Lucy hugged the old book to her chest as she crept through the dark forest. Shafts of moonlight filtered through the swaying canopy, the gnarled trees groaning in the light breeze. She stepped through a warren of shadows and tangled roots, dried leaves crunching beneath her shoes. Second thoughts ran rampant through her mind, but she pushed them back, clutching the book tighter and silently repeating her mantra.
Love would elude her no longer.
She had made up her mind, and even if the whole plan reeked of fantastical desperation, it was at least a state she was well-accustomed to.
"I don't like this," Susan murmured beside her, stepping over a fallen branch and shivering as she glanced around. Her glasses glinted in the dark, and she shivered again, wrapping her arms around her slender frame. "It's so creepy in here. Why do we have to go so deep?"
Lucy worked her tongue around her mouth, eyes struggling to follow the faint path. It wasn't the first objection her friend had voiced this evening. "It's just what the book said. The place of summoning has to be...appropriate, somewhere where there's ancient power in the land itself."
At least, she thought that's what it had said, according to their bastardized translation. At the very least, the heart of the old growth forest seemed appropriate enough.
"Ancient power," she scoffed, shaking her head of red curls. "I'm sure there's just as much 'ancient power' in my basement, I think that would've worked just fine."
"Well, it's too late now."
"Yeah, no shit. What happens if we get lost?"
"We have phones, and we're not that far from the road," she responded, doing her best to believe the words herself. In all honesty, she mainly just wanted to be as far away from the potential of prying eyes as possible. In case the whole thing worked, mostly, but also for if it didn't. The last thing her reputation needed was being caught trying to summon the God of Love in a magic ritual.
It was an insane plan, she knew, but...
But she was in love, and people did insane things for love, didn't they?
Susan was silent a moment as they moved between the trees. "Look, I know you really want this to be real and all, but I still think this is dumb."
"You said you'd help me."
"Yeah, and I will, but...Luce, this is crazy! I know things didn't exactly go the way you planned with Miles, but...well, there's other guys out there. Maybe you just need to be patient, let it happen naturally, not..." She nodded towards the book clutched to her chest.
"I'm done being patient," she snapped, rounding on her friend, although her brown eyes were pleading, not harsh. She shook her head, pinching her lip. "I'm sick of being the weird, awkward girl that's never had a boyfriend. I'm eighteen, and I haven't even had my first kiss. I know you think Miles is just an obsession, but I know it's love, and I know he'll love me back, he just needs a little...push." She shook her head again, wincing as she frowned out at the dark trees. "I just...I just want a boyfriend, to be in love, to..."
She let her other desires trail off. God knows it was more than just love, more than just a kiss, that she truly wanted from Miles. But every time she got close to him she found some way to embarrass herself, to mess it all up and push him further away.
She knew she sounded desperate, pathetic even, but there was just something about this time of year that set the feelings in her surging, that brought her crush well into the forefront of her mind. It was probably the movies she'd watched as a kid, but she'd always maintained a sappy, lovesick notion that their love would blossom on Valentine's Day. They'd share their first kiss, and everything else that followed.
That little fantasy may have gone to her head, just a little, but she was still clinging to it, just like she did almost every morning, when had to fight her hand from sliding between her legs. After all, what better day to finally be one with Miles then the most romantic day of the year?
Susan worked her jaw, and tugged at the sleeves of her jacket. She had a svelte prettiness, a long and narrow face, and a slightly high voice and a pinched expression that gave the impression she was always worried about something. "And do you really think using some old book to summon Cupid, or whoever, is the best option? To force him to...well...you know."
"Eros," she muttered, and looked down at the ancient tome hugged to her chest. She'd found it buried in the back of an old bookshop, filled with strange diagrams and dense passages in forgotten languages, and just enough Latin that she'd managed to translate a bit with the help of Susan. They were instructions, instructions for the precise rituals needed to summon a whole variety of gods and goddesses and other deities, to indulge in their communion. It had only been when she'd begun to recognize certain names, names like Eros and Cupid and Aphrodite, that her heart had begun to beat, and the tantalizing idea had begun to form.
This was it, her undeniable path to ensure she would find love. It wasn't creepy, or weird, she'd told herself. It was romantic, and Miles would see that, eventually.
It wasn't as if she were unattractive, more so that she just...escaped notice. She was short, her hair a mousy brown mess, close-set almond eyes in a nymphish face, her body all wide-hips and soft curves. The worst she could say about herself was that she was maybe just a little...plain. But he'd see past that, because deep down inside she knew they were perfect for each other, he just didn't know it yet. He just needed...guidance.
