Humans Bite Back

“Hello? Is someone out there?” a ghostly voice cried out. “Please help me,” it pleaded, “I’ve been here so long…I’m in such agony.”

I walked over to the iron maiden in the corner of the room and slid open the slot that Edna had custom-made so she could peer into the eyes of her victims, revealing two watery, blood-shot eyes. “Hey, Ricky, can you keep it down? We are trying to conduct business out here.”

“Please let me go,” Ricky pleaded, “I won’t tell anybody; she never has to know.”

“No can do, Ricky,” I told him firmly, “The last time you tricked me into letting you out early, you tried to hit Edna up for a refund.”

“Fair enough,” Ricky replied, “But can you do me a favor and squirt a little vinegar in my eyes?”

“I’ll have to charge you extra,” I warned him.

Ricky sighed heavily, “Just close the slot and leave me be then.”

“Sure thing, buddy,” I said, turning away so The Grandmaster meeting could commence. The others were as anxious as I was to meet. They had arrived early, all donning their Grandmasters caps.

I unstrapped my backpack and plopped it down onto a crate, “I wanted to show you guys this at our last meeting,” I told them as I unzipped the pack and fished out my mother’s grimoire.

“You stole a grimoire?” Kenny gasped, “I’m not judging, but I heard grimoires form a bond with their owner and often don’t take kindly to being kidnapped.”

“I didn’t steal it, not really,” I told him, “It had belonged to my mother.”

“What do you mean by “not really”? How did you get it?” Kenny pressed me.

“My father kept it hidden in a secret passage in our closet; I took it when I was picking out items for Death Row. My Aunt Finn was searching our house; I suppose she rightfully can place claim to it.”

Jacob picked it up and examined it, “Do you even know how to open it?” he asked. “Of course I do,” I snapped, “Sort of; Petra had opened her grimoire in front of me, so I have seen it done; I just never tried it on my own.”

I placed the book before me and repeated the incantation I had watched Petra perform. At first, there was nothing but silence, and I was afraid that I had gotten the ritual wrong, but then there was a foreboding creak, and then the book cracked open, expulsing a cloud of dust that sent all off the Grandmasters into a fit of coughing spasms.

“Open the hatch,” Ricky demanded, “I will have what you’re having.”

“Pipe down, Ricky,” I gasped as I rushed to the back door and flung it open to allow the dust particles that had filled the room to escape.

Once the dust settled, I relocked the door and noticed that Jacob made gasping sounds and clawed at his throat when I shut the door. “I swallowed a good bit of it,” he managed.

“I’ll go get you some water,” I offered, but before I entered the store, Bryce stopped me. “No need, I have some drinks,” he said, unzipping his backpack and extracting a bright red can he held out to Jacob.

“What is it?” Jacob asked as he attempted to read the blurry lettering scrawled against the can. “Red Death,” Jacob said, reading the label, “Are you sure these are safe to consume?”

“I think so; the humans seem to like them,” Bryce offered, “Some guy was giving them away on Breeze Street.”

“He was just giving them away for free?” I asked as I accepted the blue can that Bryce offered me. “Brain Freeze,” I read aloud, “It doesn’t sound too appealing; perhaps that was why they were free.”

“I think it was a promotional giveaway,” Bryce corrected me, “I heard that an energy drink company purchased the old factory.”

“They put up an electrified fence to protect some energy drinks?” I asked, shaking my head in disbelief. I popped the tab and lifted my drink for a toast. “To The Grandmasters,” I said and then threw back my head to take a large chug from the can.

I realized my mistake too late, and the foul liquid slid down my throat before I had a chance to spit it out. I couldn’t help but make a face as my stomach did a flip-flop. “That is awful,” I declared, “Who would drink this stuff, let alone pay good money for it?”

Bryce was making a sour expression as he said, “Sorry, guys, the humans seemed to enjoy it. I had to wait for a line to clear before I could approach the kiosk.”

“Humans are notorious for their horrible taste,” I reasoned, setting my can aside, and making a mental note to dispose of it before we left. “Why don’t we get back to the book?” I suggested; then to be on the safe side, we all covered our mouths and noses in case the book coughed up anything else.

“Maybe there’s something in there that may aid us in subduing rabid humans,” Kenny suggested, “I know we can’t do them no harm or interfere with their free will, but maybe we can stall them long enough so we can make our escape.”

I studied the book; I wanted to try a fire spell that seemed simple enough, but Kenny was right; we should be practicing practical magic. “There is a levitation spell,” I commented, “A human would pause once they realized their feet were no longer touching the ground.”

“We should start small and work our way up,” Kenny agreed, “Is there anything we can borrow from the shop?”

I did a mental catalog of Edna’s inventory, and none of the merchandise that sprang to mind seemed suitable to handle. “Why don’t we dump out a couple of those energy drinks?” I suggested, “The aluminum cans should be light enough for us to suspend.”

