Chapter 39 : This was such a bad idea, mom

It started good, all things considered.

Very dangerous, necromancy.

This ritual required many things: strange herbs that smelled like peppermint and chocolate; blood- From myself, Irene, and Alphard; a werewolves tooth, grounded finely; a diced, dried frog leg, and many other strange and bazaar things.

Irene got to preparing the ingredients whilst I drew the symbols and anagrams for the ritual. The main shape was a triangle; a lit candle in one corner, a bowl of seawater in another, and some dirt from Sheri's...grave in the final point.

In seemingly random places around the triangle, we arranged the needed ingredients in their places as dictated by the drawing in the necromancy book. I'm not stressing, nope. Just, a mild panic attack approaching, nothing more, nothing less.

We should've expected something to go wrong, but we didn't.

And so, stubborn and prepared for "anything", we started the chant, words foreign and barely lifting off my tongue at points.

The triangle shined red, then yellow, green, purple, before settling back on the glowing blood red it was originally. When it was time to give the sacrifice, (i.e. our blood) I went first, which is honestly, ideally, a terrible, TERRBILE, idea. But I still did it.

I cut my palm on a slightly blunt knife, hissing at the pain.

I hated pain. so very much.

Biting back a curse, I quickly dropped the required amount on the sygils.

And that's when all hell went loose.

I suppose, the gifts, in my blood, made the spell go haywire, so instead of a necromancy ritual it turned into...something else.

I basically have no idea where I am right now, but I'm scared, because It's very, very dark.

Like, too dark.

I'm scared, mothers.

I hope we got Sheri back, at least.

Even if the cost was me.