Guidance from someone with the mastery of love at their very fingertips, and what better time than to commune with a god of love than in 10 minutes, on February 14th, a day when the primal forces of love and lust were at their rifest?
She brushed her fingers over the worn leather, picturing Miles and feeling that familiar flutter in her chest, and tightened her grip. "Yes," she said confidently, "I do. And if you don't want to help me, you can go back to the car."
She turned and strode deeper into the dark forest. A moment later, she heard Susan scurrying behind her. "I didn't say I wouldn't help," she said meekly, ducking under a protruding frond. "I just think...I'm sure we could find someone else to kiss you."
"I don't want to kiss just anyone," she said, exasperated. "I don't want to..."
She didn't want to lose her virginity to some random guy that wanted nothing to do with her afterwards, someone that wasn't perfect for her, that didn't love her. Susan didn't think it was about anything more than her desire for a boyfriend, and didn't know just how badly she wanted Miles to be the one to make a woman of her. She felt a little pulse of excitement buzz through her stomach, igniting a gentle warmth between her legs. Tomorrow, tomorrow it was going to happen.
Susan worked her lips, watching her, then pushed out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair. She adjusted her glasses and nodded. "Alright, we'll do it your way then, you hopeless romantic."
They glanced at each other, and after a moment both smiled. They entered a small clearing, the moon shining down through an opening above. The roots of the encircling trees snaked over the leaf-strewn ground, thick with moss and serrated bark. Lucy stopped, glancing around, then checked her phone. 11:52.
"This should do it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, I think so." It seemed as good a place as any.
Susan shivered, but didn't object. Lucy set the book carefully down amidst the leaves, and opened to the page she wanted. Then she opened her pack, and got to work. Susan helped her draw the ring of chalk dust, then place and light the candles, sticking them into the dirt. Then she pulled out the small knife, took a breath, and slid it over her palm, wincing as the blood welled. It all seemed very...arcane, for a communion with a benevolent deity, but it wasn't as if she had any idea how these things were supposed to work. She placed her palm against the ground, then took a deep breath. "Okay, you ready?"
Susan pushed out a breath through her nose. "Yeah, let's get this over with."
She didn't think it would work, didn't think it was real, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that Lucy believed. She placed her forefinger on the first line of the incantation they had translated and memorized, and they began to read as one. The strange words rolled off their tongues into the dark night, and as they read the light breeze seemed to become a wind, whispering through the trees. They creaked and groaned, swaying above them, the whisper becoming an eerie whistle, rustling the dead leaves and sending them fluttering across the clearing.
And just as they spoke the final words, the wind died, and the clearing was silent. They knelt there, waiting, silent except for the scraping of their breaths and the pounding of Lucy's erratic heartbeat. There came no surge of power, no flash of heavenly light. The clearing was dark and silent, and Lucy felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, gooseflesh tickling her arms as the eerie silence hung over them. A sliver of dismay crept into her posture, and she sighed through her nose and turned to Susan.
Her friend flashed her a sympathetic smile, reaching out to touch her hand. "I mean, it was worth a try-"
She trailed off suddenly, her eyes going wide as they slid past Lucy, and she hissed a startled shriek, grasping her friend's arm.
Lucy spun, and went very still as she saw the figure crouched in the centre of the clearing, in the very centre of the chalk circle. Her heart begin to beat anew, her fingers clutching Susan's arm. She swallowed, breathing hard.
It had worked. It had actually worked.
But why did something feel...wrong?
The gooseflesh prickled over her skin, and a primal warning seemed to tug at her senses. "E...Eros?" she tried, barely a whisper, unable to keep the shake from her voice. "Aph-"
The figure stiffened, neck arching, and slowly swiveled to look over its shoulder at them. It was about then that the cold grip of dread began to tighten around her, and as the figure silently rose her breath caught in a squeak. Susan was shaking her head, her fingers digging painfully into her arm. "Lucy..." she forced out, voice shaking. "This...this isn't right...that's not..."
The figure standing before them was no bronzed Greek God, or any other God or Goddess Lucy was familiar with. It bore no wings, carried no bow. The creature was feminine, tall and slender, although something seemed...wrong, about it. The limbs weren't right, the knees bent at strange angles, fingers ending in shadowy claws. Her skin was ghostly pale, and clothed in inky black markings that bound her like tattered cloth.
But it was the mask she wore that sent fear shivering through Lucy, a mask of bone. It resembled a skull, a goat's, with dark horns curving into the air. Red eyes glowed from within the darkness of the bone, like twin flames burning as they fixed on Lucy.
"L...lucy, we have to go!"
