I quickly assemble the candles, gently placing them around the runic symbol painted on the floor. I go around the circle of candles, seven in total, quickly flicking them on using a spell I mutter under my breath.

I've done this a hundred times already. While I do this, my brain swirls with possibilities. I have to choose my questions very carefully. It'll be a whole week before I can try again. I shuffle towards my bag, rummaging through the many pockets of loose paper to find it.

Bingo. The mirror. When I feel it, a chill runs up my fingertips. I carefully pull it out, looking at it. The mirrors handle is beautiful, encrusted with a myriad of small, sparkling gem stones that glimmer in the night. The mirror itself is perfectly reflecting my face right now. I look dirty, like I was just in a fight. Terrible hair day, I suppose.

I tilt the mirror slightly, adjusting my grip to hold it more securely. To drop this would destroy everything I've worked for. When I tilt it, the reflection changes, almost seamless in the glow of twilight. It shows a younger version of me. Not too much younger, maybe two or three years back. My hair isn't nearly as long, or as messy. I get lost in the reflection, and I tilt it some more. I skip many many years. I'm no longer myself, but a past life of mine. I see a girl, a tall, sweet girl, one forced to smile and laugh due to the trauma she was forced to endure. I know much about her. I tilt it more, I see a boy, not to dissimilar to me. They are gaunt, their eyes sinking to the bottoms of the earth. I know much of them too. I tilt it even more, I can barely see the reflection now. I can just barely make out the tired but bright eyes of the third figure. They are blond, short, and full of life, despite their exhaustion. This one...I know little of.

I grit my teeth as I look away from what I have lost. No use thinking about that now. I need to summon him. I look at myself, the present version of myself again. This time, I'm in the middle of the rune. I chant a chant I've said so many times I could say it in my sleep.

When I finish the chant, the world around me fades away, a shrewd darkness eating my reality from under me. I feel cold, but also burning and tingling, as this darkness feeds it's way through me. My head. My heart. My throat. My body. It churns through me, causing me to radiate sensations. No pain. No pleasure. Just sensation of pure chaos. I have to force myself to stare at the dark, to disregard my mortal fears and thoughts, and do what my body screams not to do. I can't feel the ground under me. In fact, I can't feel my legs. My life is nearly fading away as I try with all my human willpower to not join the darkness. And then, I see him.

I see Abselsius' eyes glaring back at mine. All struggle immediately fades. The darkness is no longer a force of opposition, as Abselsius is controlling it. I relax, easing my muscles as the chaos wraps around me. And then I stare back at Abselsius. I once felt great fear looking at him. But not anymore. I have never seen his true form, but I have seen small bits. He appears to take the form of some kind of enormous beast. I can't say what it is, as I've only ever seen small bits for mere fractions of seconds. I see his eyes now, his body fully hidden, and I find comfort in them. For a few moments, nothing happens.

And then Abselsius speaks. "STATE YOUR PURPOSE, MORTAL" his voice booms, causing small vibrations to ring through my body. He speaks with power and confidence. Despite his large, imposing eyes, he cannot see me yet. I know this.

"It's me. Your follower. I'm here, just like I said I'd be."

"AH, ITS YOU, MORTAL. ASK YOUR QUESTIONS, WHILE IM STILL AMUSED."

"Okay...so, I isolated myself, as you asked me to do. I got 7 candles as well, and your Mirror, the one that lets me see the past, present, and future. Why aren't we together yet?"

"MORTAL, YOU SURELY MUST JEST. YOU NEED THE CANDLES OF SEVEN HUES, FOUND IN THE MAZE OF THE UNDERWORLD. YOU ONLY HAVE A FRACTION OF MY MIRROR AS WELL. YOU HAVE NOT COMPLETED THE RITUAL, THE ONE THAT WILL UNITE YOU AND I ONCE AND FOR ALL. YOU ARE FAR FROM DONE."

"What....why didn't you tell me that??"

"YOU NEVER ASKED, MORTAL. A SEVERE MISTAKE ON YOUR PART."

"...if I do this, we WILL actually be united forever, right?

"NEED I REMIND YOU WHY IM DOING THIS? I MADE A PROMISE TO YOU. WHILE IT MAY BE OUT OF LOVE FOR YOU, IT IS OUT OF OBLIGATION THAT I MUST ASSIST YOU. AND WHILE OUR BOND IS CLOSE, NO MORTAL HAS EVER WISHED TO UNITE WITH ME IN THE SPIRIT REALM. SO YES, MORTAL. WE WILL."

