Chapter 11 - Vengeful Deedee

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Later that evening, Deedee is back in my room. This time she has something that's wrapped in a plain white cloth held to her chest.

I guess this has something to do with raising "a little hell" that she mentioned this morning.

She makes sure to lock the door before she comes to sit on my bed. When she peels back the cloth, and before she even reveals an old leatherbound book, that earthy, woody smell of decomposing paper, along with a dank smell of old leather fills the air.

There's no writing on the aged brown cover except for strange symbols and runes. A thick malevolent vibe that slithers out from between the pages is a warning for me not to go near it.

Slowly, almost reverently she leafs through it to a marked page, then she hands it to me. "Here, commit every word on these pages to memory."

My heart races and I have chills running up my back as soon as it lands on my lap. The veins in my hands darkened- bulging and pulsing, pushing against my skin when I place them on the yellowing pages.

"Is this a book of spells?" My eyes skitter all over the page, running over the writing and the symbols, trying to make sense of it all. "This is the forbidden Grimoire, isn't it Deedee? It's ancient and dangerous. Where did you get it?" If she stole it from Astaroth, we'd both be in trouble.

"Just do as I say. Memorize it," she says, irritated.

It's written in Latin. "This is the spell of resurrection," I whisper. My voice shakes.

Resurrecting the dead is no small matter. It could be deadly. I flip the fragile page and there are warnings. Pages after pages of warnings. It warns that the "thing" that comes back may or may not be the spirit of the person who died. It could invoke a spirit or it could invoke a demon. The spirit or the demon that entered the body could be malicious and vengeful. Then there's the danger of using the same body more than once. Invoking the wrath of the spirit for being disturbed...

Deedee closes the page and snatches it out of my hands. "Please Danica, I just need you to memorize it," she says. This is the closest to begging I ever heard coming from Deedee.

"Why, Deedee?"

"You'll know when the time comes," she says.

I don't like it and her answer is very cryptic but I let out a heavy, tired sigh and nod. "Okay."

She nods back and opens the book to the marked page before handing it back to me.

It takes me less than ten minutes to memorize the two pages of words and symbols. I have no problem memorizing things. My brain soaks up facts, numbers, formulas, events, spells...pretty much everything like a sponge and doesn't let go.

Some people might think it's a gift. To me, it's a curse. When you can't forget, you remember everything in great detail...including every painful event in your life.

Deedee wraps the old scripture back in the white cloth and quietly leaves when I'm done.

That night I pick one of my snakes from the glass tank. I carry it all the way to the other side of the house and stop at the end of the hallway just before Astaroth's lair.

I bring it up to my eye level to gaze into its eyes to make a connection. "Go in there and be my eyes. Feel the vibration and be my ears," I whisper before I carefully release it, willing it to go straight into Astaroth's office.

I haven't done this in a long time. When I make a connection to see and hear through the snakes or the lizards, I also experience their deaths and that's painful. But I have a feeling that I need to do this.

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