Let’s get the obvious out of the way. I’m a screwup. I make bad decisions. Calm down this isn’t going to devolve into some crying bitch post. I am just trying to add some context because without that you will probably spend a lot of time wondering what the hell was she thinking.

This is a short preamble to me explaining I joined a cult. Yes, a cult, cult. No, you haven’t heard of us, we were not that important. At the height, we had twelve members total. No, it wasn’t a doomsday cult. It was based on expanding our collective mystical powers. Yes, weird sex stuff happened. No, I am not going to describe the weird sex stuff. Go to pornhub and search for whatever you are into. That will make you happier anyways.

So, the big thing to also remember is like almost every other cult, this one was centered around one charismatic guy, Devin. He had this strange way of just sort of getting people to do what he wanted. He would say something like,” Nice jacket! I really like how it looks. It is a nice color. You should give it to me.” and well… over half the time, people would give him the jacket. He would do similar tricks with money, drugs, and sex. I can say it now, Devin was not a good guy, but at the time I was convinced of the opposite. I would have done anything for him. Debase myself, hurt others, and even die for him. That isn’t an exaggeration. I dedicated my whole life for Devin. Then things went to shit.

Let’s back up a minute. Devin claimed he got his power from a book called The Dictatum Corvum. According to him, that was the book of the raven. An ancient mystical tome from the era of the Roman Empire. It was a small black leather book with strange aged pages. The cover had silver plates bent around the corners and some sort of emblem was carved into the leather. Devin loved that book more than anything. That said he would show it was real by tossing it into a fire. The book wouldn’t even singe.

He would show it to anyone he told about his great powers, but he seldom let people read it. The book was dangerous he would say. Most people that looked into the pages didn’t like what they found. Many would become ill after thumbing through it. Others would obsess over the book. Then there were the rare cases. I know of three people who after reading the book killed themselves. Last were the three of us who gained magical powers.

Besides Devin, Marco, Fin and I gained something from the book.

Devin let me read the book almost as a joke. We had taken some pills and most of us were acting a bit silly. He tossed it to me and said, “Veronica, dare you cross the threshold? A word of caution. You do not read the book. The book reads you.”

Touching it was like taking someone’s hand. Despite having sat in a cold room it had a feverish heat to it.

I opened it and… maybe it was the drugs kicking in, but everything went black. I was stuck in an infinite, lightless void. I was frozen because time had stopped. Then it saw me. two golden eyes appeared in the dark. You can tell a lot about someone from looking into their eyes. One glance told me, whoever this was they were fucking mean. Not violent, not hateful, mean. Like a cat playing with a mouse. Whatever it was going to do would be for its amusement.

“Well look at you,” a deep male voice said. A wicked glee twisted the words almost into a sing-song cadence. “Do you know how long I have waited for someone like you? Please guess.”

“Uh, like a hundred years,” I answered feeling a slowly increasing pressure of this thing's attention. It begin to weigh me down.

“A hundred years,” It said with a laugh. The eyes glittered with amusement, “Try twenty-seven. Someone like you Veronica is rare, but not unique. We are going to have some fun together. Now, I am going to need to you be patient. Things like this do take time. First, though, a little prophesy for you. On the night of a lunar eclipse, you will be bathed in the blood of you and your own. That is the day you will meet my disciple in his realized glory. That is the day this life of yours ends.” The eyes moved up and down like whoever this was had nodded. “Now that probably sounds upsetting, but the important thing is you can’t stop it.”

“What are you?” I asked.

“I am one of the eight pillars that holds up this world you live in,” it said. “I am also now your teacher. You are reading my notes after all. Magic is such a beautiful thing. The more rules you build into it, the more it runs free. I think you are the sort that craves attention. Like most you want to be beautiful, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” I asked. Most of you realize that was the wrong answer. Some of you have probably already figured out, there was no right answer.

The smile it gave me was…evil. I don’t have a good way to describe it. Think of the taste of sour milk and turn it into a feeling in your bones. That is what the smile exuded. It wasn’t good is what I am saying.

Then I was in the room with the others again. Somehow, they were all looking at me. it wasn’t just that they were looking at me. The way they were looking at me changed also.

They wanted me.

It wasn’t just them either. Literally, everyone I met after that thought I was beautiful. Suddenly I could have almost anything with a wink and a smile. Some things did take a bit more, but it was quite the trip nonetheless. Whoever was in the book may be mean, probably evil, but they had been right. I did want to be beautiful.

