Stacy wakes up in the middle of the night again. 4 AM. The last few weeks were difficult, filled with anxiety and worry, and a result sleep was difficult.
As always, he comes out of the other room.
“Is all well?”
“I’m just not feeling good. It’s those exams again.”
“Yes, I heard many things. Why do you keep pushing yourself against them? Is a piece of paper that important?”
“Without that paper I can’t get a job outside of some fast food place.” Stacy yawned and stretched slowly, reminiscing over nearly ten minutes ago, laying in her bed under the warm blanket.
“That sounds strange, and I have seen strange.” His claw swiped slowly under his chin. “Would you like me to help with these?”
“If you do, you’d have to help with everything else.”
“For you, your honor, it is worth the work.”
“I told you to stop calling me ‘your honor’. It’s creepy.”
“I apologize, your honor.”
“Ugh. You’re enjoying this too much” Stacy sighed in frustration and hung her head in defeat.

The whole ordeal started less than a month ago. A simple meal cascaded into an avalanche of increasingly bizarre events even the biggest fan of fiction fandoms would consider too much. Demons and imps, faes and angels, all that sort of thing.
It started with a cartoon, a blog post and a sandwich. These three objects, one of which could be considered not an object at all lead to discovery of a forgotten world described only in books written by people who would be considered mentally ill today. How these arts were learned is lost to time.

First, one needs to draw the mark. The ink is not important, but the mark needs to be drawn to perfection. If one makes the invitation, it must be perfect. There are thousands, each with its own distinct figure and size, but to draw one improperly would, at best, just lead to nothing, and at worst, to a mistake difficult to repay.
Next is the tribute. To not offer a tribute to a visiting king is considered a grave insult, and great people died for mere words. To not give proper dues to such a king would be a sin as grave as murder.
Last, of course, is the call, for the king would not come when called incorrectly. There is no point in wasting time on those who do not put the effort to learn the proper manners. But every rule has its exceptions.

Stacy, like pretty much every other student on the campus has a Funblr account. It’s similar in its premise to BookFace, but instead of being bombarded with her uncle’s rants about gun control and the evil that is the republican party and their second amendment.
Funblr is her way to escape the daily mundane life surrounded by college, exams and politics.
Every day is almost exactly the same, save for the occasional test – wake up, spend the time between 9 AM and 4 PM on classes with the occasional lunch break. Up to 6 or 7 PM is the time to deal with assignments: writing articles, PointPower slideshows and generally preparing herself for the next day. Packing the books, doing some cleaning, checking her calendar for the thousandth time, praying to every god and goddess she ever read of for the professor to not try and have a play-day with a pop quiz or yet another demand at the end of class for a project on some barely touched upon subject. All of these things built an impenetrable wall of anxiety around her, have her ponder and overthink every single step in her life as a student and as a human in general.

On one particularly difficult evening, yet another post describing a ritual promising good luck and a more pleasant life popped up on her feed. Those are never something to take too deeply to heart. Perhaps it is some sort of coping mechanism, belief that even though all other people left, there is still one last being to care for you. At least that one last something that will hear about your pain and frustrations.
It’s no surprise many people took that idea further, creating and participating in various rituals to try and summon this being.

The first step is the mark. The post on Funblr provided the mark of Rankthor, the imp of jest.
The second step is the tribute. As Stacy was making herself a quick meal, collecting various ingredients from leftovers in the fridge. Some old, but still edible lettuce, the last piece of cheese and bologna, and as a joke for herself, drew the mark of Rankthor with ketchup.
The last step is the call. It was probably never meant to be sang to the tune of whatever catchy pop tune that popped up on TheTube at the moment, but it seemed to be enough. The imp of jest, of course, doesn’t reveal himself immediately. After all, is it not jest to show that the ritual had failed at first?

On the next day Stacy mentally prepared herself to the math finals, one subject she hates. All the numbers and letters, mixed in a confusing salad of information that is impossible to wrap one’s head around, calculating the speed of a fully laden swallow approaching Jupiter, all while covered in space dust and precisely twelve rice grains.
The exam started slowly. Every second passed as an hour, as if time suddenly was made of used bubblegum, stretching into meters with ever click of the second hand. The rest of the class didn’t seem to enjoy this particular day either. Mike, the school’s quarterback shuffled nervously in his chair looking left and right. Laura loudly tapped her pen on the table, frowning at the piece of paper. Even George, who is normally considered the math geek and is ostracized from the rest of the class until the time comes to steal some answers took his time with this one, drawing triangles and rectangles on the back of the paper. Class was silent. Disturbingly so. Other than the occasional sound of chair legs grinding shortly against the floor, the only other barely noticed sound was breathing. Nobody dare cough or sneeze, stretch, or even ?.

