he was a quiet one, they are always the worst; at least that’s what his momma used to say. He spent many a night in the garage, sometimes as late as four a.m., honing his craft while his peers were out drinking and whooping it up. They called him names like geek and nerd, but he didn’t care. Someday they would pay, he was certain of that.
The floor of his dad’s garage was once cluttered with garbage, but he seen that it was all cleaned up. When he finished, he checked the old book, and traced out the five point star with an old piece of chalk. On each point of the star, he placed a candle, and once all five were lit, he sat in the middle. Holding the book and sitting with his legs crossed, he recited the words of the ancients.
As he recited the words, he thought of every person who made him feel small. In his relatively short life, he had been hurt by practically everyone he trusted. On this night, they would all pay dearly. The ones who would be first attacked by the demons would be his parents, who had given up on him a long time ago. The next would be his classmates. God how he hated their constant bullying. The parish priest would be next. What right did he have to say that witchcraft was evil? The list was long, but in the end, everyone would soon realize the error of their ways, and come to worship the one who damned them to hell.
To Be Continued….
this is my entry into this week’s Trifecta Challenge. the prompt is
2 a : an occupation or trade requiring manual dexterity or artistic skill <the carpenter’s craft> <the craft of writing plays> <crafts such as pottery, carpentry, and sewing>
b plural : articles made by craftspeople <a store selling crafts> <a crafts fair>
Stay tuned for the next part in the series…