Devin started getting a bit colder with time. I was never his favorite before that, but now he almost seemed intimidated by my beauty. So, he would test me. ask me to do things for the group, or to amuse him.

That is how one night I ended up uploading a picture of my tits to a message board. That wasn’t exactly a crazy move… for me. Until the guy responded to me by name. That scared me, but Devin was intrigued. He started messaging the OP.

Nightlord

How do you know people’s names?

Michael Trace

Devin, I am using magic.

Mike

Nightlord

You don’t have to sign all of the posts. These aren’t letters. What sort of spell are you using? A dark trigram?

Michael Trace

Thanks for the advice. This whole internet thing is new to me. Where did you hear of dark trigrams, and why do you think that is how magic works?

Nightlord

I have my sources: old books and whatnot.

Michael Trace

Devin,

Be extremely careful of magical books. Most of them have backward ideas that will cripple any magic you have. The rest are usually just traps. They will always guide you to some ritual that will pull a predator right to you. If you post your address I will be happy to look at it for you.

Nightlord

No thanks. I know what I am doing. The Dictatum Corvum is legit. Nice try though.

Michael Trace

Devin I do not use the word lightly. That book is Evil. It exists to harm people I know you read it. There is nothing either of us can do about that, but do not show it to others. Please post your address. I can help you. We will have to take the book away. Please post for the sake of those around you.

Devin laughed and pointed at the screen, “This, this! I knew I could wind him up.”

“That's great,” Hector agreed.

“I think we should quit talking to him,” I said quietly. I recently learned when I spoke softly people were more inclined to listen.

“Oh?” Devin asked a grin curling his face. “Is this not fun for you?”

“If he can figure out our names, he must have our address. He knows where we are. Maybe, if he is being honest about magic, which I believe there is a chance, the posting of our address lets him appear near the place faster. Not posting where we are is just going to make him take the long way.” I explained.

The grin slid off of Devin’s face. “Fair point Veronica. I guess we are just going to need to be ready for when he gets here.”

Like any good cult, we had weapons. Like most cults a lot of them were impractical. I had a sword. It was a big hand-and-a-half thing, and while it was an actual sword, I had no experience with it. I also had a .38 revolver, that I had some practice with but I had no confidence I would be of any use in a fight.

Devin was the one that got spooky he spent three days reading the book. On the morning of the fourth day, he told us, “It will happen on the night of the eclipse. He will arrive and try to take what is ours. I have constructed a ritual that will give us the strength to destroy this Michael Trace.”

The others cheered, but I felt an iron fist wrap around my stomach. So lunar eclipses happen all the time. You don’t need to tell me that. Since the prophecy, I had seen four of them. Somehow this felt like it would be THE lunar eclipse. I approached Devin when the others were not around, “I think we should run.”

“Veronica, why don’t you have faith in me?” Devin asked. He closed the book.

“I looked through the rest of that post, did you see what happened in New Delhi? Whoever this guy is he is not afraid to slaughter people.” I explained. “We could probably take him, but not without casualties. We can just pack up and set up elsewhere. You said you wanted to go somewhere with beaches.”

“That is a sound suggestion,” Devin admitted. “I worry about how the others would see this. I have made it a point of offering them safety. Fleeing could be seen as stating that I cannot shelter them. Not all are as centered in the faith as I would hope. It may not be as simple as moving. It may be leaving some behind.”

“Is that really the biggest loss? Hector, Marco, and I are with you till the end, and we are the only ones with any power anyways. We could always find new sheep.”

Devin nodded, “that has promise. I will make arrangements. Don’t tell the others. We will head out on the day of the eclipse. Get all the money together. Let’s head to California.”

It sounds dumb now, but I really thought Devin was on board. I showed up with a van and about seven million dollars in cash. I don’t want to brag, but I was crazy pretty and figured out how to use that. I walked up to Devin’s house and opened the door. Hector bashed me on the head with a fire poker. That right there nearly killed me. Turns out that part of whatever it was that made me pretty, also made me super aware of my body. Like I knew exactly what the smoking was doing to me. trouble was I also knew the mechanisms of chemical interactions that made me addicted.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Basically, the hit gave me a hell of a concussion. I also was going to have some degradation of motor skills forever. Partial recovery was possible over the next few years. Trouble was getting there. The hit did knock me out. Most books and movies do get it wrong. You aren’t out for hours or days. It is most of the time less than a minute. So, while I quickly regained consciousness the pain of the horrifying head wound forced me to curl up in a ball. I was dragged to the garage. Oh shit. They had made an alter out of the workbench. And they had painted the damned trigram on the floor. It was the one from the book.

