Evocation of the Spirit
Hi everyone! I hope you had a happy Halloween 🎃. This semester, I've been taking a fiction writing class and it's fantastic! We mostly focus on short form writings: short stories, flash fiction, etc. These assignments have really gotten my creative juices flowing and I've been producing some interesting pieces. Surprisingly enough, I've been writing mostly horror.
As you probably already picked up on, horror is my favorite genre. However, I was always hesitant to write it because I wasn't sure how to evoke the same terror my favorite horror media have instilled in me. But! I've been having very vivid dreams which have acted as the inspirations for my stories. This piece wasn't inspired by a dream, but a French show from the early 2000s: Petit Vampire (2004). I hope you enjoy it!
Evocation of the Spirit
She didn’t think it’d actually work.
Claudia had found the worn grimoire in the attic. Filled to the brim with rituals and spells, she wanted to see if the old thing still worked. Even after befriending other vampires, ghosts, and other ghouls, she was still skeptical of the existence of Hell. Her very existence seemingly defied it. After a lifetime as a 14 year old, Claudia was in search of some excitement.
She looked on in awe as plumes of smoke arose from the candles. She shivered as a frigid sensation settled against her skin like a thin sheet of ice. One by one, flies buzzed past, materializing into a nebulous being. It towered above her, its feet never quite touching the floor. Yellow eyes stared back at her, gleaming with cold intelligence.
The vampire’s eyes went wide with awe.
The demon bellowed, “Who dares summon the–oh. You’re just a child.”
“Yup!” Claudia chirped.
“I hope I wasn’t summoned for nothing.”
“Well…I wanted to see if it would work!” she said, excitement coloring every word.
The demon—Azazel to be exact—seemed to be confused. Its glowing eyes roamed around the dark basement, hoping to find an explanation for his evocation. An authority figure instead of a teenage girl. It stalked around the circle, toeing the crude summoning circle she drew with blackboard chalk.
“I honestly expected something more goatlike,” Claudia mused. “Don’t you eat goats?”.
Azazel stopped in front of her, narrowing its eyes.
“If you have no use for me, I might as well lea–”
“No, please don’t!” the young vampire implored.
“I…well, I was hoping that you’d be able to revert my curse.”
Claudia opened her mouth, revealing a set of serrated fangs and incisors. Teeth that belied a diet of flesh and blood.
The demon quirked its metaphysical eyebrow. “You do realize, if I fulfill your request, you will revert to your current age. You will perish immediately.”
Claudia stared wistfully at her hands. Deceptively childlike hands that have torn through flesh and bone, lived through wars, and scraped by for survival. Still smooth and unblemished.
She remembered the family she once had. Yes…it was all coming back to her. A gentle father, spritely mother, and an older sister.
The friends and lovers she once knew like the back of her hand, turned to dust by the unrelenting passage of time.
She looked up at the demon, her face set with quiet determination.
“I’m sure.”
With a nod of acknowledgement, one by one, Azazel blew out the candles. The vampire Claudia closed her eyes, letting darkness engulf her for the last time.
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