"but...you must share some affection to me, right?" I'm in despair. My heart nearly broke because of his last words. I need confirmation, or else I won't be able to continue going.

"I WOULD NOT HAVE MADE THAT PROMISE, HAD I NOT A BOND WITH YOU MORTAL."

Crap, I wasted a bunch of questions. Only two left. "So...where can I find this maze, and the mirror?"

"I CANNOT SIMPLY TELL YOU WHERE THE ARE, BUT THEY ARE NEAR, MORTAL. NEAR THE PLACE WHERE THE YOUTH LEARN THE FORBIDDEN MAGICKS. WHERE YOU ATTEND."

Very nice, one last question.

"...Why do you feel a bond with me?"

"IT IS NOT YOU, MORTAL. NOT THIS VERSION OF YOU. IT IS THE LIVES YOU ONCE LIVED I BOND WITH. YOU ARE MERELY A CONGLOMERATION OF ALL MY PREVIOUS MORTAL BONDS, NOW WITH A NEW ENERGY MIXED IN. I MUST GO, MY TIES TO THIS REALM GROW WEAK. SEEK THE MAZE, VENUS BLUDAY, AND WE SHALL SOON SPEAK AGAIN."

The moment he finishes saying this, everything goes back to normal. My body jolts in surprise. I question, but relish, his words.

I have a mission. Find the candles. Find the mirror. Become one with Abselsius.

What could go wrong?

I missed it.

I can't believe I missed it.

I jolt awake. I was trying to nod off, experiencing an exhausting day of paperwork and other boring junk. I was thinking. Thinking. Nothing but thinking. All I could do was think. About my life. About my failures. I'm not sure why I thought about it. I try to forget. Forget that day. But that's when I remembered it. I forgot that it was yesterday. I immediately shouted, my voice slightly cracking as my eyes nearly explode out from their sockets. My eyes begin to burn as my messy hair irritates my iris. I feel an incredible rage, but also fear, sadness, guilt. I am panting. Gasping for air. I latch onto the sheet, frantically whipping my head around, as if there's anything I could do. After the initial burst of emotion, I felt a sense of worthlessness. Almost self-pity. There's no way I could sleep now. I slowly dragged myself out of my covers, feeling like hundreds of pounds of metal as I rip them off my body. I'm sweaty, cold, as if I had a night terror. I'm calming down. My heart rate is slowing down, beating slowly, rhythmically. I plant my feet in the ground, and take a few hobbled steps towards the window. I'm wearing a baggy tee and some sweats. I forgot to change into sleeping clothes. I grip the railing on the patio, the stainless steel causing chills in my back. I look out. The Ranch is darker, now, the suns setting a few hours ago. I look down, and I gaze upon the wide open pastures, full of small dots. Little specks of livestock. Little green spots of trees. The planet is flat, so I can see for miles. The moons hang overhead, faintly illuminating the large blue planet in the reaches of space. There are a few, dim lights below, barely visible from where I am. It is silent, but I know down there, unseen bugs are chirping their songs in the grass.

If only I brought it. It might have counted. But it's too late. I go back to my bed, specifically to the small nightstand next to it. On it, my phone is sitting, charging as it always is. I grab it, wrenching it from its port and unlocking it, the bright digital light slightly blurring my vision. Instead of going to my journal, as I usually do, I go to the camera roll. I tap on the various folders and collections of photos, intently looking for the ones I'm searching for. I found them. Im scrolling now. Looking at her. Her eyes. Her face. Her smile.

She's at our old home. She's holding a book, the title not visible. The velvety red cover contrasting perfectly with her bright green eyes. She's smiling, grinning. She's happy. It's her birthday. I gave her a book. It was a long time ago, and many memories are lost. It was yesterday. Her birthday was yesterday. And I missed it. I keep scrolling. Now she's at the beach, a beautiful sunset and bright blue waves behind her. Now she's in a tent, which she set up herself. A lantern lights up her face, which is smeared in dirt. Now she's. Nevermind. I scrolled too far. I immediately throw my phone away, a weak thud sounding from the opposite wall. I slam my fists on the bed. I'm tearing up. I miss her. I miss people.

It's not fair. It's not fair that I have to be alone. Nothing can replace her. My loneliness eats me whole.

FBIP CASE DOCUMENTATION SERVICE

WARNING! This document has been classified as a LEVEL 3 access page. Unauthorized personnel liable to legal consequences.

ENTER CREDENTIALS TO PROCEED.

SCANNING...

...

...

...

