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The dark, foreboding night was chilled and seemed almost pitch black, save for the little light that shone from the sliver of silver moonlight coming from the moon high above in its uneasy boughs. In the west, however, there was a dim, orange glow from the top of a large hill which shared its spaces with a small cemetery. Above this cemetery swarmed omniscient, grey clouds that circled violently with an eerie appearance that would scare most.
Far below the clouds, on the highest point of the hill, sat a figure, stooped over a patch of dirt with bright markings that seemed to illuminate the glow that lit the figure’s face and, surprisingly, the clouds above.
The figure, a pale-skinned man, stared at the symbols with deeply-sunken blue-grey eyes, seeming to study them carefully for errors. A grave, newly planted, had the clearly-printed words: “Abby Lezlie-Larn”, along with some dates, engraved onto its stone base, and a small figure of an angel, seeming to reach out of the gravestone itself, was just above its words. The man looked up to the grave with sorrow-stricken eyes that burned with bright passion as dark brown hair wisped in his face, the wind beginning to pick up around him. His eyes showed excitement as his lips moved, words coming out swiftly-though with a slight lisp, which made it somewhat hard to understand-while he recited an ancient spell, faster and faster.
…The Previous Day…
A tall, young man of twenty-five trudged slowly and solemnly down his flight of stairs, eyes red and wet as he continued to mourn over the loss of his beloved wife, Abby. The young couple had been in deep love and had only just gotten married that August; it was now October. They were a beautiful pair, as some may have called them; Abby was an attractive girl at the age of merely twenty-three, and Henry was what used to be the dashing young man that many would have died to be with.
Abby’s death was not a pretty one; in fact, many of the rescuers warned against seeing her in such a condition, which made Henry gag and choke back tears when he finally saw her. Abby had been in a horrid car crash, only two other people had joined her in death, though Henry couldn’t care less about the others; his only concern was his wife. The morning of the dramatic wreckage-Hallow’s Eve-had been like any other, but now, it was that evening, and Henry was still continuing to sob and wallow in pain.
The next day, Halloween, a plan was concocted to bring back Henry’s wife; yes, he believed, in most of his mind, that this plan was crazed and completely irrational, but deep in the dark crevices of his less sane mind, the idea was completely logical and plausible. The idea was derived from a book he had ironically read the day just before his wife had passed on; “The Many Solutions to One’s Miseries and Woes” had been senseless at first, but now, in this frantic state, Henry was willing to try anything, especially the spell from the “magic” book called “Resurrection.” It had taken him mostly all of that day, but Henry had finally soothed his tears to a numb throb enough to begin his remarkable plan that would take shape that night.
…Returning to the Cemetery…
The stage was set, and all that was necessary now was a pinch of blood from the veins of the departed’s lover, which was easiest to obtain out of the rest of the materials.
After reciting the spell and placing one hand on the glowing symbols, Henry bit a finger on his other hand and pressed the blood from it into the soil where the lettering lied. Quickly, he glanced to his wife’s headstone and muttered her name, shouting it at the top of his lungs only a moment later, with a wide smile on his face, eye twitching in pure exhilaration.
A blinding light burned Henry’s face only moments later, causing the man to jump back with a start. From the depths of the stunning lights arose a large form that seemed to thin and take a slim, human-like shape; its head consisting of large, slitted eyes with a sinister glare. Henry’s heart skipped a beat as the figure, at least twice his height, turned its bulky head to face him, thin eyes widening in interest.
“Domo (Japanese word for “hello” in some senses)…” the creature growled out, speaking in a foreign language to Henry. It spoke more, but Henry couldn’t understand at all.
A large grin played across the being’s face, and Henry knew, by the devilish grin, filled with long, sharp teeth, was far from being human. His plan had ultimately… failed.
“W-what… what are y-y-you…?” Henry seemed to whimper out, voice almost caught in his throat.
“Ju-san …” It seemed to reply to Henry’s demand. Henry’s face turned blank as his body began to shake, he obviously terribly frightened; still, Henry did not understand what this being was saying, though he guessed it to be the creature’s name.
“W-what… w-what do y-you… w-want…??” Henry stuttered, shivering violently now as his eyes widened to dinner plates at the reply.
“Ju-san eat human soul… become whole… human die… Ju-san live,” it spoke again, seemingly attempting to speak English so Henry could understand.
Henry’s heart almost stopped at that instant as the creature emitted a dark chuckle and loomed over him, outstretching its long arms out as if to grab him right then and there. It was then that Henry stumbled upwards and broke out in a run, almost tripping as he sprinted quickly through the mounts of headstones and graves, dashing through the cemetery gate in only moments. The adrenaline pumped through his veins so fast that Henry was down the hill in no time and running through the field, screaming for help when none would be found.
The resurrection had certainly not gone as planned, and Henry’s wife wasn’t going to return to him that way. Instead, a portal to the underworld had been opened because of Henry’s failure to recite the spell correctly (his lisp caused the spell to go horribly wrong), and a demon had been released from its dark depths.
As Henry ran hurriedly along, he could hear a tumultuous noise seeming to follow him from afar, but he was too afraid, however, to look back to see what it was, fearing the worst would come undone upon him. All Henry knew was that he needed to get away from it as fast and as soon as possible, especially before the storm overhead began to brew.
It took only a few more minutes of running before he came upon the old church building, which had been deserted for some reason, and the idea of hiding in its protective boughs convinced him to hastily enter. Somehow, he figured that, even abandoned, the “spiritual powers” of the church would protect him against this… demon.
As the wind outside of the church picked up, Henry moved away from the front door and backed up into a closet, leaving it open but a crack to see what was going on. In that confined place, his reason began to return, along with his all-important sanity, but he now, all-too-late, noticed what a mistake he had really made.
Outside of the church, it began to get darker than before-seeming impossible since it was just midnight when Henry had cast the spell-and the wind was beginning to roar deeply with anger. Just then, the wind blew so hard, it struck the church’s front door, sending it slamming against the walls as it was blown in. Another hard gust from the wind, seemingly carrying a high-pitched scream with it, shut the closet door which Henry was hiding in. He almost yelped with fear as he noticed the door was strangely locked to this small, uncomfortable room. He didn’t bother yelling, for that might attract unwanted company, if it could make it through the church’s “spiritual barrier.”
Henry lied on his back in the back of the closet, waiting for anything to happen, though hoping for the best, even though his mind warned him of the worst possible. He contemplated his life, how much Abby meant to him, and his possibly soon-to-come death, caused-not by his love for Abby-but his selfishness in wanting to bring her back from her peaceful afterlife. He sighed deeply, wishing he could undo it all as hours seemed to pass; though it had only been close to half an hour.
Only when the full half hour struck was it that Henry believed that the demon had went elsewhere. On this, he was most wrong.
Footsteps creaked into the church, the storm now seeming to dull as if it was in the distance compared to the sound of the loud, quick foot falls on the hard, wooden floorboards of the old church. This is it… Henry thought with a grimace as he braced himself for the demon’s appearance. The door handle jiggled as the footsteps ceased just outside of the closet and in only a moment, the door opened to reveal……a boy.
Henry couldn’t understand it, but soon gasped in surprise as the “boy’s” eyes glowed like the creature’s had-the same piercing red-and the “boy’s” grin revealed sharp, pointy teeth.
“Domo…” he remarked, growling with pleasure.
Henry walked out of the church building calmly with a smug smirk gracing his face as he shut the church’s front door behind him. As he walked down the rocky path towards the small town ahead, his eyes glowed red and his smirk changed to a grin… with sharp, pointed teeth.