I entered the clearing. A quick glance at my surroundings told me everything was still here. I quickly made my way into the middle of the clearing where days ago I had drawn the Sigil of Baphomet. I approached that alter in the middle and opened the Grimoire. I started down at the book and read the words in my head one last time. I looked through the dense grove of trees that surrounded me. I could just barely make out the position of the Sun as it hovered on the horizon. It’s now or never. I thought to myself. I glanced back down at the altar and picked up an amulet with the Eye of Horus on it. I hoped I wouldn’t need it, but it was a necessary precision. I tied the amulet around my neck and picked up the box of matches. I took a match out of the box, and I felt my heart began to beat faster. I struck the match on the side of the box. Nothing. I tried again. Nothing. Must be a dud. I thought to myself. I took another match out of the box, my heart still racing. I struck the match against the box, and I was greeted with a small flame. I set the box of matches down. Then I made my way to the opposite side of the altar were a small patch of chalk dust lay. It’s no ordinary chalk dust, I reminded myself, it’s infused with magic. I bent down and lit the chalk with my match. The fire quickly spread to the rest of the chalk dust that made up the sigil. I made my way back to the other side of the altar. I raised my right hand to the sky with two fingers pointed up, and my left hand down at the ground with two fingers pointed down.
I looked at the Grimoire and began to read aloud, “Under the hour of Scarab, the hour of Ra’s rebirth, I call you from depths of hell. I understand the cost, but I am ready. I am ready to serve the Dark Lord, I am ready to serve you,” The eye of Horus began to warm up. “Take my soul, make me your slave, and in return grant me your power and wisdom,” The amulet was almost unbearably hot now, and the Grimoire had started levitating. “Protect me from those who would seek to harm me. Grant me, oh powerful one, your knowledge of the art. The art of witchcraft and black magic,” The amulet was starting to burn now, the Grimoire was now level with the middle of my chest. There were only two words left, and filled with courage (or was it fear?) I shouted, “Now come!” Suddenly the Grimoire fell back to the altar, and I was shot out of the sigil by a wave of pure energy, seconds before it was completely engulfed by the flames. Mere seconds later the fire died down and, in the center, stood a very angry looking man with a goat head and red eyes stared at me. On the goat’s head were two horns and in between these horns sat a brilliant blue flame, which radiated with power. I don’t know where I found the courage or even the right words, but I did. With a burning amulet around my neck I began to chant once again, “I name you Baphomet, the one who baptizes with wisdom, The Goat of Mendes, the horned one, The Sabbatic Goat, arch-demon of the eighth hell, the one who's number is five hundred and fifty-five, servant of Satan, The Deceiver of man, The Leviathan, Lucifer The Fallen One of God, Serpent of Eden, The Father of Lies, Prince of Demons, The God of This Age, The Roaring Lion, The Great Red Dragon, Beelzebub the Lord of Flies, Abaddon the Destroyer, Ruler of the Abyss, the one who's number is six hundred and sixty-six, I have named you and order you to submit to me. Baphomet’s eyes turned brown, and the fire around him died down to the point it was practically nonexistent.
“May I ask the name of the one who summoned me?” asked Baphomet.
“You will know it when our deal is complete,” I replied.
“Fair enough,” he replied reaching his hand out.
I approached him, not quite entering the circle entirely, and shook his hand. I felt a sudden jab of pain in my chest as if someone had stabbed me with a red-hot knife, and I knew my end of the deal had been fulfilled. Baphomet then reached for the Grimoire. He picked it up with one hand, and with the other grabbed the flame the resided over his head. He then put the flame under the book. The book caught fire but didn’t burn. He restored the flame and set the Grimoire back on the altar. Baphomet than took a dagger and a goblet, which had been sitting on the altar and cut his hand with it. He let his blood, a deep black color, fill the goblet. He invited me into the circle, and I accepted. I approached the altar where Baphomet gave me the goblet. Baphomet didn’t need to say anything, I knew what I had to do. I drank the contents of the goblet. It smelled like rotting eggs and tasted even worse. No words could describe its horrendous taste. It was so bad I had to fight it to stay down.
After I finished Baphomet spoke, his voice was harsh and serpent-like, “Blood, the liquid essence of life. It binds all things together.” It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about when I finally did, I took the knife that Baphomet had used and, following his example, I cut my hand. I then made a fist over the Grimoire and let my blood drop. As soon as the first drop of blood touched the book, it shot open. My blood continued to drip, and it began to fill the pages of the Grimoire, no my Grimoire. After every page had been filled, I turned my hand over, and watch in amazement, as it healed. I looked up at Baphomet, and notice his eyes turning red. I reacted quickly and grabbed my Grimoire and darted out of the sigil. Baphomet charged at me, only to hit his head on nothing. Baphomet fell to the ground and stumbled back to his feet. He began to pound at the air, the sigil had done its job, Baphomet was trapped. Baphomet let out an ear-piercing scream, and the eye of Horus around my neck began to burn. I knew the sigil wouldn’t last much longer, I looked through the trees, the sun was almost over the horizon. I opened my Grimoire to the second page and read aloud, “Baphomet!” Baphomet screamed again, “Your work is done! As your hour fades, I make one last command, return to hell, and leave this world!” I watched as the flames roared back to life and consume Baphomet. He screamed one last time, and then there was silence. The sigil was gone along with the fire, the only thing that remained was a shattered glass goblet, a charred altar, and a rusted knife. I looked down at my Grimoire. My mind filled with thoughts and ideas on how to use this new-found power, and then I smiled for the first time in a long while.
By: Dylan 8th grade