Blue and bloody, that’s how a moon should be

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Bigger and almost cartoonish in its appearance, the ruddy moon dominated the clear, cool night sky. One big smile and only one at this great fortune was permitted before the start of the night’s events.

The rare anomaly of the super blue blood moon was a good omen. It happened at the same time as this masterfully planned project. The new phase couldn’t have happened at a better time.

Candles flickered and cast geometrically shaped shadows against the walls. Crystals of various kinds and function littered the space. The air was full of potential to aid in producing the kinetic energy needed to succeed in the task at hand. Alone in the upscale high rise penthouse condo without distraction nothing was impossible.

It wasn’t every night one could summon the power to rip a hole in the time-space continuum. Tonight it would come by way of the potency of a human host. Many phenomena had aligned to make this the perfect time to carry out the feat.

Moonlight flooded the room with its pale luminescent light. This corner of the open concept condo granted access to the sky at the right degree and direction. The location was perfect. It won for its elevation from the gravitational pull of the ground. The three exterior glass walls to the living room pushed it over the top.

Yes, even the stars were in agreement with the program.

The last check of the host’s trackers revealed no new signs of activity. No matter. This event would be powerful enough to do its job with or without knowledge of an exact location in this realm. The last known location would suffice as a point of reference. The last known location would suffice as a point of reference. That reasoning provided a good enough point to move on. The night’s work could commence.

In preparation for the event, every item for use was new, cleansed, and ready for service. No contents, ingredients, or products resided within ten feet of the consecrated circle. Nothing of questionable lineage would sabotage this ritual.

When the time grew near, the specimen went into the ancient Egyptian platinum bowl. Care was taken to add exact amounts of other ingredients to create the transaction.

Sorcery was an exact practice that traversed realms. Like its children, science, and technology, sorcery required discipline. The patience and precision to execute its tasks demanded discipline. The less stringent rituals of the earth-tethered witchcraft couldn't compare.

The event tonight had taken a long time to craft. All the sacrifice, training, and determination were the least requirements needed. To pull off a task of this size took skill and gift. Both were in plentiful here tonight.

A five minute chimed from one of the electronic devices far enough away from the working area. It signaled the warning to finish the preparations. Another one would sound at the one minute and a final one at the start time.

At the precise stroke of 11:11 pm the chemical reaction of the warring elements reacted with the platinum of the bowl. Neon and brilliant in the otherwise moonlit room, the flame danced a jig to rival a snake charmer’s best effort. The flame glared with potent energy, far beyond the comprehension of this realm.

Intention coupled with intense emotion to succeed and persevere. With no time to spare, the combination formed and funneled toward the flame. Slow to respond, the flame continued to wave and flutter in defiance.

Undaunted and unwilling to accept anything but acquiescence, more concentration was heaped onto the intention to produce the desired result. Thoughts were swatted away, doubts banished, and fears denied entrance as more will was forced into the funnel of control.

When it seemed the magical minute would expire without success, the flame bent forward at an almost perfect ninety-degree angle in obedience. Encouraged to proceed, the final ingredients needed for this stage were added to the bowl at the base of the flame. The result was a dazzling miniature cyclone funnel contained in the bowl.

A hand, stilled from trembling by sheer force of will, scooped the mini cyclone flame and brought it close. Obedient and controlled by the powerful sorcery wielded, the flame neither burned or left the confines of the palm. This was going to work.

Convinced it was time to move into the active part of the task, focused intention narrowed the flame funnel to a point sharp enough to act as a knifepoint.

“Ah good, yes.” The words came out with a tinge of reverent awe.

The moment was ripe for action. The picture of the woman most of the world would find breathtaking lay next to the bowl. Social media was a wonderful boon to the esoteric, arcane arts. Most of anything needed could be found with a few clicks through a search engine. Chosen for capturing the correct profile, most exposed skin, and full body of the target, the bikini picture looked to have been taken on vacation. Funny, it could have been made to order for the part it would play tonight. Done admiring the handiwork of finding that photo, it was time to move forward.

Clean white linen cloth was used to cover and provide a barrier from touching as it was placed in the bowl. That done the flame was positioned at an angle to become a stylus in the hand of the wielder.

Patient care guided the hand as the flame made contact with the photo. Its tip traced a burning line down the image from the temple of that face to the side of the heel of the foot. If an image of the bottom of the feet could have been procured, the flame would have been used there as well. Without a more recent picture, a guesstimate had to be made of where the tangible markings were etched in the skin.

The work met satisfaction.

It was time to add the necessary kinetic energy. Body movement would act as the catalyst to fuel the event. Power over elements to create ruptures in realms was a delicate operation. Adding kinetic power to the spell would punch up the efficacy enough to make it a lasting success.

Respect for what was about to happen in the fabric of the selected realms quieted any speck of emotions. Anything not conducive to promoting that goal wouldn't gain any attention. In agreement with the impact of what the moment would produce, the body stilled to become one with the flame.

The desired result manifested.

Awe and anticipation broke through apprehension. The phenomenon of the flame spell expanded the entryway crafted on the photo. When enough time had passed to solidify the work thus far, the flame stylus went back into the bowl. It twirled above the marked photo defying earth’s gravity.