“I’ll go pour these out,” Bryce offered, seizing a couple of cans. “Just don’t do it in the path of the door; I wouldn’t want anyone tracking it inside on the bottom of their shoes.”

“Alright, Mom,” Bryce teased as he pushed the door open with his hip and carried the cans outdoors.

I reviewed the book, “The Spell is written in Latin; we will need to pronounce the words properly if we expect the spell to work.”

“I can help,” Ricky offered from his iron prison. “I just happen to be fluent.”

“Do you think you can try a fire spell next?” a voice piped in from one of the crates lined against the wall, “It’s been a while since I’ve been warmed over a nice fire.”

“Oh, hey, Mr. Mckim, I didn’t realize that you were on the roster today,” I greeted him. “I was due for some deprivation,” he replied, “So any hopes of getting a good fire started?”

“I would,” I told him truthfully, “But I don’t think Edna would approve of me starting a fire in her shop.”

Bryce returned with the empty cans, “I dumped them by the far corner so no one would track it back in on their shoes.”

“Good thinking, these floors are sticky enough,” I told him. There was an empty crate against the wall; I pulled it out so there would be enough room for us to circle it. “Place the can in the center; the covens borrow power from each other, so I think we should do the same,”

“Levitas gravitate,” I read aloud from the book. “Not bad,” Ricky commented, “But repeat it until it rolls off your tongue.”

Together, The Grandmasters began to practice the incantation. Soon enough, we were all chanting in sync while focusing on our aluminum subject.

We chanted for a while, though I thought the can have moved at one point; I couldn’t be too sure. My eyes grew tired because I was too afraid to blink, and soon enough, my voice began to wan when we failed to achieve levitation.

I began to feel frustrated and impatient; though I did my best to remain calm, I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “Move, damn it,” I commanded the can once I was at the point of giving up, and as if the thin metal had heard me, it began to rise from the crate.

The chant recovered its steam as the can began to rise higher and higher, finally stopping at eye level as it started to rotate in the center of the circle. My throat was raw, and I had to pause, but the moment I did, the aluminum can dropped from the air, bounced on the crate, and rolled away.

“That was awesome.” Jacob declared, “I wonder if we can do it on our own?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try,” I said, recovering the can and placing it onto the crate. “Give it a go.”

Jacob tried first, his voice confident as he repeated the chant, but when there was no result, he grew visibly frustrated, and droplets of perspiration began to form on his brow. “Come on, you can do it,” I thought as I focused on Jacob. Though I wasn’t focused on the can this time, It began to rise.

They only levitated an inch from the wood, and it didn’t remain suspended for long. This time it didn’t drop suddenly but slowly lowered back onto the wooden slate.

“I want to try next,” Bryce exclaimed. I put a hand up, “I don’t think it’s just the words, guys,” I told them, “I think we have to put some feeling behind it.”

“Yeah, I really wanted to succeed, and I did,” Jacob added proudly.

“I think our feelings control our magic; the chant is a command. I also think it helps if we mentally cheer each other on; maybe that’s what the witches mean by borrowing magic.”

Bryce took control of the levitation spell, he was able to accomplish the task quicker than Jacob, and when Kenny’s turn came, he succeeded his predecessors.

When my turn finally came, not only did it levitate, it began to spin. I urged it to spin so fast that the colors began to blur and run together. Before I knew it, I lost control, and the container propelled into the ceiling with such force that when it fell, we could see that the impact had partially crushed the can.

The other Grandmasters regarded the can for a moment and then burst into cheers. Kenny clapped me on the back, “That’s my guy,” he said, giving me a partial hug.

“Shall we practice some more?” I asked them as I tossed the crushed can into a nearby trash bin.

“I think we should try something else,” Kenny put forward, “I’m getting kind of bored.”

“Yes, but practice makes perfect,” I urged, but I could tell by the other’s expressions that they were in complete agreement with Kenny. “We all should practice at home,” I relented as I returned to the book and began to flip through the pages.

“Most of these are nature spells, conjuring the elements,” I commented, “We might want to take a trip to the woods at some point….” I paused as I attempted to thumb to the next page, and it was unyielding. It appeared that this was the case for the remainder of the grimoire.

“Maybe something sticky got on the pages,” Kenny suggested, “So that you don’t rip the spells, try prying it apart from the center.”

I did as Kenny suggested, but as my fingers touched upon the pages, I had an intrusive thought, which wasn’t unusual, but in a language that I could only assume was Latin, “vinculum,”

The word just popped into my head, and before I had a chance to ask Ricky to translate, the letters began to bleed from the pages and stain my fingertips and hands; in my shock, I wanted to release the book, but I was bound.

