Don't take this one too seriously. It's just a fun Halloween story. It's a long one so you might want to wait for just the right dark and stormy evening in front of the fireplace with a good beer to read it. Thanks as usual to Barney-R for his editing Wizardry that was done at the speed of light. Happy Halloween SS06
Callie: two months ago.
Today was awful! It was my first day at the community college aka Loser University. Why do I call it Loser U? I mean since I go there doesn't that make me a loser by extension? Yep it does.
The school is attended by all of the people who a) didn't have the grades to get into a real school. And b) didn't have the money to get into a real school, c) didn't have the desire to get into a real school or d) were too lazy to get into a real school.
I really hoped that it would be different. I really hoped that I'd finally have a chance to make some real friends. I mean come on ... All the smart kids, the athletically inclined kids and the popular kids went off to Michigan or Michigan State. Some of them even left the state. I think one guy got in Harvard or some shit. So, all that's left are the losers.
Who would have thought that there are degrees of losers? Apparently, I'm even more of a loser than normal. Even the fat girls look down on me. So here I am again, alone in my room.
As usual, I'm the butt of most of the jokes and the subject of a lot of the bullying. It's funny how the worm turns. Most of the kids picking on me were the ones who were being picked on themselves not too long ago.
But they'd better recognize. This is the twenty-first century. Kids have been known to snap and go Columbine on their tormentors. So far, there haven't been any girls doing it, but I might be the first. Maybe I'm scared shitless of guns, but I can find a way.
That was my state of mind the day that this all started. I read a lot. I'll read anything. I also do a lot of research into subjects that are a bit outside of the mainstream.
So one evening, I was at home on the Internet as usual. I was eating cheese popcorn and listening to Evanescence, while I surfed the net. I don't hang out in chat rooms or anything like that. Shit, no one wants to chat with me. I think even the predators out there that are looking for young girls like me, think I'm too big of a loser to bother with.
Somehow, I got into a thread about witchcraft. Normally, that isn't my thing either. I'm more into fantasy than anything else. Game of thrones, Dungeons and Dragons, Legend of the Seeker, those are things that are in my wheelhouse.
As I wandered from page to page, an idea popped into my head. If I was a witch, it would open up a lot of possibilities to me. I could hang out with other witches. Or I could cast a spell on someone to get myself a friend, maybe even a boyfriend.
So I started trying to cast some of the simpler spells and enchantments. At first, what I was able to do was actually kind of stupid. I mean I spent three weeks gathering all the ingredients for a spell that made white smoke look yellow.
Then I spent a month on a spell that would give me increased spiritual powers. I had no idea, whether it worked or not. It's not something that can be quantified as easily as how high you can jump or how much weight you can lift.
I had to admit though there were some benefits to my dabbling. I was reading comments on the websites from other would be witches who seemed to be unable to even do the things I was able to do.
So encouraged by my meager successes, I pressed onwards trying more and more difficult spells and conjurings. I also found websites that sold ever more esoteric ingredients and compounds. The loneliness finally drove me to try something that even I doubted. I decided to summon a demon.
To tell you the truth, I didn't actually believe that I could do it. But on the off chance that something worked, I picked the smallest most minor demon I could find. It actually looked kind of cute in an ugly sort of way.
In all of the pictures I saw, it looked ... Well it looked kind of pathetic. I mean in the pictures ... For a demon, it looked like someone I could push around. Even his name was pathetic. Pythius? It sounded like something you go into a bathroom to do. I could just hear people saying ... Hey, gimme a minute. I gotta go take a Pythius. So hoping for a friend or a demonic servant, I started gathering ingredients and relics. My parents had no idea what I was doing. They were glad to give me the money I needed to buy stuff. They were simply overjoyed that I had found a hobby to occupy my time.
