Heretics book 3 - The Apocryphile Press

88 :: JOHN R. MABRY
“I say we preserve the scene and risk it,” Richard decided.
“Imitatio Christi, dude. Let’s sacrifice ourselves!”
“You know, for a straight man, you’re absolutely the
biggest damn drama queen in the Order.”
“Ah weel take that as a cahhmpliment,” Dylan drawled
exaggeratedly, his best Scarlett O’Hara impersonation.
They entered and waited a moment for their eyes to
adjust. At first it seemed to be a typical single-man’s home,
except for the clammy feeling of cosmic dread that hung
heavy in the place. “You feel that?” Richard asked.
“Oh, yeah. Heavy nasties goin’ on in here, that’s fer damn
sure.”
Dylan went off to the right to investigate the bedrooms.
Richard glanced at the piles of gaming magazines, the lessthan-tidy
kitchen. Then he rounded the corner into the living
room. “Fuck...” he breathed.
Dylan caught up to him in a moment. “Hey, dude, bedrooms
are a disaster, but nothing paranormal—whoa....”
Together they stared in awe. It was, in their eyes, a thing
of beauty. The Circles of Evocation had been literally burned
into the hardwood floors, creating a permanent working
space that was both functional and elegant.
“God, how many hours must this have taken?” Richard
wondered aloud, squatting to get a closer look. “It looks like
it was done with a pen wood-burner.”
“Some project, that’s for sure.”
The outer circle was about nine feet in diameter, a second
circle set within it about a foot all around. Within the second,
smaller circle, four Stars of David were set in each of
the cardinal directions. The bottom tips of each of the Stars
formed the corner of a square in the center of the circle, each
side of which was inscribed with one of the four letters of the
Tetragrammaton. Just to the East of the circle was a triangle,
each side about three feet long, with the flat side facing