The smell hit me. it was blood. Oh god, they had killed the others! I was tossed onto the workbench. They looped a bike lock over my neck and another on my ankles. I wanted to talk but just weakly coughed.

“No no,” Devin said. He wore a black robe and had a knife in his hands. He put a finger to my lips, “Don’t speak. Now you are probably wondering, why am I doing this? The answer is simple. Magic requires sacrifice. Now the Dictatum Corvum is quite specific. The best way to power is to build a crop of others and then harvest. You are right I am probably not strong enough to beat this Michael Trace in a fight, yet. Like you said I can always find new sheep.”

That is when the garage door was ripped out of the wall by thousands of shadowy hands. Two golden eyes glared from what seemed to be an infinite darkness.

The voice that spoke was not the same as the one from the book. There wasn’t that mean edge. This did have enough barely contained rage though that it still scared the hell of me.

“All of you, drop your weapons,” Michael Trace growled.

“Or else what?” Marco said as he raised his gun.

Two gunshots rang out. The first bullet hit Marco between the eyes. He jerked and the second slammed into his jaw and tore it off. I screamed. Hector screamed too.

“You do not get it,” Michael said the darkness faded slightly and a tall man wearing all black clothes stepped into the garage. “I am not the one threatening you here. My extremely excitable and reactionary friend, Briggs, over there is. “

A bear of a man in also dressed in dark clothes with a tactical vest stepped into the garage. He held a pistol in both his hands. He pointed it vaguely between Devin and Hector. “I will not warn you again.”

“Is that what you call a warning?” Devin asked. Despite the gun, he did not show a hint of concern.

“Not really,” Mike admitted. “You see. The issue is you kids stepped into a big mess. That book you have was written by the worst man I ever met. It exists to spread pain and suffering. I can see it has put hooks in all of you already. Not going to lie. That’s bad. That is like stage four cancer bad. Now, if you give us the book, one of the best magic tricks in the world happens. You change from dangerous criminals into lost kids who need help. Take that deal Devin, it is the best you are going to get.”

“Fuck this!” Hector shouted; he waved his hand “Morte!” I had seen this before. He could wave his hands and say the words and small creatures would die. I saw him kill bugs, mice, and a dog. Seeing things like that made me always be polite to Hector. The idea was if I was nice to him, he wouldn’t hurt me. Sadly, that did not stop him from clobbering me with a fire poker earlier.

When he did this there was normally a ripple in the air. The wave of … hatred I guess would hit the target and they would often vomit blood. Not this time. This time the pulse just faded a few inches from his hand.

“Hector, do not do that again,” Michael said. Anger flared in his voice. “Any work you weave, I will pull apart.”

“That’s not possible,” Hector shouted back.

Michael blinked at him, “Then how did I do that?” he shook his head, “Wyldkinder are awful about this. They are convinced they are the only ones that ever learned magic.” He turned to Briggs, “It is so short-sighted.”

“Focus,” Briggs said covering both Hector and Devin.

“Right,” Michael agreed. He straightened his posture and his eye fell on Devin, “Call off your friend. Nobody here wants any more violence.”

“So says the Trace?” Devin asked. “Do you really think that title actually makes you important when The Eight exist?”

I had no idea what any of that meant but I knew if I read the book again, I would learn more. Which would have been fascinating but I had a bike lock around my neck and a knife to my throat.

Michael sighed. “Drop your weapons, now”

When Brigg’s gun drifted towards Devin, Hector struck. He threw the fire poker at Michael and thrust his hand at Briggs. “Morte!”

A lot of things all happened at once. The waves of death slammed into a wall of shadow. Hundreds of hands seized the distortion and after a moment’s effort broke it like there was a physical ring. Still, more shadows caught the fire pokers. With a scream of metal on metal the poker…shredded. Then Briggs fired the gun. Despite still pointing it at Devin, both shots hit Hector. The first in the chest the second in the head. I was showered in gore. I screamed. I also tried to struggle but that didn’t accomplish anything.