Slowly but surely, one by one some of her classmates decided they’re done and began turning in their exams. First, Rachel, then Thomas, Larry, and so on.
In twenty minutes it was down to Stacy, George and Laura.
George is a perfectionist, checking, double checking and triple checking himself to make sure his answers are up to par for his standards. That usually means he’s the last to turn his paper in. This often costs him to spend extra time in the teacher’s lounge, seeing as after too many edits his papers become barely readable to anyone but him.
Laura is the far above average student. While she provides far more aesthetically pleasing results than George, she rethinks every letter over and over before putting it down, unlike George who scribbles his calculations on the back and scratches off whatever he finds incorrect. To achieve that, however, she tries to think over everything and only write out the answer. This results in a much more pleasant looking paper, but costs far more time.
Stacy is not much of a geek like Laura or George. She often just struggles comprehending the task in front of her, let alone complete it properly like the professor explains during the lectures.

George finally handed his paper in, so now it’s only her and Laura.
Laura looks frustrated at the last question – figuring out the volume of a chair under negative pressure. She tries to peek at Stacy’s paper only to see her three questions behind. The professor looks irate at the clock, hoping this won’t take much longer as it’s only ten more minutes until the next batch of students arrives.
The bell rings and the last two, Stacy and Laura hand their papers before leaving the classroom, with an eerily synchronized sigh of defeat.

Rain.
Saturday started with large clouds in the sky breaking right towards eight o’clock.
“Uuuugh… do we have anything left to eat?” Laura’s voice was barely heard, overshadowed by her heavy rolling on the top bunk.
“Did you get anything? It’s your turn this week.” Stacy, in turn, sounded similar to a bear’s first morning in April.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I told you like twenty times yesterday!”
“You should’ve tried harder! Now what?”
“Now you go to Walmart.”
“What about you?”
“Uuugh, fine, fine. Lazyass.”

The two proceeded to get out of the small room, dressed as if preparing for a Siberian winter with thick coats, trousers, trousers on top of those trousers and thick rain boots, with the first pair tucked in and the second pair covering. The walk was short, thankfully, as the closest branch was only a block away. First stop – the diary area. Despite being called, so, the diary aisle contains many things other than just diary products. Along with milk and cheese, there are also many products masquerading as such. Almond milk, almond cheese, allegedly made from the aforementioned almond milk, and coconut water concentrate, the only thing somehow tying it to diary produce is that it’s white. As always, Laura tried convincing Stacy to switch to a healthier life style of absolute veganism, slowly remove animal produce such as milk from her diet, arguing that cows are harmed during the harvest process.
Eventually, they went out with a few items with both parties dissatisfied with each other when it comes to the subject of food.
“I’m telling you, they torture the cows with those pumps. How would you like to have pumps stuck to your nipples 24/7?”
“I would call it kinky and be done with it.”
“Exactly! Wait, what?”
Stacy broke out a menacing grin towards Laura’s terrified eyes, staring as long as she could keep the face up.”
“You stay the hell away from me, you hear?!”
“Just try it, it’s fun!”
“Stay the hell away!”
Stacy giggled as she started chasing Laura while Laura was screaming about perverts and calling Stacy a rapist over and over, turning more than a few heads around across the street until they reached their dormitory room.

“Mike is going out today again.” Stacy mentioned nonchalantly as the two got back inside “Don’t you want to join him again?”
“For god’s sake, it was, what, three months ago? I got over him already. He’s just an asshole with massive arms.”
“You still want a nice evening with him though, don’t you?”
“Shut up.”

As soon as Stacy shuts the door and turns on the lights there’s a small popping sound and the lights go out as fast as they turned on.
“Lovely.”
“Oh god, I didn’t save before we went out!”
“Why didn’t you hit save?”
“Well, I didn’t think this would happen!”
“This is a shoddy building! You said it yourself!”
“My project!”
“Now what?”
“Can we..?”
“You’re not starting a fire in the middle of the room.”
“It was fun last time!”
“And you nearly set the building on fire.”
“It was only that one time!”
“You nearly got the entire building killed! There were trucks! There were freaking trucks!”
“It wasn’t that bad!”
“Stacy, the entire building got evacuated. For the third time this month.”
“I’ll be good this time!”
Despite the darkness Stacy still tried putting on her best sad kitten face, even if she knew Laura can’t really see anything right now.

The lights return some time later.
Stacy goes to the kitchen.
Stacy starts making a sandwich while a huge demon pops out of nowhere.

It’s been about a minute of darkness, but even that is enough to scare Laura, who is afraid of the dark since the age of five. The kind of person who runs out of room if the light switch is further inside, and if it isn’t, she’d stay in the room that is still lit and blindly fondle the wall, looking for the light switch.
Stacy, on the other hand, is less worried by such trivial fears. She’s more concerned by large, fluffy spiders. Despite the electricity being out, Stacy cares more about her stomach – mainly the fact it’s empty, and thus, displeased. She quickly opens the fridge, taking out a few ingredients at random and arranging them all in a vaguely circular pattern on not-quite-fresh corn bread, adding ketchup, mustard and mayo. The lack of light makes spreading the condiments dangerous for keeping the surroundings clean, so she just bet on physics to do its job and keep everything vaguely equal.