That part was finished. It was time to see if all the physical training had paid off.

Standing and clad in raw materials free of dyes, fragrances, and other chemicals that could interfere, the necessary essential oils went on the pulse points. Each one was chosen for its chemical, sensual, and biological potency to trigger an animation of the spell.

This was the beginning of the last part of the procedure and would be the most dangerous.

Moonlight spilled into the room to cast an eerie glow. The circle consecrated by the power of the super blue blood moon began to sparkle. It twinkled with hints of electric force and power. The most strenuous part of the conjuring began.

Movements arcane and esoteric started to take shape.

Over a year of research, learning and training at great financial and personal expense, couldn’t douse the exhilaration of this moment. The path to untold power was being forged, one layer at a time.

Each flex of a muscle, bend of a limb, and gesture commingled with forces beyond the reach of human limitations. The procedure established a new bridge to the multiverse.

Hope that all the months spent in practice paid off surrounded the sight. The construct of this phase depended on layers. Each layer contained a specific set of gyrations and mixtures. Many of the movements and ingredients were esoteric, forgotten and buried until now.

Most of the movements were precise to the point of degrees. The alchemical mixtures were no less forgiving. They required stringent discipline to produce. Gestures with accompanying mixtures would be added to the bowl at specific intervals. Failure on any meant total failure at all.

Doing this alone was a great risk as each layer grew in complexity and temperament. The perfection of execution was the only avenue to success.

Perspiration began to glisten as another layer was completed.

Each set was completed in the dictated specific order. Never rushed, the layers were executed with as much perfection as possible. Going through the motions in concentration and patience took a toll.

Perfection was a moving target that was influenced by too many factors to count. That’s why having the super blue blood moon was so helpful. The moon acted as a shortcut. It helped to stabilize and hold in stasis a lot of elemental factors that would normally be too volatile to control.

This was indeed a great night.

Completion of each layer moved the spell closer to the nucleus of power. That power would continue to fuel the spell in perpetuity. Meticulous attention and devotion propelled the casting forward. Movements worked through the process until the last concluded some hours later.

Tired like never before but happy with the results, the body relented to collapse to the floor in exhausted contentment.

Quick as not to waste precious energy, a glance at the clock showed it to be 2:03 am. A little ahead of schedule, five more minutes were spared to rest before moving on.

Once recuperated enough to move, it was time to finish the task and conclude the night. Crawling back over to the now emaciated flicker of a flame, the last of the special ingredients were added to the bowl.

Instead of the vibrant resurrection of flame that was expected, one pronounced pop and crackle sizzled to announce the last gasp of the flame. Then it went out. As if free of a great restraining wall, darkness flooded back in to overtake the details of the room. The room hid its contents once the night, save the moonlight, doused it. The bowl made its location known by the faintest illumination of the dying embers of the flame.

“No, no, no, I’m not finished. The seal hasn’t been cast yet, no!” Panic-infused energy rushed the words out into the carefully constructed atmosphere of the room.

Able to ping off the sparseness of decorations, remnant echoes of the words bore down to taunt and accuse of incompetence. What defense could be waged? The evidence of failure cloaked the room in darkness.

Even with the added power of a super blue blood moon, there wasn’t enough within to successfully pull this off. That old nemesis, self-loathing, slithered up from the depths of the mental dungeon. It heaped accusations and embarrassing facts.

Your best wasn’t good enough. You blew it and couldn’t deliver on your promise. Your word has no power. You have no power. They’re going to kill you for your failure.

Too tired to do more than slump back down to the sanctuary of the cool hardwood flooring, all that could be done was regroup and push personal haunts back to the recesses and shadows where they belonged.

With that vicious inner critic caged again, thoughts of how to fix this formed and came to the forefront of realization. Yes, there was a way to fix this. More oxygen to fill the body. Once sitting upright, the blueprint of the map to success was updated and expanded with the contingency details.

Defeat wasn’t an option. With the light of this new day came another opportunity to make the scheme work. Perseverance and diligence conjured up the strength to get up and tidy up.

When all evidence of the event had been removed and cleaned, it was time to retire to sleep. After strength was regained, the new plan would go into action. This one called for help. Help that wouldn’t refuse.

“Soon,” was the last word uttered in the dark, quiet room.

In the bed, as the last thought circled the drain to give way to slumber, a pain, sharp and piercing, struck the inner socket of the eye.

Please no, not the start of a migraine.

The uncertainty that it wasn’t a counterattack crowded in to confuse the situation. This dull throbbing start of what could be an excruciating and long-lasting pain was either a migraine or external interference.

More brain power was sacrificed to run down the portions of the spell that had been cast to completion tonight. Had the breach taken root? Without anymore material to work with, it was hard to know how much of the night’s work had been a success.

It was hard to figure out which of the two reasons for pain would be the lesser evil. Weighed against each other, it was a toss-up.

Migraines born of sorcery work were gruesome. Was someone or something privy to what had been put into motion?

Then there was the other reason. Was an opposing force with a specific goal at work? That notion was too complicated to deal with in this current mental state. Confronting an unknown magical opponent would have to wait.

“Tomorrow, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

That pronouncement permitted the mind to stop all the thoughts. Exhaustion was kind enough to blot out everything else as slumber claimed its prey.