VERIFIED. WELCOME, [EXPUNGED]


FBIP CASE ID No. 1176508

CASE STATUS: ACTIVE

Most recent entry 4/13/25

REVIEWED AND APPROVED BY [EXPUNGED]

SUSPECT No. 1:

NAME: VENUS BLUDAY

DOB: 2/13/08

SEX: TBD

BLOOD TYPE: A-

GENERAL DESCRIPTION:

Suspect is a 5'5" adolescent of indeterminate gender. Suspect appears thin, but not anorexic, and appears to be of European descent. Not much more of their appearance is known, due to lack of interaction. All information known from fellow student ERIKA LEROQ (SEE PG. 196 FOR MORE DETAILS). Goes by "V The Poet".



GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF MAJOR EVENT:

SUSPECT, AFTER NUMEROUS VIOLATIONS FROM HOUSING UNDOCUMENTED ANIMALS, WAS TO BE CONFRONTED BY V1. V1 APPROACHED SUSPECTS DORMITORY DOOR, LOST RADIO SIGNAL, AND WAS FOUND DECEASED IN UNDERGROUND PASSAGE BENEATH PSYCHIC HIGH SCHOOL. V1 FOUND WITH EXTREME BURNS ON BACK FROM C5 TO L2. GASHES ACROSS ABDONINOTHORACIC CAVITY WERE ALSO OBSERVED. NO EVIDENCE OF A STRUGGLE WERE FOUND. NO PRINTS OR DNA OF SUSPECT WERE DISCOVERED, HOWEVER SUSPECT ACTED EXTREMELY NERVOUS AND SUSPICIOUS WHEN CONFRONTED, BECOMING AGGRESSIVE WHEN [EXPUNGED] ATTEMPTED TO ENTER THEIR DORMITORY TO INTERROGATE THEM. EFFORTS ARE STILL BEING MADE TO CONTACT SUSPECT.

LOGGER: HEAD OF JUSTICE OFFICER [EXPUNGED]

THIS DOCUMENT IS SUBJECT TO EDITING AND REVISION.


GLORY TO GAIA

Is this working? I hope so. I'm set up in a brand new location. I've decided to take a short break and visit Orion Ranch. They had a whole area just for me! It's quite nice, and I didn't have to talk to or see anybody on the way there.

It's open, but cozy. It's a place to be comfortable in both rain and sun. It's a 1 bed, one bath suite, but it isn't small by any means. There's this enormous room, with thousands of books stacked hundreds of feet high. It's a supposed writing room. To be honest, its too fancy for me. I feel like I really don't belong in there, y'know? Anyways, I'm writing in my temporary bedroom at the moment. I should be back in a week or so, as long as the propieters of the ranch don't need help or something.

I'm really surprised they lent out this space for me for free. There's this small voice in my head (Not Abselsius, unfortunately) that's telling me something is wrong, but I honestly think that it's legit. The school did in fact sponsor this location, after all. I feel pretty safe.

Oh, but the one bad thing? The paperwork. Dear LORD, sooo much paperwork. I had to sign in digitally, check in digitally, I had to sign several forms, and a whole metric ton of wavers. I guess there's a lot of activities here, for people to do. I had to sign a form to prevent room service, cleanup during stay, I had to have my teacher write a slip that said I shouldn't receive food from workers - it was really painstaking.

I'm not sure what exactly I'm going to do during this week. Write, obviously, but also maybe catch up on some friends, read some books, dare I say draw (I love to doodle, but I never have time), the possibilities are endless. Oh, the Orion Ranch exclusive activities? Well...I'm not sure. I'm not a very active person, and I really don't want to have to interact with anybody. So unless there's an activity just for me, I'm probably going to pass. What's the point of going there then, you're probably asking. Well, I'm really here for a change of scenery and to have a nice, quiet place to catch up.

I heard the last guy who stayed here disappeared (died?). While I'm sure it was an accident, it did still give me an uneasy feeling for the first couple hours of staying here. Oh, speaking of bodies - @Herbert West , you should find one for you in front of my room door. Be careful not to step on any of the letters.

Oh yeah, today's letter of the day is from Haley O.

"V the poet,

What classes should I take if I wanted to have a profession in necromancy? I'm new to this school, so the amount of courses is overwhelming...help!

-Haley O."

That's a wonderful question. Get your necronomicon and take some notes, if it'll help. I'd start with general Ed incantations. It'll help you understand the various magicks. Then I'd take some kind of biology class, so you can understand the dead as well as summon them. After that, follow the progression chart provided by the school. If you don't have it, check the office or the Necromancy club leader for an extra copy. If you want to do a little more, perhaps take some summoning and occult classes as well, the two subjects go hand in hand.


