💧~Chapter two~💧

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TW: this chapter includes mentions of self harm

1st person POV

For years I cried for my friend, I hated every last person in my village who sat back and let it happen, I hated the men who treated women like maids, and I hated the women who accepted it.

The only people in my life who I didn't hate were my parents, they were always there for me, always willing to lend a helping hand, and I loved them for that.

When I turned 26, my mother got sick, very sick. I was at a loss, my dad tried his best to find a cure, or even make enough money to keep her alive for the time being.

 I prayed every night, asking god for help, I got no answer, I asked the local medic for help, I got no answer, I asked everyone I possibly could, no one even blinked an eye. That was infuriating, knowing that my own people didn't care, couldn't even bother to look my way, or to hear my desperate pleas. 

I did my best to keep a smile on my face but it was hard knowing my mother was dying. It was horrible knowing how much pain she was constantly in, I needed to find a cure, and fast...

I began to read about cases that were similar to hers, and their cures. I'd go days with no sleep trying to put things together. 

When I look back at my actions I only feel guilt, I would pump random mixed into her in hopes of curing her, but I fear I only made her worse.

Everyday was the same, read, make 'cures', feed them to my dying mother, and yell at my dad for trying to stop me. 

Poor mother, she  had to spend her last days seeing her family fall apart. Watching us made her worse, the medicine I gave her, made her worse,  day by day she looked defeated and sad.

At this point I was willing to turn to anyone, or anything, including, the devil...

As the sun set a pretended to sleep, and as soon as my father went out to work or to search for someone who could help, I got up and grabbed the materials I would need.

"I'm sorry mother, but this is for you", I whispered to her. She was in to much pain to even bother questioning me.

As soon as I said that, I got up and grabbed a book titled, 'satanic rituals and witchcraft', that I found in the very back of my library. I flipped through the old dusty pages of the book until i got to the page that said 'summoning satin', when I read the the pages it felt like they were reading me back, it was one of the oddest experiences I've ever had.

There was a picture of a red pentagram, with a candle on each point of the star with instructions of; 'Use your own blood to draw the pentagram light a candle at each point, then read this sentence' it was something in Latin that I couldn't read, ill just have to sound it out, I suppose...

I began the ritual, grabbing the knife and clutching the blade in my hand. My head was spinning with thoughts of, 'do it..' and 'its for mother' it was overwhelming, eventually impulse got the best of me and I cut my palm.

 I hissed in pain as warm drops of blood came from my hand, I began to draw the star and circle. A cold shiver washed over me, everything in my body was telling me to stop, remembering Lillie, asking myself if it was worth it, and I initially said yes, but there was a creeping feeling of dread following it.

 My eyes darted in-between the pentagram and my mother, as my hands slowly reached for the matches and candles. I lit each candle, placing them accordingly. 

The last step...the last step, my mind stared to circle again, 'is my soul worth it? my life?', without thought I started chanting.

This is impossible, I don't know any Latin, it felt like someone else was controlling my mouth, my words were cold and lifeless. It wasn't me.

As soon as I was done the once warm red fire coming from the candles blew out and re-lit blue.

A large cloud of red seeped into my house from under the door and consumed my vision. My heart dropped into my stomach when I heard foot steps approaching me.

It felt as if I was blinded, the foot steps grew loud and sounded as if they were coming from every direction. I felt a cold sweat run down my face, but it got all the scarier with it everything abruptly stopped. Cold words slithered through the thick atmosphere, and I felt an equally cold hand cup my cheek.

"hello dear..."

authors note

don't try that ritual idk if its real i was just making stuff up, but just in case, don't try it. Anyways thx for reading, stay tuned and plz comment and recommendations or fixes!

word count-838 

🍎Don't wake me till dawn🍎 (Lucifer x Fem Reader HH)Wo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt