Kevin Dairy did the dinner dishes, satisfied and pleased with himself. As of noon that day he owned his house outright and that was truly a cause for celebration. Add to that his blind son was well again, after a recent bout with pneumonia and a stay in a hospital. Work was going well too, he’d met all of his quotas and his boss was ignoring him. Kevin put the last of the dishes on the drying rack and went to the living room to join his son relaxing by the fire. "Hey, son, whatcha reading?" Kevin said to his son Martin.
Martin cocked his head and paused from sweeping his hands back and forth along the book with apparent blank pages on his lap. "It's uh, a book on flowers, pop."
"Good good, how was school." His dad said as more of a tired conversational gambit than a real question.
"Uh," Martin hated the way his dad tried to chit chat when he was in the middle of reading. He had almost finished reciting the spell half under his breath. Now he'd have to start over. "It's okay. I, uh, have a lot of reading to do tonight for biology class." He lied.
"Ok, son, no worries. I guess I'll do a little reading myself." Kevin stood up from his comfortable recliner and walked over to his meager library. He pulled down a well thumbed copy of a pulpy science fiction novel and failed to notice his son angrily flip back several pages. Kevin took his book, sat back down, and started reading silently.
A half hour later Martin finished his spell. Nothing happened for a moment then there was a sound, a slight rumbling and then everything in the house shook violently for a second. Both of the men were shaken out of their chairs. A cascade of crashing came from the kitchen as all the dishes flew from their cabinets. The walls creaked and powdery dust fell from large cracks in the ceiling.
Kevin tried to get up, but his ankle had been sprained from the fall. He crawled over to his son who lay prostrate on the floor. Kevin yelled, "Son, son, are you okay?"
Martin said, "Up yours dad."
Kevin was stunned and sputtered incoherently. His son had never addressed him like this. He hadn't thought he’d raised such a vulgar young man. He crawled closer and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. Martin shook it off just as the floor dropped from under their bodies and they slowly floated in in the air.
Everything in the house that wasn't tied down floated for a good five minutes. To the terrified father it felt like hours. His heart raced and he felt short of breath as he swum around trying to hold on to something solid. The young man could only imagine the look on his father's face at the state of things and he finally felt powerful, like the world was doing what he wanted and not the other way around.
When the house finally slammed back down the contents of the fireplace whumphed out making a large dark halo of ash.
"What in the name of god almighty was that? Are you okay Martin? Oh god oh god oh god. Dear Jesus was that an earthquake?" Kevin said and turned to incoherent prayers.
Martin pushed himself out from under the chair which was sitting on him. He addressed his father, "No god here, dad." And he laughed. First it was a titter then a full bellied cackle.
"What?" Kevin screamed. "You've gone insane, son. Come over here, we'll pray it out."
Then there came a knocking from the door, first polite and gentle then forceful and brutal. Then the door blew off its hinges in a shower of splinters. A beast with a human face stood on spindly insect legs. In several voices at once it called out, "Whom so ever has called this house down is truly damned. Let the warlock come forth and receive his justice and damnation."
Martin got up and walked to the demon.
Martin cocked his head and paused from sweeping his hands back and forth along the book with apparent blank pages on his lap. "It's uh, a book on flowers, pop."
"Good good, how was school." His dad said as more of a tired conversational gambit than a real question.
"Uh," Martin hated the way his dad tried to chit chat when he was in the middle of reading. He had almost finished reciting the spell half under his breath. Now he'd have to start over. "It's okay. I, uh, have a lot of reading to do tonight for biology class." He lied.
"Ok, son, no worries. I guess I'll do a little reading myself." Kevin stood up from his comfortable recliner and walked over to his meager library. He pulled down a well thumbed copy of a pulpy science fiction novel and failed to notice his son angrily flip back several pages. Kevin took his book, sat back down, and started reading silently.
A half hour later Martin finished his spell. Nothing happened for a moment then there was a sound, a slight rumbling and then everything in the house shook violently for a second. Both of the men were shaken out of their chairs. A cascade of crashing came from the kitchen as all the dishes flew from their cabinets. The walls creaked and powdery dust fell from large cracks in the ceiling.
Kevin tried to get up, but his ankle had been sprained from the fall. He crawled over to his son who lay prostrate on the floor. Kevin yelled, "Son, son, are you okay?"
Martin said, "Up yours dad."
Kevin was stunned and sputtered incoherently. His son had never addressed him like this. He hadn't thought he’d raised such a vulgar young man. He crawled closer and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. Martin shook it off just as the floor dropped from under their bodies and they slowly floated in in the air.
Everything in the house that wasn't tied down floated for a good five minutes. To the terrified father it felt like hours. His heart raced and he felt short of breath as he swum around trying to hold on to something solid. The young man could only imagine the look on his father's face at the state of things and he finally felt powerful, like the world was doing what he wanted and not the other way around.
When the house finally slammed back down the contents of the fireplace whumphed out making a large dark halo of ash.
"What in the name of god almighty was that? Are you okay Martin? Oh god oh god oh god. Dear Jesus was that an earthquake?" Kevin said and turned to incoherent prayers.
Martin pushed himself out from under the chair which was sitting on him. He addressed his father, "No god here, dad." And he laughed. First it was a titter then a full bellied cackle.
"What?" Kevin screamed. "You've gone insane, son. Come over here, we'll pray it out."
Then there came a knocking from the door, first polite and gentle then forceful and brutal. Then the door blew off its hinges in a shower of splinters. A beast with a human face stood on spindly insect legs. In several voices at once it called out, "Whom so ever has called this house down is truly damned. Let the warlock come forth and receive his justice and damnation."
Martin got up and walked to the demon.
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