Thinking back on it I was able to feel Briggs bending space. He didn’t curve the bullet. That would have been silly. He just let it move in the mostly straight line it wanted to. That line just so happened to fall along a folded path in space that led right to Hector. At that point in time, I was mostly screaming and trying to figure out why the blood felt boiling.

“For fuck’s sake,” Michael said. “I don’t want to kill any more of you. Briggs, enough with the shooting. No more. Devin, drop the knife, you have to see how this is going to play out. Surrender is the only option you have that may lead to survival. Just put the knife down and step away from Veronica.”

Briggs hadn’t lowered his gun and the look I saw in his eyes was not murderous, but extreme callousness. He legitimately did not care if any of us lived or died. I could see him doing some sort of mental math on whether he should just shoot Devin. It would save him some time.

“What would surrender look like?” Devin asked. He met Michael’s gaze but kept the knife to my neck.

“We would take the book, bind your power, and place you in the care of a specialist. They would work with you, and try to take as many of the hooks that book sank into your essence as they can. You should be able to live a relatively normal life.” Michael explained.

“That is part of the problem,” Devin said.

“Please believe me,” Michael started.

“I do believe you!” Devin roared. “I know you want to take the one thing I have and force me into a little cage with a little life and a little death. I felt a wave of his rage push against everything. Even the shadows retreated slightly as the entire garage shook.

“Michael this one has taken at least seven lives with the damned blood magic. Let’s just take the loss and kill them both” Briggs said.

Both what the fuck Briggs? I am the hostage. You should want to save me.

I could see his brow furrow slightly. He moved the gun from Devin to me. “She is reflexively trying to warp our minds. I don’t think she even realizes she is doing it. The rot is too deep.”

Michael sighed again, “Well shit. Last chance Devin.”

Devin slit my throat. Blood sprayed. It sort of ebbed and flowed like a sprinkler. Surging with each beat of my heart. Things get a bit woozy after that Micheal charged. Darkness fell. Thousands of shadows seized Devin and… they rendered him into a fine mist. Again, flaming hot gore covered me.

Michael’s hand grabbed my throat. Then things got weird. Everything around us faded into that horrifying void from the book. I also felt like lightning flowed from his hand into my neck. Having my neck cut was strangely less upsetting than having magical power slowly force the flesh back together. Now besides the obvious bit of that having someone who was so powerful have me by the neck, there was a second level to it. I saw something. Michael wasn’t just a man. He was a fount of mystical power that dwarfed me, Hector, Marco, and Devin. Then there was the thing grafted to his soul. It was some gateway leading to some infinite darkness. It reached through Michael and into me. Part of me could tell the darkness just wanted to touch this world. He was shaping its power into some sort of healing hand.

It was like he used Godzilla to move a couch.

Then, he let go.

I could feel the dark power still lingering in me. it immediately turned sour and my stomach churned. Turn your head Michael said stepping back. I projectile vomited black awfulness. That felt terrible.

“Why did you do that?” Briggs demanded.

“The damned ritual. It is just going to funnel all of the power from them as sacrifices. Corvus is just going to get what he wants.” Michael shook his head. “The bastard always seems to get what he wants.”

“He wants pain and suffering,” Briggs said. He grabbed the bike lock around my neck. He added more space between it and me and slid it passed my head. Again, I know it sounds weird. He. Was. Using. Magic. When I sat up, he put the gun in my face, “Stay still.”

“Veronica, this is where things get tricky,” Michael said. “Now I do want to help you, but you are dangerous. First, I need you to hand over the book”

Had I seriously been holding it the whole time? It felt heavier than normal. I offered it to Michael. He took it. For a moment I couldn’t let it go. Joints popped and muscles strained, but I managed to let it go. Michael immediately stuffed it in a silk bag and pulled the strings shut.

“That is a good first step,” Michael said. He looked to Briggs, “I think we can help her.”

“I am not convinced. Corvus cults are notorious for doing anything and everything to keep themselves alive and harvesting. This one’s power is mental manipulation and coercion. It has become a reflex. She probably couldn’t stop if she wanted to. You remember the last one. They killed two of their caretakers. You were the one who pushed to keep them alive. This is the same thing.”

