Verbum Chapter One: Foreshadowing

They say music soothes the savage beast. That was not the case for Jesse right now as he threw out all his pillows from the bed as he looked for his mobile phone blaring with his alarm music.

“Goddamnit!” he cursed in general terms. But mostly it was for himself for not deactivating it a week ago when he lost his job, and also for choosing an annoying MIDI dance tune for his alarm music.

What’s more annoying was when he found his phone on top of his dresser, he realized that it wasn’t his alarm after all. It was a phone call. Why on earth did he set a cloying MIDI music for a ring tone?

“Yeah?” he said after sliding the screen of his phone to answer. It was his friend, Marcus. He made a mental note to change the music later after this call.

“Jesse! I heard about what happened between you guys. I’m so sorry to hear that,” Marcus said without preamble.

Really? I have to wake up for this? Jesse thought with a slight annoyance. He’s not a very agreeable person when roused from sleep. “Yeah, well, it was bound to happen. You’ve seen it yourself,” he replied. He didn’t bother to hide his annoyance from Marcus. They’ve been friends for years and Marcus has been immunized from his sometimes snappy way of talking.

“True. But still, a break up is a break up. How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” Jesse lied. “Can I go back to sleep?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were still sleeping at past 10 in the morning,” Marcus said sarcastically. 

“You know, they say depressed people sleep a lot. You sure you’re okay?”

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Yes,” Marcus said, suddenly serious. “There is something we need to talk about. It might interest you.”

“Might. Ciao!” Jesse hung up, switched his phone to airplane mode, threw it in a pile of pillows and went back to bed. He did not go to sleep, though. His senses were already jarred awake by the phone’s ringing and now thoughts were swirling in his head.

He thought of his recent break up. Marcus was the one who foretold it. His ability for precognition has been running wild the time around Hallowe’en. Before Jesse created a magic seal for him, that was the last prophecy Marcus uttered. He tried to save his relationship with his six-year boyfriend but, apparently, Fate was dead-set on its plan and nothing can avert the inevitable. The experience taught him one thing: he can’t always play a god. He realized he is still entangled within the machinations of the Universe and he is not exempt from its laws. Not that the gods are either. And the funnier thing is how Fate played out the events that led to that.

He put his arm behind his head as he lay on the only pillow that remained on his bed. He’s been thinking too much about what happened again. It’s been weeks and his self-medication proved effective. Maybe it’s time to have some more of it.

He drew a sigil in the air above his face using his finger. He swore not to use any form of magic after the incident except for this one, which he treats as his drug. It glowed octarine and was absorbed through his forehead. In no time, Jesse was sent to a dreamless slumber, unmindful of everything happening around him in the waking world.

***

“Bitch. As always,” said Marcus to the dial tone as Jesse ended their conversation. The disinterestedness from his distraught friend made him realize that he might go through this undertaking by himself. A few days ago, the occult group The Mysterium contacted him regarding some disturbance in Astral Tower, a condominium in Manila. They need not really tell him. He felt the fluctuation in some energies somewhere there himself. An hour later, the late evening news reported the case of an alleged suicide of a young woman who jumped from her unit on the fourteenth floor. That isn’t something that should surprise him. Suicides happen every now and then around the Metro. People choose to do it for a number of reasons. There aren’t enough anti-depressants or shrinks available and sometimes, it seems sensible to just take the easy way out. He will not be the one to judge their guilt. Hello, first world problems.

The reason why this certain suicide caught his attention was the effect it had on the occult community in Manila. To elicit a reaction from The Mysterium and to have them call their people means a great deal. This was no ordinary suicide. Heck, it may not even be a suicide at all. Something else was at work here.

The only problem Marcus was facing was he can’t see too far out. True, his psychic abilities have been amplified after Hallowe’en came by, as well as his other powers, but right now everything seems cloudy. His visions look like they’ve been applied with a Gaussian blur for weeks now, and that is why he wanted Jesse to go along with him. The guy, in his best days, has an uncanny knack of predicting probabilities of events without having the need for a psychic peek. Problem is, after the massive mess that happened in Makati, Jesse was inconsolable and swore off magic altogether. That’s a bit of a setback since he felt like he broke the seal that he made for him. He hasn’t told him though; he suspects somebody else broke it. Had he been under attack? He can’t be sure. Perhaps he was ‘blinded’, that’s why he can’t see things the way he used to.

He took out the box he keeps under the bed. Maybe there is something he can do himself without being too dependent on other people. He took out a smaller, ancient-looking box with intricate carvings on the lid and opened it. There were various semi-precious stones haphazardly stacked on top of one another. He dug through them and pulled out a rough-cut carnelian the size of an onion, carved with ancient curly runes. The stone itself is relatively smooth from age and much use. He clasped the stone in his right hand, closed his eyes and concentrated.

“Ponpye, geri mwen,” he uttered. His entire body was wrapped in a faint glimmer of flame that burned for exactly five seconds and was gone. Marcus opened his eyes and tried to look into what will happen at the condominium later.

He still got nothing but clouds.

“Damn it!” he swore under his breath. He put the stone back in its box and placed it on the table. He sat on his bed, frustrated, wondering what is blinding him that is so powerful not even a Creole spell could burn it away.

His phone beeped, signaling a text message. He opened it and read, “See you at 7pm at Padre Faura St. Bring weapons.”

Weapons? It’s that bad? He hit reply and typed, “What exactly are we up against here?”

Marcus wasn’t really that much of a combat mage and his knowledge of combat spells was limited to shielding and restraining. He probably figured he’d be going with more offensive mages and he’d be the defensive line. He stood up, took his backpack from his closet and put the box of stones inside. He also got his diagram of the Circle of Cassiel, for the constraining of entities, rolled it and stuffed it inside. His phone beeped again. He immediately picked it up and opened The Mysterium’s reply.

“A rogue demon,” it read.

Marcus’ jaw dropped.

“Holy shit.”

***

The thing bounded across the 14^th floor hallway, jumping from floor to wall to ceiling to floor again, laughing maniacally in four different voices. It’s been three days since it last fed on a soul. The things it gets in this plane is not enough for sustenance.

Revenge is the feeling it feeds on. That’s what he was summoned for by some mage about a month ago to this plane. Unfortunately, in the middle of the summoning, the intended target suddenly died for some dratted reason and he was ejected right out of his sigil into the filthy atmosphere of this plane. He could not find his way back where he came from and he had to look for scraps of revenge feelings in this place, which are not strong and all-consuming enough.

It stopped dead in its tracks and turned its head. It smelled something, the distinct smell of revenge laced with intense anger, one that burns lividly.

The demon turned its massive fanged head and bounded towards the source of the scent, baring its black claws for the kill.

photo credit goes here.