SETH: A CONDIMENT INCANTATION [SCENE 33]

We return to my laboratory as quickly as possible, where I retrieve The Hedgemegeton; it falls open, not in the least coincidentally, to the needed rite.  « To break the enchantment on the unicorn king, we must trace a sigil of fascination on a piece of consecrated parchment.  I use the term consecrated loosely, as it is clearly a rite of Black Magick. »

« It’s the darkest ritual in the book, » says Merrick, grinning.

« Quite probably.  However, I still fail to understand the necessity for such a dangerous operation. »

« Look, it’s well-known that unicorns have a purity fetish.  If we’re going to incorporate him into the pleroma, we’re going to have to burst his pink bubble.  It won’t work unless he’s completely and utterly corrupted. »

I can see the logic in Merrick’s twisted mind.  And yet…what effect would performing such a ritual have upon the operants?

« All it needs is a sacrifice, » says Merrick.  « The scarlet liquid of life. »  His grin chills me to the bone.  « Look, your part is simple.  Just take your clothing off and lay spread-eagled in the circle. »

« Surely, you don’t intend to sacrifice me? »

Merrick laughs the laugh of pure evil, the kind which is the signature of all the better voice-acting academies.  Suddenly, he brandishes a knife – a very sharp, dangerous looking kitchen knife.

« Ha! » he yells, swinging the blade.  Instinctively, I close my eyes, shielding my face with my arm.  I hear a solid thwok, like the blade hitting a hard surface, and feel the spatter of liquid against my hand.

I open my eyes.  Next to my lab sink, a pool of pale reddish liquid surrounds the remains of what was once a tomato.

Merrick scoops the remains of the departed into a high-pressure distillation rig.  « Much more efficient than simple boiling, » he explains.  « Just add a bit of vinegar, sugar, a pinch of salt. »

« But…the seeds… »

« That’s exactly the point! » Merrick yells.  « Commercial ketchup is useless for dark rites because the seeds are spared! »

Soon, the laboratory smells like a Sicilian Revivalist kitchen.  While the ketchup cooks, Merrick is busy chalking out the proper diagrams upon the floor.  « Unclothe! » he demands, hastily gesturing for me to take my place in the circle.  While I drape my robes over the cabinet, he fills a squirt bottle with the obscene substance.  I lay myself upon the cold stone, shuddering, perhaps from the temperature, perhaps from the aura of evil congealing in my sanctum.

He begins to draw a pentagram on my chest.  « Do you think this will make a good lubricant? »

It takes me a moment to divine his meaning.  « Surely you don’t intend…Tara hasn’t given you permission… »

« I’m a demon.  What kind of demon asks permission to get laid? »

Just that instant, Evan and Tarlach burst through the door.  « Stop! » screams Evan.  « Oh, no, we’re too late.  There’s blood everywhere. »

« It looks like ketchup, » says Tarlach.  « I thought you were performing a sacrifice? »

« Tarlach spies on everyone, » I explain to Merrick.  « I don’t know why Evan is here. »

« He was undergoing advanced PRAT/PIT Therapy to increase his tolerance for perversion, » Tarlach explains.  « Having his branch twisted and wire-trained has made Quennel very kinky as of late. »

« The poor, murdered tomatoes, » Evan laments.

« Tomatoes are fruit, Evan, » sighs Tarlach.  « They’re meant to be eaten. »

« But this is ceremonial ketchup, » says Merrick.  « I left the seeds in! »

« The horror! » gasps Evan.

Tarlach bends over me, sticking a finger in my ketchup.  « It’s a bit crunchy, » he says.  « I suppose that I should be documenting this.  I’ve never investigated the impact of sex magick on pollen receptivity.  Merrick does seem quite receptive. » Tarlach stares pointedly at my groin.  « And it seems to have improved Seth’s receptivity, too. »

« Would you mind? » says Merrick, annoyed.  « I’m in the middle of a dark rite here. »

« Evan is an innocent, » Tarlach replies.  « Surely having him witness this obscene ritual will only enhance the experience for all concerned? »

« You might have a point, » concedes Merrick.  « Well, either leave or make yourself useful by getting into that triangle. »

« What, this triangle over here? »

I try in vain to warn him: « Tarlach, no, that’s… »

Too late.  « Ha! » cackles Merrick.  « The triangle is where the demon manifests.  And since I’m the only demon here, I’ll possess him myself. »

« Oh my, » says Tarlach insincerely.  « It appears that I’m completely helpless against the evil. »

Merrick rips open Tarlach’s shirt.  He proffers a jar with a chillingly familiar label.  « If ketchup is not blasphemous enough for you…I will draw the final sigil in Nuttbutttm![1] »

With horror, I realize that I was blind – the one needing to be warned is Merrick.  « Tarlach is manipulating you.  Remember, you were born yesterday, while he makes a profession of cruising for pollen partners.  He’ll tell Tara that he couldn’t help himself, but he’s really enjoying this demonic non-con scenario. »

Evan stares at the scene, swallowing hard.  « I really don’t understand why people enjoy things like this.  Love is about mutual respect. »

« Evan is really into humiliation scenes, » Tarlach whispers to Merrick, « but if you make a move on him, Quennel will probably douse your leaves in kerosene. »

I am really starting to lose my patience.  « Forget about them, Merrick.  Concentrate on the rite.  I’m ready!  Sacrifice me! »

[1] A popular brand of chocumber-hazelnut butter – trans.

Onward –>

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