“We really do need to figure out a better way of screen them.” Michael admitted. He turned to me. “Here’s the deal Veronica, the only way you can live is if you let us bind your power. No more magic, no more power. You will live in a facility under guard. No bullshit, it is basically a prison. The other option is Briggs shoots you dead. Any preferences?”

“Why?” I asked. Honestly, I was about to ask ‘why me?’ but my throat caught Michael's repairs were a bit half-assed.

He looked so sad when he spoke,“Well, you were just unlucky. This book is a work journal of a real nasty piece of work. A guy that goes by the name Corvus. Unfortunately for you, this is one of the later works, so it is more powerful and dangerous. They are traps. Someone reads the book, and it mutilates part of their essence. This will look like it gave them powers but it mostly crippled their gifts and turned them into a sort of mystical leach that gathers power for Corvus to circle back around to and collect. It is honestly a fate worse than death.”

“And you’re saying the only way to survive is to have the magic taken away?” I managed.

“Yep,” Michael said with a nod.

“If that’s the case could you just kill me? I don’t need to be pretty; I don’t need to be powerful. But if I don’t get to feel the flow of time or the pulse of the world… I would be better off dead.” I said. I thought I would start crying but strangely something about at least knowing why I was being killed, and that the alternative would be worse. It made a hard pill easier to swallow.

Briggs put the gun, away. “you can still see magic work through the world, and feel its presence. Just not control it or manipulate it.

“Let’s go with that then,” I said immediately. Fuck everything, I said before I wanted to live. “I don’t want to be shot in the face, or the back of the head. What happened next is a bit of a blur. They tossed me into the back of a muscle car. We drove for an hour, and during that time drove through a blizzard, a desert, a mountain road, and heavy rain. Eventually, we arrived at an honest to god castle in the woods.

Some guy named Binder was the one to bind my power. That like everything was weird. First off, absolutely nothing sexually happened. All he did was make eye contact, hold my hand, and mystically restrain my power forever. That’s it, but the experience was as oppressive and intimate as if he had sat on my face.

That done Mike and Briggs loaded me in the car again. We drove for another hour. Strangely we took a turn and were driving down a sunny street. After a while, they turned again and were back driving through the night. I could tell we were passing through something magical. It wasn’t something Mike and Briggs were doing. This was something anchored to the world.

They dropped me off at a place called Safehold. Yep, it was a prison. They took my belt, shoe laces, rings, and piercing, and checked my everything before having me shower and giving me new clothes. Okay while Safehold is a prison, it is like one of those Scandinavian prisons that actually believe in reformation and human dignity. Think more group therapy and less gang violence.

The first four months were really hard though. Mike wasn’t kidding about there being hooks in me. I kept trying to bend people's will. I wanted them to like me. I wanted them to want me. I wanted to take the magic they had, tear it out of them, and make it mine. I wanted that to hurt them.

Dr. Kang helped me so much. he was a healer of sorts. Fixing someone’s body with magic was next to impossible. Something about mixing of auras causing a poisoning-like response. I was sick for weeks after. Dr. Kang couldn’t repair the damage done to my mind, but he could remove the spells lodged in there, slowly. The first was the one that made me ignore the damage I did. Which was odd to have a compulsion to abuse people but also instantly regret it and be disgusted by it. After that was the drive to harm, and the urge to collect magic.

For a long time, I had to grapple with whether people were rewriting my mind. I could feel me changing in subtle ways. I lost interest in sex. Not all together but causal interactions no longer appeal to me. I also find I have more anxiety overall, but I could actually think long-term. Which is where most of the anxiety comes from.

Dr. Kang was able to remove all but three hooks. The last ones were lodged in me in such a way that trying to remove them would certainly kill me. two of them were what had mangled my essence. The third was suspected to be a siphon of sorts. Other than that I seemed to be a recovered person. No desire to harm others or anything.

I would have been a success story. Even now, I hate to let Dr. Kang down. The dreams never stopped since the Ritual. Corvus with his evil smile and means was there with me in the dark. He would say, “Don’t tell anyone. If you do I will slaughter them. But soon, so soon, I will be coming to collect you. Your almost ripe.”

He said the same thing every night for almost three years. Until last night. Last night he said I was ripe and he was coming.

I scheduled this to post online. I don’t think Corvus understands the internet well. Most casters don’t. Micheal if you read this. Tell Dr. Kang and Nurse Lee this isn’t there fault. Like you said: It’s bad luck. I read the book.