. "Well, you can try. He's already survived one assassination attempt. Of course, I never promised him a pleasant or comfortable life. Just a long one."

I frowned. Well, nothing worth doing was easy. And the thought of prolonging Mark's suffering, extending it for years and years, was a pleasant one. It warmed my body. He deserved a lifetime of agony for his crimes.

Luckily, I was a careful man. I was prepared for this setback. Nothing ever was easy. I had thought out my three other wishes. I studied the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, reading it over and over again for the last twenty-four hours. If I wished for the ability to control people, there were limitations. Mark could just override my commands with his power, or a Nun could hijack my Thralls. The only way to stop that was the Zimmah ritual, but I couldn't perform that spell without a living mother. Mine had been dead fifteen years.

But, I had an idea to get around that problem.

"Then, my first wish is to be immune to another person's magical domination." I would never be under another man's control again. I would never sit by while a man--that bastard!--stole my wife, fucked her in front of me, and sent me on my way like a fucking errand-boy.

Lucifer nodded. "A wise choice."

"Second, I wish for people to obey me unquestioningly." I took a deep breath. Hopefully, this would work. "For my third wish, I want anyone under my control to be bound to me by the Zimmah ritual."

The grin on Lucifer's face broadened. "How very interesting." He pursed his lips in consideration. "I applaud your strategy, Mr. Fitzsimmons. It has been a long time since I dealt with a mortal with such foresight. We have an agreement." There was a flash of scarlet light and a contract appeared in Lucifer's hand.

I took it from him, and read it very, very carefully. And then I read it again. I wasn't about to get caught by some fine-print trickery. My three wishes were all clearly written just the way I had spoken them. The price was my soul, cheap enough.

I figured I was going to hell anyways.

"Agreed," I said when I finished reading.

"Good." Lucifer held out an old-fashioned fountain pen and pricked my thumb. Pain flashed. A bead of scarlet appeared, the tip drinking up my blood. Then he handed me the pen.

I signed in my blood, and Lucifer signed in his.

He rolled up the contract as I shivered. "Well, I'll be going. Unless you have any questions, Mr. Fitzsimmons?"

"No," I shook my head

Scarlet flashed. He was gone, the sun shining into my face again.

"I did it," I gasped, my entire body shaking.

Relief and exultation flooded through me. A dizzy, giddy thrill shot through me. I was Mark's equal, now. I licked my lips, realizing just what that meant. People were claiming that Mark was a God. Did that make me a God?

Why not?

Mark was just some dumb kid who barely knew how to use his powers. He could be ruling the world with an iron fist instead of playing at democracy. I would school Mark on just how power should be wielded.

The crack of the gun startled me. A bullet hissed past me. The cows mooed in agitation.

"Keep your hands up, sicko!" roared a man.

I looked behind me to see a man approaching from a rust-colored pick-up truck, a rifle leveled at me. He must be the farmer, Kurtz. I didn't feel any fear despite the fact the man pointed a weapon at me and had already fired one shot.

Why should I be afraid? As if this man could harm me. I was a God.

I smiled at the man, standing confident and sure. I had power now.

"I said hands up, bastard," growled the man as he came closer.

I ignored him, movement catching my attention beyond him at the truck. Someone else had climbed out of the vehicle, standing beside it, long, blonde hair streaming behind her in the breeze. My smile broadened. I hadn't had a woman in a month or longer, not since Sister Louise Afra had exorcised me in that shitty motel room I was banished to by Mark.​