“Oh, he’s so hot,” Jessica beamed, looking into the magazine with Bridgette at her side. Amy glanced over as she finished the final coat of polish on her bright red nails. The Oregon wilderness was cold, so the three had huddled around the campfire, nursing it with sticks and pine cones.
“Look at that one!” Bridgette flicked her stiletto cut finger at a surfer with the pectorals the size of beach balls. His washboard abs glistening with sweat as he wiped his brow, “So cute.”
“Totally,” Jessica said.
“I’m bored.” Amy looked up at the sky, tucking her knees beneath her chin, “You said there would be drinks.”
“No I didn’t.” Jessica huffed, “If you have a better idea, then let’s hear it.”
Amy reached into her Michael Kors handbag, revealing a book bound in pink leather. A human skull had been covered in gleaming plastic gemstones, and the pages had pink trim.
“I brought The Book of the Dead.” Amy said.
“Reading is so lame. We’re not at school.” Jessica said, “What is it? Latin or something?”
“We summon a spirit to tell us stories!” Amy said, “We could summon boys!”
“Amy, that is…” Bridgette’s mouth gaped open, “The bestest idea.”
“Fine Amy; I’ll do it. Only cause there’s nothing better to do.” Jessica scowled.
The three girls laughed as they exited the tent. Amy opened the book, trying not to smear freshly applied nail polish onto the pages.
“First, we draw a circle around the fire,” Amy said. Bridgette started to drag her shoe across the dirt, encircling the flames.
“How can you read that?” Jessica stuck a hand in her pocket, pulling out a piece of gum.
“It’s obviously old Latin in boustrophedon script, Jessica,” Amy said.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Whatever, that’s like, the stuff Plato spoke.” Jessica said, “What do we do now?”
“We hold hands, and we speak the incantations to connect with the other world,” Amy said. Jessica blew a bubble with her gum, she popped it with her tongue, sucking the wad back into her mouth. She held her hand out, taking Amy’s hand as Bridgette completed the circle.
“Ready?” Amy looked at Jessica and Bridgette. The three locked hands, and spoke words best left unspoken.
“Don’t we need, like, the blood of virgins or something?” Bridgette said.
“That’s optional,” Amy said, then began the chant, latin filled the air like the heavy musk of morning dew. When the incantation was finished, Amy closed her eyes. The other girls copied her. She then spoke in English.
“Now, spirit, return from the abyss and walk the Earth once more!” Amy’s voice trailed with the enthusiasm of a cheerleader.
The campfire blew upwards with the fury of an undead god. A column of orange light shattered the heavens, and a gateway bloomed like morning glories burning in the fires of hell itself. A shadow appeared, creeping in from the campfire. Leather boots crunched against flame-eaten wood, sending embers cascading down the logs and the cold Oregon air filled his lungs for the first time in untold eons.
“Are you a demon?” Jessica asked, “Amy, you said it would be a spirit. This is a creature of brimstone and malice.”
“Oh my god, he’s literally on fire.” Bridgette said, “Look, he has a leather jacket. Are you from Portland?”
The man slicked his mullet back with fingerless gloves. He patted the flames from his blue jeans, kicking soot off his chucks.
“He’s from another plane of existence, Bridgette.” Jessica shook her head, “That’s, like, so much further than Portland.”
Jessica stepped away from the other girls, her bright blue eyes looking back at her from the spirit’s aviator sunglasses.
“Um, guys?” Amy called, “I think I misread the book. He’s… a real demon.”
“Excuse me?” Jessica asked. A huff was followed by a wry grin, “There’s no way. He’d have, like, horns and shit. Where’s your tail?” She rounded the man, who had left the fire with nary a burn on his body.
“He’s not red.” Bridgette said.
“Maybe he’s a good spirit.” Amy said.
The man walked. Every step he took caused the grass to wilt, the trees to sway like a deathly wind had caressed their branches. He walked away from the fire, past the small campsite the girls had built, and into the parking lot where Jessica’s white Mercedes G-Wagon was parked. He ignored the luxury SUV, disappearing into the night.
“What the fuck, Amy?” Jessica yelled, “You let him walk away!”
“Yeah, Amy! You’re supposed to bind him to do your bidding!”
“You can’t just bind a being with free will! It’s bad!” Amy argued.
As the three girls yelled at one another, the demon they released stared out from the parking lot into a new world. The cars looked nothing like they used to. None of them had the raw American steel he craved. He knew what he had to do next.
He had to find a ride.