by Philip Stetson


She finally stopped pushing her jaw back and forth and grinned at me, a toothless grin. As she smiled, her teeth slowly reappeared one by one, with a small popping noise.

>> |


Input desired steps: 12

Lethality (y/n): n

Select type:

1 Self Reflection

2 Summoning

3 Revenge

4 Self Improvement

5 Projection

6 Worship

Input: 3

>> Revenge selected.

Please wait, ritual is being built.


Ritual created. Please follow directions:

Name: Ira constans Purus


1 Name of target

2 Small table, preferably round

3 Two Chairs

3 Water in a clear glass

4 A pencil

5 Paper

6 Sharp Needle


1 Select and name target. Target's presence required for ritual.

2 Place glass of water in center of table.

3 Prick finger.

4 Place blood on tip of pencil.

5 Place pencil, tip down, in glass.

6 Ask target to drink water with pencil in place.

7 Do not allow target to leave. Place paper in front of target.

8 Target will use pencil to write on paper.

9 Take paper.

10 Read out loud what is written.

11 Return target to “home.”

12 Hold paper in safe location.


Irrational and pure anger will consume target's life but will be unable to act upon it.

Will attempt to harm self and others constantly but will be unable.

All violent acts will be immediately reversed and forgotten.

Ritual user will have pure control over the magnitude of the target's anger

as long as paper containing the target's words is kept in their possession.


User may be consumed as well.

Results very in success depending on how comfortable the target feels in the ritual.

If ritual fails, user will be possessed.


Target destroys paper containing target's words.

Can only be destroyed by dipping it in water from the same source as water consumed in ritual.

Fire or other forms of destruction are impossible.

Ritual generation complete.

Create new ritual (y/n): |


Eight hour work days five days in a row really grind me down to the thinnest part of my psyche. My coworker, Jen, sits on that bit of psyche and saws away at it with a bone saw made for blue whale until it just snaps. And today it snapped.

For reasons beyond me, Jen has a crush on me, and I don't mean her weight. Every day at work she flirts with me constantly.

“What are you doing today, Aaron?”

“Do you want to hang out tonight, Aaron?”

“I like your shirt today, Aaron.”

“Have you been working out, Aaron?”

Every time she talks, she ends with this upwards inflection that rings inside me and causes a swift rise of irrational anger.

Her dull blue eyes just look at me with just emptiness behind them, waiting for my response... which is usually just a simple “No.” And after months of her no-so-obvious hints, I decided I'd give her what she wants.

I invited her to my home.

“Hey Jen,” I said.

She quickly turned towards me and smiled, “Hey Aaron.”

“Do you want to hang out tonight?”

Her excitement at my question was palpable. Last time I saw her this happy is when she was showing off her new Coach rip-off purse to me.

“Oh my god, yes. I'd love to!” Her voice rivaled a tone pitched version of Mickey Mouse. I immediately started regretting my decision. But if I could scare her away...

“I found this ritual that's supposed to see who your true love is. It's supposed to work, but I thought you'd like to try it with me.” I forced a smile.

“Oh my god, Aaron, I would love to!”

And with that, we went back to work.


I never would wish anyone any harm. Really, in the end, I'm a pure pacifist. Jen annoys me beyond the point of reason, but I would never want to hurt her or punish her in anyway. I really just want her to leave me alone.

I really don't even understand why she likes me so much. I'm not attractive. I'm purely average on every level. I enjoy living my life by myself which is why I find myself on my computer for the majority of my day. I have my day job, but when I get home I use my free time to learn programming and read horror stories. That's what makes me happy.

The night before I invited Jen to my house, I made another silly program as a joke. I had been reading stories online about various rituals and their results. These kind of stories were particularly interesting to me because they all seemed to share a certain kind of mystery to them that just dragged me into their world. I also noticed that all of these rituals seemed to share certain methods. They often included mirrors, salt, dolls, candles, etc.

I realized that I could probably generate these.

So I started to create a database of all the rituals I could find online. One called Three Kings, where the users fights or embraces the darkness inside themselves and emerges as a new person. Or, Hitori Kakurenbo, where the user plays hide and seek with a dark being with very little means of escape. I inputed them in and then coded a program that will examine them and create a ritual of its own built around inputted parameters. It was all a joke. I named it Heliades.

I generated the first ritual for Jen. I generated it as a sort of fantasy for myself.


