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Daily wordcount: 621
Total wordcount: 6388
On/off target: -3614
Really, really starting to fall behind... Is this where I throw in the towel?
"I'm fine," I said, hoping that was actually true. While I didn't know much about demons, I had watched a lot of horror movies and realized that I had definitely dodged a bullet - so far. Steve had seemed so friendly and harmless, but he was a demon. A demon with decent taste in movies, but still a demon, nonetheless.
"Do you mind?" She asked, then thrust an amulet into my hand. I held it, turning it over in my fingers, admiring the beauty of it.
"This is lovely, but... " I said, hesitantly. She heaved a sigh of relief and took the amulet back from me.
"Sorry, I had to know for sure."
"Know what?"
"If you were possessed," she said, matter-of-fact. "The amulet is both made of and engraved with things that would cause a demon great pain. If there was a demon in you, you would not have been able to hold it. In fact, since the demon is loose... you should probably have one."
Ah, I thought to myself, there it is, the sales pitch. Well, it depended greatly on how much it was. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, and someday, when I was recounting the tale of how I briefly went mad, I could bring it out and show everyone.
"How much?" I asked. She did have the courtesy to look a little chagrined at that.
"I know this is coming off as a sales pitch, and I'm sorry, I don't mean it to. I really do think you might be in danger. Demons are tricky and dangerous beings, and you can't be too careful. When he realizes you know about sending him back, he might get... upset." She cleared her throat. "The amulets are fifty dollars, and I know that seems a lot, but they're silver with a real aquamarine, so..."
I mulled it over for a minute, but my mind was already made up. Fifty bucks wasn't much for what was really a stunning necklace, and I was a sucker for interesting pieces of jewelry. I paid the price and slipped it on, the silver feeling warm against my skin.
"What else can you tell me about this book?" I asked.
"It's a pretty standard witch's journal," she said. "Most of the pages are your standard spells, some recipes for healing potions... but then it takes a turn into demonology, which is unusual, since up to that point she seemed like a pretty low-level herbalist witch."
"You can read it?"
"Not really, but enough. Most witches have their own shorthand, but some of the symbols and the ways the pages are laid out are similar. Like this page," she held the book open and showed me a page with a list, a few scribbled drawings, and a block of spidery text. "Just looking at it, you can see it's laid out like any standard cooking recipe. The list of ingredients, a picture, and a block of instructions. The picture looks ghastly, with the guy looking like his innards are falling out, but that's just an exaggerated depiction. This is probably for a healing balm for injuries."
"I see," I said. "So there's no way of actually deciphering it without cracking the code of her shorthand?"
"For the first part, no. But once the journal takes a turn, it switches to a pretty common form of old English and Latin, a mix common for occultists at the time. Something must have happened to her to make her change, but we may never know what it was. Back then, people didn't keep journals to record mundane things, paper and ink were precious. You'd only record the important items, and, sadly, tragedies were quite mundane."
Total wordcount: 6388
On/off target: -3614
Really, really starting to fall behind... Is this where I throw in the towel?
"I'm fine," I said, hoping that was actually true. While I didn't know much about demons, I had watched a lot of horror movies and realized that I had definitely dodged a bullet - so far. Steve had seemed so friendly and harmless, but he was a demon. A demon with decent taste in movies, but still a demon, nonetheless.
"Do you mind?" She asked, then thrust an amulet into my hand. I held it, turning it over in my fingers, admiring the beauty of it.
"This is lovely, but... " I said, hesitantly. She heaved a sigh of relief and took the amulet back from me.
"Sorry, I had to know for sure."
"Know what?"
"If you were possessed," she said, matter-of-fact. "The amulet is both made of and engraved with things that would cause a demon great pain. If there was a demon in you, you would not have been able to hold it. In fact, since the demon is loose... you should probably have one."
Ah, I thought to myself, there it is, the sales pitch. Well, it depended greatly on how much it was. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, and someday, when I was recounting the tale of how I briefly went mad, I could bring it out and show everyone.
"How much?" I asked. She did have the courtesy to look a little chagrined at that.
"I know this is coming off as a sales pitch, and I'm sorry, I don't mean it to. I really do think you might be in danger. Demons are tricky and dangerous beings, and you can't be too careful. When he realizes you know about sending him back, he might get... upset." She cleared her throat. "The amulets are fifty dollars, and I know that seems a lot, but they're silver with a real aquamarine, so..."
I mulled it over for a minute, but my mind was already made up. Fifty bucks wasn't much for what was really a stunning necklace, and I was a sucker for interesting pieces of jewelry. I paid the price and slipped it on, the silver feeling warm against my skin.
"What else can you tell me about this book?" I asked.
"It's a pretty standard witch's journal," she said. "Most of the pages are your standard spells, some recipes for healing potions... but then it takes a turn into demonology, which is unusual, since up to that point she seemed like a pretty low-level herbalist witch."
"You can read it?"
"Not really, but enough. Most witches have their own shorthand, but some of the symbols and the ways the pages are laid out are similar. Like this page," she held the book open and showed me a page with a list, a few scribbled drawings, and a block of spidery text. "Just looking at it, you can see it's laid out like any standard cooking recipe. The list of ingredients, a picture, and a block of instructions. The picture looks ghastly, with the guy looking like his innards are falling out, but that's just an exaggerated depiction. This is probably for a healing balm for injuries."
"I see," I said. "So there's no way of actually deciphering it without cracking the code of her shorthand?"
"For the first part, no. But once the journal takes a turn, it switches to a pretty common form of old English and Latin, a mix common for occultists at the time. Something must have happened to her to make her change, but we may never know what it was. Back then, people didn't keep journals to record mundane things, paper and ink were precious. You'd only record the important items, and, sadly, tragedies were quite mundane."
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