"Shouldn't we get naked?" said Greg hopefully.
Sofia shot him a dirty look.
"This is scientific, not Satanic, Greg," she said.
"Whatever." Six hours ago he'd come to her apartment with flowers and a huge bottle of strawberry vodka; he'd ended up drinking the vodka, while Sofia drank black coffee and drew on the floor of her apartment. It figured that his first date with a hottie from Miskatonic U would consist of watching her draw pentagrams.
"Okay, you can start lighting the candles, Greg," she said. "If you're not too drunk already."
"I'm not drunk at all," said Greg, congratulating himself on the minimal amount of slur in his voice. He pulled out his lighter and tried to flick it on casually, slipped and burned his finger a little, said "Ow" before he could stop himself, and then dropped the lighter. He scrabbled on the floor for a moment. "Fuck," he said.
Sofia watched him silently.
Finally he got the lighter and started lighting up the ring of candles Sofia had arranged around the pentagram. Each of the nine candles was in the centre of a weird symbol, drawn in red paint; Sofia had copied them all out of a heavy leather-bound tome she kept on the table. "Where'd you get that?" Greg had asked when he first saw it. "Don't touch it," had been Sofia's only reply. She had incredible legs and perfect tits, but even Greg had to admit she came across a bit cold.
"Okay," said Sofia, "now you stand in the centre and I'm going to read from the Ritual of Black Khazaghul."
"Uh, is this safe?" said Greg.
"Probably," said Sofia, "I mean, why wouldn't it be?"
Greg thought he detected a note of sarcasm in her voice but he decided to ignore it. He stood in the middle of the pentagram and folded his arms.
"I'm pretty sure we're supposed to be naked for this," he said. "I saw it in a movie -"
"Yeah, I bet you did," said Sofia.
"I'm just saying, what if it doesn't work because -"
"Let me just check the instructions written by Khazaghul, First Sorcerer of the Ark of Infernal Shadows," said Sofia. "Hm, oh look, I've already read it two hundred times and there's nothing about clothes in there at all, so shut your dumb face, Greg, or I'll find someone else to help me with this."
"Who else is going to put up with this bullshit," Greg mumbled, fully aware that the answer was "anyone horny and attracted to knockout girls in gym pants." Sofia ignored him and leaned over the book. "Quiet now," she said, "I'm going to start reading and I swear to God, if you interrupt me, it could open a rift in the Veil between Earth and the Infernal Realms that will devour us all, so for fuck's sake please keep your mouth shut."
"Fine."
"Okay," said Sofia. "Here we go. IYO ENCANTAR KE KZEGAZA. SHAVASHASHA KHUGRAR CH'THYOREKK, KHA ULALUKLA KOVESH GHULKEL. MAGRASHTA YANG-KLUD WYR FULLUK. KHE DASHKA TAKL'ZUL! KHE DASHKA TAKL'ZUL!"
Greg very carefully did not say anything, but he noticed that two of the symbols on the floor had changed from dull red to flaming orange, and were emitting a blazing light, which he thought was fairly unusual.
"KHE DASHA TAKL'ZUL! KHE DASHKA TAKL'ZUL!" Sofia wailed, nine times in all. After each wail another symbol blazed with infernal fire. When all nine had lit, the pentagram burst into flame, as did Greg's hair. He screamed and started punching himself in the scalp.
"FUCK!" he yelled. "Sofia, I'm on fire! Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck fuckfuckfuckfuck!"
Greg realized that he was no longer standing in Sofia's apartment but on a vast plain of dark stone. Above him the sky was the colour of dull blood, and a skull-shaped moon leered down upon him with awful iridescence. On the horizon of the blasted plain loomed sullen ruins and crumbling pillars of ancient stone, forgotten by the living. Also his clothes were now on fire.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," said Greg, swatting at his clothes. In front of him stood a man in mouldering grey robes, his face a wreck of scars, blood issuing from his wrists. "Thank the Spirits of Light," gasped the man. "The incantation worked! Who are you, traveler of worlds?"
"Ahhhhhhhhh," said Greg.
"Wait," said the ragged man, snapping his fingers. Greg stopped being on fire instantly. He patted himself gingerly to make sure he wasn't seared too much.
"Listen," said the ragged man. "I don't have much time before the darkness takes me! Please, listen, walker of the worlds. My name is Alharazed of Kithros. I traveled here to rescue my beloved, the Princess Kitra, who was kidnapped by demons. Alas... the Infernal Realm has many temptations. I entered into a binding contract with the demons of fire, who promised me power in exchange for my soul... and my contract has come due. Please, for my sake, rescue my love from the evil that binds her - the utterly wicked and degenerate Zagrazel, Duke of Filth!"
"Um," said Greg.
"I brought with me an ancient sword, built to slay lesser demons of Hell," gasped Alharazed. "Please, take it! Take my place, warrior, and return the Princess Kitra to her homeland!"
He held up the hilt of an enormous sword with a black of the blackest obsidian, whose hilt glistened with strange jewels. Greg took it automatically and then immediately dropped it. It was heavier than he expected.