I'm going to sign off for now. I need to settle in a little and try to work on summoning Abselsius for a little chat.

-V the Poet

I heard about this murder. It was pretty depressing. And, very surprising. I mean, why would somebody target a witches' family? It doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

I have a prediction as well. I don't think this killer is done yet. I don't think anybody is safe. I mean, why would they stop at just one? Y'know? I've read on my fair share of killers, and unless somebody has a personal vendetta against our victim, they aren't stopping at one.

I do have other, important things to do, so I may not be... particularly helpful at all. But I do support @Psy - Sean Sarris in his endeavors of uncovering and investigating this case.

And...I mean...if you want help, I would, like, totally be willing to help. For justice, of course - and not just because I think it'd be really dang cool to be a part of a murder mystery quest.

Ahem, anyways, if you need my services, you know where to find me. But, I'd greatly prefer if you'd just send a letter or a post instead of visiting me in person.


-V the poet

Woof...extra crazy one today.


So...there are...voices in my head? Yikes, I sound insane. Absolutely bonkers. You don't have to say it, I know you're thinking it. But I need to explain.


It just...started. I woke up yesterday...and, there was a man in my head. He speaks in very old English, so I'm guessing they're an old spirit of some kind. They spoke so cryptically I couldn't get any information. I can't even begin to repeat what they said. Although I understood it, they spoke in a way no human would. If I weren't a poet, I would have had no idea what they said.

Ahem...anyways, I began to ask questions. He didn't give any logical responses, only locations. Mind you, when I say locations, I'm talking about things such as "The pumpkine patche amongst thyne full moone" or something to the like. Not really a location, but a description of a possible place. Then, the strangest thing happened...he just, left. He said he needed to leave and... skedaddled on with his day?

I began to think. What could that have been? A ghost? A student? A hallucination? Its really impossible to say, even now. They're just...voices.

And yes, there are more than one.

After a few moments passed, another voice popped into my head. She said her name was Charlotte. I tried to ask questions...but...it's almost like they couldn't hear me. Don't get me wrong, they definitely tried to respond to my questions, but it's as if they only heard half of it, or small fractions of it. Like answering my queries wasn't their main objective. She warned me about psyhigh, and something called "The Seven". I assumed it to be worthless gibberish. Sorry, I STILL assume it's gibberish. Maybe my buddy @Herbert West knows a bit more about it?

After six questions, they disappeared once again. It's almost as if they believe they have bodies, or are real beings. In fact, I think they are. But what are they? Propaganda? Spirits? Demons?

But then, just as I was thinking that, a demon did start speaking.

They're name is Abselsius. That's what they said, at least. Abselsius, well, they were different than the other voices. They actually responded to me, logically. They were...surprisingly nice. I'm not sure if it's because of my isolation, but I felt very...happy? Talking to him? I'm fascinated by him. I'm going to ask if the wonderful @Herbert West can search the library for a book that he thinks could have more info.


Anyways, on to other matters. I appreciated the muffin. It was the best food I've had all week. Simply impeccable. Secondly, the letter. I'm not gonna read it. It made me very upset. No letter of the day.


-V the poet

Convenient...I also need bodies. I can't say why, but it seems we both need similar goals. There's somebody very close to me who needs them.


I will supply as many bodies as you need, my friend. I believe this is the start of a long and fruitful partnership.

With love, V

Herbie... Herbinator...there's just one problem.


I don't want to leave my room. If you would be so kind as to personally deliver it ... I would pay you. Just name your price! I wouldn't normally do this, believe me - I'm just very focused on something important right now. I'll say more about it in my next log.


Please?

-V

Yikes...okay. I'll get you a body. But...from where?


Aha! My dead fish!


I know it's not ideal...but maybe it would work?


-V the Poet

I know, I know, posting three times in just one day? A lot, even for a writer. However... I have an interesting development. It appears there is a voice from the beyond, a realm that no longer exists, a realm from which a dead god reigns, speaking to me in my head.

Geez, I sound crazy. But it's true! It's not intrusive or anything, nor does it seem to be using any product placement to effect my dreams. It's just...talking. alone. The last of it's kind. Forced to live even when reality itself decays, and the atoms we are made of no longer exist.

Anyways, I have a big chemistry test tomorrow. I'm trying to get a certain @Herbert West to give me my letter from the watchers. I'm probably not going to write about it's contents. Privacy, and all that.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm not talking to anybody, really. Like there isn't anybody viewing my letters, my posts, but I know that's not true. It's just scary, for all my work to potentially go unseen.

Yikes. Depressing post today.

Sorry folks.

-V the poet