I watched as a group of people came together in front of a large department store. Without speaking to each other, they began marching back and forth in front of the store. It made no sense. At first, I thought that they were protesting something the store was doing or maybe those they were disgruntled employees who were picketing. But as I listened to them, it made less and less sense. They were all screaming for something different. Some were screaming, "Free Stuff." Others wanted the store to close down. And there were a couple who were screaming for the release of Jack Kervorkian.
One very thin woman was marching around holding I sign that read, "I want Kim Kardashian's Ass."
The whole demonstration, if you could call it that, made no sense, it was chaos.
Suddenly, it did make sense. It was what I was here for. As if on cue, some of the marchers began picking up rocks from the parking lot and other solid objects from the stores large trash containers. They began using the items to pelt shoppers going into and out of the store. Others used similar items to break the windows and the large glass doors on the front of the stores.
I heard sirens in the distance. They got closer and louder with every second, but they were going to be too late. The chaos was increasing in intensity.
A few yards away from me a teenaged girl slammed a shovel against the head of a middle-aged man. He went down immediately, and she pounded his prone form unmercifully while screaming.
"It's a small world after all," she sang while continuing to pound the man's lifeless form.
Directly across from her, a woman who had to be seventy years old gunned the engine of her car and ran into a woman riding one of those motorized mobility scooters.
"Fucking Bitch," she screamed. "That's what you get. 12 items or less means 12 items or less!"
The impact knocked the scooter onto its side and back several yards. The woman riding the scooter was thrown off of it and landed heavily, several yards further back with a horrible snapping sound. She screamed as the crazed old woman reversed her car and then headed for her again.
Several fires broke out in trash containers around the store. Four large men were trying to lift a flaming barrel and throw it into the store.
A couple of burly guys looked towards me sitting nonchalantly on the hood of my Mustang. They looked at each other, and something made them decide to go after easier prey.
Could I have done something to stop the chaos? Maybe, but that wasn't my goal here. Could I have saved a few lives? Probably, but again I was drawn here by the chaos. My job was not to stop the Chaos, but to capture and return the source of the chaos.
Across the large parking lot, on the fringes of the mayhem, I noticed an odd seeming couple that like me were unaffected by the Chaos around them. A chunky but pretty young woman seemed very nervous. Her eyes were as big as saucers, and she looked extremely out of place.
Beside her, clutching her arm as if for dear life stood another person who looked extremely out of place. But in his case, appearances were deceiving. He wore an expensive looking suit. And he had a smile as big as all outdoors. He reminded me of a political candidate in terms of his dress and persona. But his actions seemed more like those of a game-show host.
He reveled in the chaos and actually seemed to be directing it. As I watched he yelled for a trio of women to attack a group of children coming out of the store. One of the women grabbed a fire axe off of the wall of the lobby and set off in hot pursuit of the kids.
The sound of sirens and the arrival of several heavy vehicles broke up the mayhem. Swat team members armed with bull horns urged the crowd to disperse, while others used water hoses to forcefully disengage perpetrators.
The officers, most of them either in riot gear or in regular police uniforms, spread throughout the crowd, doing whatever they could to stop the chaos. Most of the perpetrators had begun to disappear with the arrival of the police but a few who were too crazed to stop continued.
I noticed her then. Truthfully it was hard not to see her. Her tall well shaped form, crowned with a head of very long, very light blond hair. The hair was restrained and pulled back into a very no-nonsense bun at the nape of her neck. Several errant locks had escaped capture and dangled over her shoulder.
While most of the officers accompanying her sought to stop the crimes that were in progress, she looked for the source of the problem. She wore a white blouse with a plain blue blazer over it, and jeans that looked like they were painted onto her amazing ass and legs.
The look on her face was one of total intensity. As she scanned the crowd, her eyes almost immediately locked onto the couple I had picked out as being interesting.
Unfortunately, those same eyes locked onto me. If more people were left between us, I could have ducked between them and avoided her. If it had been dark, I could have eluded her even easier.
.... There is more of this story ...