I know it won't work. I spent the majority of today just collecting all the objects I'd need for the ritual. I just needed something to scare Jen away so I can continue being away. Once she sees the use of blood she'll just realize I'm a freak and leave me alone.

I set up my dining room for the whole affair. I have a nice round wooden table that is the perfect size for two sitting across from each other. Pushing the chairs across the tile floor made a scraping noise that caused me to shiver. The doorbell rung around the lower floor.

Pushing down my black shirt, I walk to the front door with only the soft pat of my socks joining the echo of the ringing doorbell. There was Jen, a smile plastered across her face. She bounced up and down on her heels.

I backed away from the door and walked back to the table. “Just a moment!” I shouted.

I walked to my kitchen and grabbed the bag of supplies I had gathered earlier. I placed an etched glass cup in the center of the table, making sure it was as close to the center as possible. The light above the table refracted through the glass, making a pattern of light around it. I put the paper, pencil, and needle on my side of the table. I figured, at this point, I'd made Jen wait long enough and went to welcome her into my home.

Her plastered grin greeted me when I opened the door, my dim porch light did a poor job of illuminating her face. A small breeze was accompanied by the strong scent of generic shampoo and perfume. I had to admit, her eagerness was sort of adorable.

“Hey Jen,” I attempted a grin, “sorry for the wait, I had to get everything set up.”

She stopped bouncing on her heels and sprinted forward to hug me. “I'm so happy you invited me, Aaron!”

I set out a long sigh.

“Shall we?” I detached myself from her and walked to the table. She followed behind me, placing her purse on my coffee table.

She then saw the carefully prepared table. “Holy crap, Aaron, you weren't kidding!” She ran over and looked at it, seemingly fascinated. “I can't wait!”

I tried my best to put on an air of maliciousness. I was very deliberate in the way I moved, hoping she'd notice. I picked up the needle off the table.

“I hope you're okay with blood, Jen. This is a blood ritual.” I said, smiling a bit at the end.

She giggled, “Yeah, sure. I don't care.”

This wasn't working like I intended.

“Okay, well, if you could sit on that side of the table.” I pointed to the chair with its back to the wall.

“Yeah, sure!” She giggled again and lowered herself into the wooden chair.

I walked to the kitchen and filled a pitcher with tap water.

“Alright, Jen. I'll need you to do everything exactly as I say when I say it. You cannot hesitate. If you do, I can not promise you the results you'll want.”

“I already know the results, silly,” she smiled.

I walked back to the table. “Alright, I'm going to fill this glass halfway with water and then I'll join you at the table.”

I returned the pitcher to the kitchen and sat in my chair.

“Let's begin. Please do not move from your chair until the ritual is complete.”

She nodded and pushed her long brown hair behind her shoulders.

I pricked my right pointer finger, holding back a grunt of pain, and put the pin back on the table. I squeezed my finger until a small bubble of blood escaped from the wound.

“That looks like it hurts,” she said, concerned.

“Quiet.” I commanded. It actually hurt like a bitch.

I picked up the yellow pencil with my left hand and lightly touched the tip to the drop of blood. I suddenly could smell Jen's perfume on a small breeze.

“Okay. I'm going to place this pencil in the glass. After I do, you must drink the water with the pencil still in it. You have to drink all of it.”

Her smile disappear slightly, “Eww, really? I don't really want to drink your blood.” She grimaced.

“It's the only way it'll work. Don't you want to know who your true love is?” I grinned.

I carefully placed the pencil, tip down, into the glass. It sat for a moment as the blood drifted off the tip in a small red cloud that shifted around carefully in the water. We both watched as the small cloud drifted higher in the water, after a few seconds it broke the meniscus of the water and continued drifting into the air.

“Whoa, Aaron, how are you doing that?” She asked, amazed.

“I-” I didn't know what to answer. I just shushed her and kept watching.

The red smoke continued drifting out of the cup and floated into the air, stopping about a foot above the glass. It then slowly split into two and drifted slowly towards me and Jen.

Jen spoke quietly, “This is so cool.”

I just sat silently. My thoughts were paralyzing me.

The small bit of red smoke reached my nose and drifted silently up nostril. It smelled a bit like baking chocolate and fish. It drifted up Jen's nose as well, making her cough slightly, a bit of the smoke came out of her mouth and drifted back up her nose.

