Twisted Ginni by Nicola Rose
Sam
6 months later…
The demon sigil tattooed at the base of my spine burned with an unseen fire, scorching through flesh and bone. It couldn’t be denied, no matter how much hope we kept alive just to keep us floating above water.
It was coming. Ticking closer and closer. I could almost hear the clock, a relentless pounding in my head.
The End of Days. The Apocalypse. Hell Rising.
My stomach growled as I cast a glance at the rats scurrying through the trash along the far end of the room, debating for the third time whether to try and catch one for breakfast.
I was used to being hungry, cold, alone — this shitty derelict building we were living in shouldn’t feel so horrific. At least we were free. Unlike life at our hometown of New Rising in the Chihuahuan desert, which was tiny, inhabited entirely by the cult. The harshest environment to live in — thanks to the fluctuating extremes of desert climate, the isolation, and the murderous fucks living there.
Yet, despite our apparent freedom, there was no escaping the constant dread pooling in my guts, gnawing away at me from the inside out.
The End is coming.
We’d always known, right from our earliest memories. Our entire existence had been carefully woven into the prophecy, preparing us, getting our bodies ready to house the Princes of Hell after whom we were each named. But now it was so close. So very close.
“The sun shall be turned into darkness and the moon into blood.”
We might have run from the cult that raised us, but we couldn’t hide. This was happening whether we were there or not.
Unless…
Unless — they were all dead.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
My head twitched from side to side in time with an imaginary pendulum. Andras wanted to go in, guns blazing, deluded in the belief we could overpower some fifty people, murder them all without hitch. We didn’t even have any damn guns. Phoenix wanted to think and organize, scrutinize every Plan A and Plan B until we were sure we had something solid.
But the truth? Nothing would work. We’d been on the run for six months and still barely had any idea how to function out in the real world, let alone come up with a workable plan to take out an entire demented cult. We needed help.
Hunched under a blanket, I skimmed the pages of a well-used book on demonic possession — one of the items I’d managed to stuff into my backpack and shove in the back of the stolen truck when we ran, escaping our own hell. I hadn’t paid much attention to the shit I was gathering, there was no time. I’d just grabbed everything I could from the depths of my mother’s closet and shoved it in.
Yesterday, I’d noticed something shiny under a seat in the truck. It must have rolled out of my bag and been there all this time. The moment I’d touched it, I’d felt protective and excited, weirdly terrified. I’d stuffed it inside my hoodie and hidden it in my bag, determined to examine it alone, away from my brothers.
And now the time was here, I hesitated.
It can’t be what it looks like?
But what if it is?
Tossing the possession book aside, I finally dug around inside the bag until my fingers brushed against something cold. I placed the item in my lap. So icy it almost burned, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from stroking it, over and over. Tingles rippled along my arms. That same mix of thrill and fear buzzed through me.
The oil lamp vibrated. Weird energy radiating from the cool metal. I wanted to search the backpack for information on djinn, certain that these assumptions popping into my head on little bubbles of hope were all nonsense, yet needing to try. But I couldn’t take my fingers from the lamp. They caressed the contours, exhilaration at the touch, in the feel of this subtle pulsing under my skin. An unwelcome boner poked against my jeans.
Grabbing a deep breath, my head shook violently, ticcing to the max. Finally, I managed to let go, dropping the lamp with a loud clatter on the dirty floor. I was instantly at the bag, rifling through books and papers with ferocious need.
And there it was.
A slim book, barely more than a few pages. The title made my head spin.
Summoning a Djinn.
It was all there within flimsy pages — the lamp, the incantation required, the rules.
I didn’t bother reading the latter. All I needed was the words to bring this insane idea to life. Andras and Phoenix would never agree. I’d need to do it before they returned. It looked simple enough. I’d carried out much lengthier rituals before — but I’d always had back-up for the speech parts.
As I took the lamp back into my hands, energy shot over my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Wind blew ominously into the building through broken window panes.
“V… v… v… voco,” I began, head immediately dropping in frustration. Deep breaths. Try again.
“V… v… motherfucking voco!” The gale picked up, flickering the candles, blowing cans and wrappers around the room.
Come on. Come on. You can do this.
“V… v… v… fuck’s sake!” I hurled the lamp across the room.
“Motherfucking voco! Et fucking vocavi vox. Shitting evoco djinn!” I scrubbed furiously at my hair. I couldn’t summon shit if I had to insert random cuss words into the scripture just to get it past my lips. Things always sounded perfectly coherent in my head, getting trapped somewhere on the way out.
The wind dropped. Just like all of my hopes. Dead in a moment of stuttering desperation.
From the corner of my eye, my sister’s ghost stood watching, disappointment written all over her face.
Minutes passed into hours as I sat there practicing, trying repeatedly to get the words right. Finally, casting the blanket aside, I crossed the decaying room and retrieved the lamp, not a mark on it after skittering and bouncing across the concrete. The moment it was back in my grasp, the wind howled.