I looked at the other Grandmasters and shook my head in disbelief, not entirely understanding what was happening. While my fingers still clung to each end of the book, it flung open, but before I could read the words, they scattered and began to crawl into my hands, branding my skin briefly before becoming absorbed.

Finally, the book released me, and I lifted my palms as I watched in horror as the last of the grimoire disappeared.

Kenny seized the book and began to flip through the book’s leaves which were flowing free now. “It’s empty,” he cried, “All the spells are gone!”

“What happened?” Bryce demanded. I could do nothing but shrug helplessly as I continued to examine my now clean hands.

“It was probably a protection placed by the grimoire's owner,” Ricky piped up from the iron maiden. “Witches are known to set traps so prying eyes can’t infiltrate their grimoires.”

“Thanks for warning us,” Kenny retorted as he slammed the book closed.

“I thought it was common knowledge,” Ricky defended himself. “Are you kids sure you’re warlocks? You are pretty bad at it.”

“The worst,” Mr. Mckim agreed from his place in the crates.

“We were just getting somewhere,” Jacob whined, throwing up his hands helplessly, “Now what are we going to do?”

I picked up the blank grimoire, “It’s a blank slate,” I said, feeling disappointed, but then I was struck with an inspiring idea. “What if we made one of our own?” I suggested, “A Grandmaster spell-book.”

“How are we going to do that? We only know one spell,” Bryce pointed out.

I walked over to my backpack and retrieved an ink pen. “And that is the first spell we will record in our grimoire,” I said, “We know now that spell casting is more than just chanting, so we should include instructions, such as what we were feeling and what thought spurned our conjuring.”

“Bishops right,” Kenny said, “The Grandmasters should have our own grimoire.”

“We can eventually make fashion our own book,” Jacob said, warming up to the idea, “And set our traps so no one else can read it.”

“I like the thought of having a Grandmaster grimoire,” Bryce admitted, “But what material should we bind it with?”

“My great granny fashioned hers out of the foreskins of disappointing lovers,” Kenny offered but was quick to add, “I’m not suggesting we do the same, but most witches fashion their bindings to represent their passion.”

“We can use my mother’s grimoire for now, and then later we can decide what we are most passionate about as a collective,” I said as I finished penning the spell and shoving the empty grimoire back into my bag.

“Bishop,” Edna called out as she tapped on the door, “Are you boys decent? I wouldn’t want to interrupt any naked dancing.”

“Why would she think we would be naked?” Kenny asked, giving me a quizzical look.

“Or dancing,” Jacob added, looking equally perplexed.

“It’s what Edna assumes that witches do when they convene,” I said, rolling my eyes.

I rushed to the door and swung it open. “I don’t mean to be a bother, but I still need to pour salt in Ricky’s wounds and prepare the stalls for my next customer.”

“No problem, Edna,” I told her, “We were just finishing up here anyway. Just let us tidy up, and we will be out of your way,”

We rushed to tidy up the room; Bryce took the remaining energy drinks outside to empty them for disposal, only to dash back inside a few minutes later. “Guys, you got to come out here and see this.”

The expression on his face was enough to send us all racing out into the ally where a rodent war was in progress.

The rats ignored us as they attacked each other, fighting to lap up dark liquid from the concrete. “What are they doing?” I wondered aloud.

“I think they are fighting over the energy drinks I poured out earlier,” Bryce said, pointing at the dark spot on the asphalt.

“Ew, why?” Jacob asked, wrinkling his nose, “I still haven’t gotten the taste out of my mouth.”

“They may be just hungry,” Kenny suggested, “If they were smart, they would head over to the brewery and score some yeast,”

One of the rats stopped lapping up the drink and started sniffing the air as if on cue; the rest of the nest responded, all raising their noses in the air. Suddenly, their necks snapped in our direction.

“I think we should get going now,” I said, taking a few steps back, afraid of turning away.

“Maybe we should try to scare them off?” Bryce suggested as the rats began to move forward, matching our pace.

One of the rats eyed the cans that were still clutched in Bryce’s fists. “I don’t think they want us,” I told them, “I think they want the energy drinks that Bryce I holding.”

Bryce looked down at the drinks in his hands before he tossed them so that the liquid splashed across the pavement and walls.

The alley exploded with the sound of claws racing in the direction of the sticky liquid. The cylinders rolled across the pavement, and the rats began fighting each other for possession.

“What’s wrong with them?” Bryce wondered aloud.

“It is well known that energy drinks are bad for people, but I only thought that applied to people,” Kenny offered.

“So humans are well aware that they’re bad for them, and they drink them anyway?” Jacob asked.

“The drinks are addictive; that’s why the beverage companies don’t worry too much about flavor,” I told him.

“So, it’s the addiction they like?” Jacob pressed as he continued to watch the rats squabble for every last drop.

“I’m not sure,” I told him honestly, “The only thing I know for a fact is that the last one to the car is rat bait.”