Page 15 of Summoned
“Nicole,” the stranger says. The way the syllables of my name fall from his lips—half command, half caress—roots me to the ground.
Who the hell is this man?
He tilts his head, his expression cold. “Ten years ago, voluntarily or not, you performed a blood spell. You recited the incantation that summoned me.”
I frown, struggling to find any sense in his words.
He recites, “‘Wanderer of Shadows, Whisper in the Abyss. Come forth from the darkness to hear my wish’?”
Come forth from the darkness to hear my wish…
A memory flashes: a dark room. The face of my best friend from primary school. A small knife piercing my skin. A half-forgotten story about a joker locked away in an enchanted prison. My heart fluttering in anticipation, because deep down, I know that if the Black Joker can’t help me, nothing in this world can.
My insides lurch.
“The Black Joker.” I form the name with my lips, but no sound escapes.
A spark flickers in his eyes. “Very good. Most of them take longer.”
Panic threatens to flood me all over again.“Give me my voice back!”
He freezes, as if my words caught him off guard. “Rule number one,” he says slowly, “Igive the orders.”
My chest rises with effort. I point at my throat with trembling fingers. “Is this… permanent?”
“‘Permanent’ is such a depressing word, don’t you think?”
“Then return my voice now!”I mouth. Then, I remember his warning, that he alone gives the commands, so I swallow my frustration and add, “Please.”
He gives me a honeyed smile that chills me to the bone. “Why not take it back yourself?”
The world blurs as shadows coil like smoke around my limbs. The ground vanishes, and I plunge weightlessly, stomach lurching, ears popping. A flash of light grazes my vision—
I land inside a dark cave.
Eerie trembling lights drift and dance in the air. Dozens of them—perhaps hundreds—float like moths, never quite touching me. With every movement, they emit a strange sound similar to wind rustling through dried leaves.
I blink several times to bring them into focus. These aren’t moths, but lights sealed inside glass vials with wings. Black wings stretch out on either side of the glass.
I slap a hand over my mouth to stop myself from screaming. Inside the vials, the glowing lights struggle against the transparent walls. The cork stoppers seem to be the only thing holding them back from bursting out.
There’s no sign of the stalker.
“What the hell is this?!” I shout. No sound leaves my throat. I still have no voice.
‘Why not take it back yourself?’His words echo in my head. Sinister. Mocking.
This is a nightmare. Or a movie. Whatever it is, it can’t be real…
Eachvial has a small label etched with numbers that glow under the dim light.
‘Why not take it back yourself?’
Please, let it not be what I think it is.
Despite every instinct screaming against it, I reach out and grasp one of the vials. Its surface is cool and smooth. As soon as I touch it, its wings begin to flutter violently. Up close, they’re thick and leathery, resembling bat wings. I shudder in revulsion and fear, but refuse to let go.
I rotate the vial in my hands to examine it. The number on it is 83. The light inside pulses as if… alive.