“Jen?” I said, eventually. She didn't answer, just stared at me. Her smile was still plastered on her face. She slowly grabbed the glass and swallowed the water, holding the pencil in the glass with her other hand. The smoke continued to escape from the pencil, engulfing her head in red. As she finished, she placed the glass in front of her. The red smoke pushed itself back into her, drifting primarily into her eyes.

“Alright, take this paper.” I grabbed the paper with my right hand, leaving a small dot of blood on the corner. I placed it in the center of the table. Both of us were moving slowly, but with purpose. I wasn't sure if I was still continuing my act or not.

She grabbed the paper and took the pencil from the glass. She stared right at me as she wrote without looking. The writing was in green.

I knew now that I wanted to stop.

She put the paper back into the center and I grabbed it. I read it in my head.


I stopped breathing. Jen hadn't spoken at all.

“Say it.” She said.

And I did. “Heliades,” I said, “I love you. Why don't you love me?”

The table spun quickly in front of us, making an ungodly scraping noise on the tile. In half a second, it had spun 180°, placing the glass and pencil directly in front of me. I looked up and Jen had passed out on the table, her brown hair spread over the table, obscuring her head.

“Jen?” I said meekly. There was no reply. I stood up from the table, aware that I could now. I felt panic spread through my whole body. “Jen!” I repeated, and shoved her head.

“Why can't I move?” I heard her say, quietly. It was muffled by the table and her hair.

“Jen, oh fuck, Jen,” I pushed her hair away and saw her face. It was crunched into look of pure anger. I could hear her teeth grinding.

She spoke with her mouth closed, “Fuck you, Aaron. I'll fucking kill you.”

I hear the sound of cracking come from her mouth, but the scraping continued – back and forth, back and forth.

She wasn't moving yet, only her mouth seemed to be moving at the moment.

I panicked. I'm not a strong guy, but I managed to lift her and carry her out to her car. I'll just drive her home. I thought. Maybe this is just temporary. I thought.

I realized her purse was inside. I placed her on the ground, her back propped against her car. A chunk of tooth fell out from between her lips. She hadn't spoken again.

I returned again with her purse and pulled out her keys. I noticed, off-hand, that the chunk of tooth was gone. I unlocked her doors and put her in the passenger seat. I sat in the drivers seat and looked over at her. Her face was flushed red, veins were pulsing in her forehead. I could hear her heartbeat from four feet away, a fast rhythm that seemed to be getting faster.

I just need to get her home. I thought. I backed out and headed towards her house.


“I'm bringing you home, Jen.” I said, taking my eyes off the road to look at her. The only reply was the continued scraping of her teeth.

I kept driving.

I jumped when she spoke, “What's inside me? Clawing at me, chewing me.”

I looked at her, she was still looking straight ahead, grinding her teeth.

“I don't know,” I said.

“I just... want to die so badly,” the grinding stopped slowly, replaced by a small squeaking noise. I looked at her again. On her shirt were dozens of bloody fragments of teeth, her jaw was still moving back and forth.

“I just asked him,” she spoke, “he calls himself Heliades.” She turned and looked at me. “He wants me to thank you. I am his now.”

“I don't... I don't understand.”

She finally stopped pushing her jaw back and forth and grinned at me, a toothless grin. As she smiled, her teeth slowly reappeared one by one, with a small popping noise.

“He says he'll never let me go.”

Her grin disappear again as we arrived at her home, a small white home with red shutters.

I parked in front of the house and went to the passenger door and lifted her out. She seemed to weight even lighter then before.

As I held her, she whispered into my ear.

“He says he got you too. He says that she didn't drink all the water like she was supposed to. He says he warned you. He says you knew the risks. He says your his now.”

I dropped her on the ground and looked down at myself, the soft yellow of the sodium bulb street-lights illuminated my body. I saw that my fists were bleeding as I dug my nails into them. The musculature on my arm was straining, expanding outside my skin. My skin split open and the red of muscle seemed even redder with the orange light.

Jen pushed herself off the ground and looked at me.

“Aaron?” she asked, her eyes looked heavy.

I heard a voice in my head, it sounded robotic. “She did this to you, Aaron. She did this to you, Aaron. SHE DID THIS TO YOU, AARON.” It grew louder, I lost myself inside the anger. I lifted my arms up in front of my face and saw scar tissue falling off.

She did this to me. I lunged towards her.