Chapter 1: A spell

Nikolai sat on a closed toilet. The students were chattering on the outside of the stall. Eyes shut and hands cupped together, he prays with all of his heart:

"Oh, Almighty God." He tightens his hands. "Please let this be the end."

'Let my prayer be heard,' he hoped. Droplets of tears flowed across his face as he said so and his heart ached.

Choking back tears, he repeats, "Please, God… let this be the end of them."

He was not being bullied; he did not have financial issues; he is mentally well, he thinks. But when demons have been following you lately and they all wished for your death, would you not have wished the same?

-

"What is this?" A dark-haired instructor asks as he sets the square of parchment on the table. He looks at him with a hard expression.

The faculty office had very few people. They were trying not to look interested in the situation. Nikolai fiddles with his fingers anxiously. His fingers, Jodi notices, were subtly stained with black ink.

He coughs, "It's the witchcraft assignment, sir."

Jodi massages his temples and sighs, "Did I not give you six months to do this? Why give it to me so early?"

Nikolai's words fumbled, "I- I figured I'd get extra credit."

He didn't answer. He pinches the middle of the parchment and picks it up with his thick fingers, waving it near Nikolai's face.

"What's the spell?"

Nikolai breaths in and out, "It's something similar to liquid luck. It gives you confidence to do things."

"And that's it?" He raises an eyebrow.

Nikolai nodded in affirmation.

He sighs in disbelief. This is stressful. This blond child was not very known for his smarts but rather his aptitude in magic. Still, it is impossible to make a spell in two days. Magicians take years to perfect one even. Perhaps he stole it? Jodi's eyes narrows as he inspects the piece of parchment. A pentacle written with a thick brush. It was obviously made by an amateur from its looks. Smudges of black ink all over and the paper was slightly crumpled.

His eyes land on Nikolai. He was looking down with his thumb scratching the cuticle of his other thumb. Can this child really make a spell of inviting demons from the underworld?

Jodi placed the piece of parchment on the table and sighs for the third time.

"Look," he says, "I don't want to put you down or anything like that, 'ight? But this is horrendous."

"Oh…"

Jodi could tell that his words put him down as he tries to pull him back up.

"Still, it's remarkable." He smiles. "Someone your age made a spell in barely a week! I gotta hand it to ya."

Nikolai doesn't mention that he made it in a day. He smiles. 'He's too soft,' Jodi thinks. 'It's hard for me to see him accomplish something in the future. I hope I'm wrong.'

Jodi didn't know what to say after that and Nikolai took the silence between them as dismissal and he bid farewell to Jodi and exited.

When he left, Jodi took his time staring at the square of paper sitting on the table. The way the star of the spectacle was drawn- eight corners should've given out the fact it was a spell related to demons. But he supposed somebody like Nikolai wouldn't have known.

His thick finger traces the circle of paper and felt a zap. He abruptly stands up and some of the faculty flinch, the spell crumpling in his right grip. Jodi apologizes and leaves for the courtyard.

The courtyard was two fields long and had nothing but green grass and trees. After scanning the place to make sure no student was near, he relaxed beneath a tree as he took a cigarette and a lighter out.

The cigarette pursed in between his flaky lips, he flicks the lighter multiple times until it lit the smoke. He inhaled the smoke deeply and exhaled. The smoke slightly relaxed him.

His hand digs into his brown blazer's pocket for the square of paper. When he examines it, he hopes that Nikolai hasn't tested it yet. It's been centuries since demons walked the land and he desperately wished that someone as young and ignorant as Nikolai was to change that.

As he warily holds the paper, he flicks his lighter again and again. And when the fire comes out and it touches the paper, it flares up into a greenish color; then to purple; then black; then lastly, a faint orange-red as the paper turns into white ash, and when it lands, the grass around it withers. Jodi winces as he feels a sharp pain where he touched the spell.

Terrible, terrible. A spell to attract demons. Jodi shudders at the thought of its existence and the fact its remains were in front of him.

-

"Meow," the cat says sweetly.

Nikolai was buying funnel cake at a nearby food fair when he was approached by a black cat. It had a cut on its left ear and its fur was frizzy and dusty. The sky was turning from a pink into orange and the people of the food fair was getting ready for closing.

As he took a large bite of the fried cake, he crouches and strokes the cat's chin.

"Meow," he mimics the cat. As he pulls away his fingers, he rubbed them on each other, the dust peppering down. "Why are you so dirty?"

"Aye, now, young'un," the man who sold the funnel cakes calls out. "That cat has been following you?"

Nikolai puts the whole stick of funnel cake into his mouth and swallows and with a mouthful, he says, "I'm not sure."

The man was organizing cups into a box. Nikolai chews on the stick.

"Is it the last day of the fair?" He asks.

"Yep." he responds, getting a bundle of sticks into a box. "Anyway, I feel bad for you, kid. That kitten's been following people around the day they die since two days ago."

"Oh, really." He raises an eyebrow and he looks into the black cat's innocent green eyes. "Coincidence."

"Four deaths in a day can't be coincidence. Ah, well. Advance condolences." Nikolai stands up and drops the stick on the ground. The man rolls his eyes, "I don't care if you're dying, throw that shit in a rubbish bin."

Nikolai runs to the nearest bin and discards the stick. When he comes back, he has a plastic bag and he puts the black cat inside it like a burrito blanket. He's not about to stain his white uniform.

"Does this little one have a name, mister?" He asks, hugging the cat.

The mister narrows his brows, "Nato, I've heard. But why? Don't tell me you're bringing that giant hairball home."

Nikolai shrugs with a grin, "I'm dying anyway. Might as well have company. Hey, what do cats eat?"

The man facepalms and then replies with, "I think fish will do… You're too calm for someone who's about to die."

"Do you actually believe that, mister? I think it's a load of bull! Isn't that right, Nato?" Nato nuzzles his neck. "See? He's adorable, a little of a mess but so adorable."

"I've seen it myself, young'un." He goes quiet for a while. "Go home now. It's getting dark. Tomorrow, I'll be at the cheap bar near here. I hope I'll see you walking home then."

Nikolai laughs amusingly, "Of course, of course," he says, holding Nato with one hand, the other waving at him. "See you, mister."

Nato was playing with Nikolai's long, wavy blond hair as they left. The sky was turning purple now and the chilly air tingles Nikolai's neck.