Motherfucking shitting piss cunt flaps cock sucking dicks… I let the cussing run rampant through my mind before opening my mouth.
“Voco. Et vocavi vox. E… e… e…” Goddammit, so close. A bench flipped over on its own. Rats scurried away. The air buzzed with supernatural energy.
“What the hell are you doing?” Andras’s booming voice echoed through the room. I whirled around to face him, hiding the lamp behind my back. “There’s some fucked-up energy in here right now.” He pinned me with an accusatory glare.
“N… n… nothing.”
Phoenix trailed in behind Andras, shooting me a wary glance before righting the fallen bench and dumping a bag of food on it. Where’d he steal it from today?
“What’s behind your back?” Andras stalked closer, menace in his eyes. Always death in his eyes. Even when he was only five years old.
I stepped back.
He kept coming. Then he spotted the spilled contents of my bag and diverted over to it.
Shit.
“What’s this?” His slow, deep drawl threatened all the brutality of a Texas storm.
“I… I…”
Phoenix took books and trinkets from Andras as he pulled them from the backpack. “Sam, we were supposed to leave this life behind.”
“You were supposed to stock up with useful stuff. That was your one role if the chance came to run. Grab supplies. You know, things like food and shit we could sell?” Andras kicked the backpack and then kicked it again for good measure. “Did you know he had this stuff in here?” He turned to Phoenix. “I thought it was just more of your clothes and shit?”
“I… I… I fucking couldn’t let go of every-fucking-thing! We might fucking need something. W… w… we fucking don’t understand this goddamn world outside the commune, b… but for fuck’s sake, I understand this!” I waved my hand frantically at the bag and its discarded contents, head ticcing side to side with increasing speed.
Phoenix walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, calm down.” As he spoke, his words washed a soothing peacefulness through me. His hand traveled down my arm and he tried to take the lamp.
Nice try.I wouldn’t let go.
Irrational protectiveness took hold. It was mine.
“N… n… fucking nutsacks! No matter how far we run, this shit is home. It’s the only thing we fucking know. And we need help.” I shrugged away from Phoenix, clutching the lamp like it was a baby.
Andras laughed, noting for the first time what I was holding. “You think there’s a genie in that thing?”
I nodded, drained from speaking too much. It was so much easier to just stay quiet.
“Speak to me with that pathetic stutter again and you’ll get another five days in the freezer.” My father’s belt lashed across my bare back…
Andras laughed again, louder, bordering on maniacal. Then he was on me, wrapping fists into my shirt and yanking me into his space. Built like a boxer, with the aggression to match. I kept my eyes leveled on his, refusing to avert them, even though my tic had other ideas. It took huge effort to stare him down.
In one of his signature mood shifts, he nodded slowly and loosened his grip, the evil in his eyes receding for a moment. “Okay, Sam. Let’s do this. Let’s summon a genie to fix us.” He shoved me away. Then, still chuckling, he sat in the center of the room and gestured for us to join him.
“Fucking djinn, not genie,” I muttered, taking a spot on the floor next to him.
Phoenix shook his head. “This isn’t a game, Andras. You know these things are real. We can’t just leap in—”
“Look at this!” Andras grabbed the lamp before I could react, leaving a desolate feeling in my guts. “It looks like a movie prop! An actual oil lamp, are you kidding me?” His smile dropped quicker than my whore mother’s panties as he stared at the lamp, flinching, fingers caressing the curves, whole body rigid with tension.
He chucked it back into my lap. “Okay, it’s real. We’re not doing this.” He rubbed his hands together as if trying to rid himself of the electric current that I knew he felt.
Phoenix nodded in agreement, rubbing his beard with heavily-tattooed hands.
Frustration boiled my blood. “Fuck you, you dicks! W… we need fucking money. We can’t do shit without it. And what about weapons? You got some fucking c… c… contacts out here, do you? Coz I don’t motherfucking see them and it’s been months.”
We all paused. Thinking. Hating this bullshit. We should have thought it through more before we ran. We’d spent so many secretive nights making fantasy escape plans, never really believing it would happen, and clearly, we hadn’t planned hard enough.
“I’m sorry,” Phoenix whispered. “I should have figured this out. Just give me a little longer, I’ll find a way to get weapons. I’m trying hard to get a job—”
“Th… there’s fifty fuckers on that commune—”
“We don’t need to kill all of them, just our parents. That’s it. We can take on six people. Then it’s over. No one else can perform the ritual.”
“No. They all die. Every. Last. One,” Andras growled.
“Who are we kidding? We won’t get close, they’ll know we’re coming, the council will be protected.” Phoenix dropped into a chair, palms pressed into his eyes.
“E… e… exactly!” I yelled. “Need help.”
“From one of the very things we’re running from?”
“Fucking djinn aren’t demons. They’re not inherently good or bad.”
They continued to shake their heads.
“Sh… sh… should have been done by now. Been fucking trying to get the shitting words out for hours. Don’t fucking work when you mix the motherfucking words with cusses. But I’ll figure it out, w… with or without you.”