alking through
the streets, Ozzy fought to suppress the urge to look over his shoulder. He
felt as though he was not alone. The rain continued to poor down, and the wind
whipped it into his face ever-so often, as if Mother Nature were slapping him
in disapproval. Was it just a coincidence that every time he had a meeting planned
at the North Point, a rocky cliff overlooking the turbulent waters of the bay,
that the weather turned foul? Or was the business that occurred there directly
responsible in some way? Never the less, Ozzy continued on his way. He couldn't
say that he was unaware of the dangers present, or that he was innocent of participating
in the things that would make most people shiver in fear. He often asked himself
why he had ever gotten involved in these kinds of doings. But he always shook
off these thoughts, believing that everything happens for a reason, that Fate
could not be disappointed, nor turned away from his door. Suddenly, thunder
shook from the hills before him, reminding him that the time for the meeting
was approaching. He could not change what was about to happen, even if he tried.
He was helpless to the powers that he was dealing with. He could only carry
out his deeds, for refusing to follow the path that was most surely his own
would bring a wrath upon himself that could only be described as a fate worse
than death.As he reached the summit, the rain suddenly stopped, as if on cue. Now he had only to wait for his liaison to commence. He reached into his pocket to make sure that he had remembered to bring all of the required items for the night's proceedings. If he had forgotten anything, all of the planned activities would have been altered. His punishment would be extreme. Fortunately, he was equipped with the tools necessary to complete his task that was given to him on this evening, the night of his darkened soul's burden. Now, Ozzy began to sprinkle a powder, made from a mixture of flour and other assorted acquirements, in a large circle. Each ingredient of the powder was crucial to the success of it's employment. And then, the wind stopped. Even the sounds of the wild were gone, as if every living creature had disappeared from the face of the earth. But still, Ozzy did not feel alone. That sense of someone, or something, was lurking somewhere nearby. Ozzy did not hesitate in his preparations. He knew that his time of waiting for the events to transpire was coming to a close.
A flash from the heavens, and there he was. Or there it was. Standing tall before him, his presence was intimidating. Ozzy tried to look into his eyes, but couldn't. All he could see was an all-engulfing fire. A fire that came from another place. An unholy place. But Ozzy did not cower, or show any signs of fear what-so-ever. That would surely have been his undoing, a weakness that would have opened a door to the presence. Ozzy continued with his ceremony, undaunted, lighting the candles one by one, chanting the verses of the Ancient Ones. The presence moved closer.
"I have come, in the name of the Magus, the soul that required your participation this evening!" Ozzy said with distinction. A sound engulfed Ozzy, seemingly rising from below the ground on which he stood. So eerie was this sound, that it could only have originated from one place. Ozzy realized that it was the voice of the being...