Red stands for the blood of the fallen. White is their soul, clinging to the last of its innocence, and yellow is the gold for which their blood was sacrificed by their kings. Humans really are a strange bunch, killing each other ruthlessly for some shiny rocks and “honor”.
For this task they used everything from their bare arms, to thrown rocks, to poison, to treason.
The call was a simple song, one begging for good luck in tomorrow’s adventures that take place in class – good fortune and promises to give up everything for a simple piece of paper.

“Jesus Christ, woman! Can you be even more creepy?”
“Well, excuse me for not wanting to do the semester again!” Stacy’s voice came firmly out of what can be called a kitchen, but only because it had a sink to clean plates in.
“Yeah, well offering your soul to sa -” Laura’s voice was cut abruptly, like a song put on pause. Not even a complimentary vinyl scratch sound effect.

“L-L-Laura..?” Stacy’s voice switched from a happy, playful singing tone to one full of worry and fear “What happened? Did you -” Stacy’s voice was interrupted by the sound of quick stomping on the floor and breaking of rock “L-Laura..? Is everything okay there..?”
Stacy came out of the so called kitchen, her sandwich in hand only to be introduced to an otherworldly creature. The only thing similar between the two is their humanoid figure. Its skin was seemingly glowing in the dark with a vague red hue, outlining its long, gorilla-like arms and muscular legs. It hand a pair of small wings, covered by short spikes on its back and a pair of horns, the left visibly damaged, protruding from its head.
“It has… been a long time since one of your… kind… has awoken me… fully...” The creature stretched its arms and cracked its joints audibly.

Stacy looks at the demon, the demon looks back with a shit eating grin.

The creature stares at Stacy and continues “So you have made your promise,” it said, baring its jagged teeth “I have to ask, for such a small treasure, will you truly...”

Stacy gives him the sandwich.
Demon looks confused.
Stacy looks confused.

Stacy stared at the creature both terrified and puzzled. Her mind refused to ingest what is currently happening as she approached the beast. The creature looked puzzled “I see a brave soul before me. It has been -” Without letting it finish, Stacy shoved her sandwich into the creature’s mouth.
“You insolent fool! You dare treat Rankthor the mighty in such manner?!” The creature roared, pushing bits of food out of its mouth, throwing it on the floor.
“For this you will pay with your life!”
Rankthor raised his arm, showing his claws – five on each hand, as if it was a large human hand, seemingly to maul Stacy as she stared at him with her best puzzled kitten face.
“You’re… you’re not afraid?”
Stacy didn’t make a sound.
“You… you know who I am, right?”
Stacy shook her head in response and let out a sound similar to a cat’s meow as Rankthor slowly lowered his arm.
“Do you… know what I am..?”
Rankthor’s eyes faded to black only to gain light again, as if he blinked. Stacy shook her head again and tried to shove the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. His voice changed from a might roar to a garble of words and sounds as if he’s being choked. Not too far from the truth, when you are being assaulted by a long, albeit edible stick.
“Will you stop that?!” Rankthor spat on the floor again and wiped his mouth “Do you even know what you just did?!”
Stacy shook her head and meowed again, poking Rankthor’s face with the remains of the sandwich like a poorly programmed machine, repeating the last two steps over and over.
“Ack! Will you please just stop doing that!” Rankthor slaps Stacy’s hand and backs away.

Demon tries to look more aggressive, but Stacy is on autopilot and doesn’t quite react.
Demon tries the sandwich while still looking confused at Stacy.
Stacy urges the demon to finish the sandwich.

He unfolds his wings, ridden with scars all over them and his glow grows brighter, showing many veins pulsating and his body covered with thick, jagged scales.
“Your foolish ways will be accepted no longer! For your insolence you shall pay not with the life of your newborn, nor with the life of your neighbor! You shall pay for this with your own -” right before the last word, Stacy finally shoved the remains of the sandwich into Rankthor’s mouth, this time with both hands – deeper than the previous time. Rankthor’s wings folded as he tumbled down and fell on the floor, choking and muttering to himself as he is forced to chew the thing to get it out. He pulled himself up with little grace and scrambled away from Stacy, sitting down on a nearby cabinet, chewing vigorously and quickly to finally get rid of the sandwich and swallowing.
“This… this wasn’t half bad...”
“Mew?”
“I’ll accept that as a tribute, I suppose.”
“Mew?”
“I will take this instead of your soul.” he squinted scolding.
“Mew?”
“This… good… good like soul… you understand?”
“Mew”
“For crying out loud! Fine!” he threw his hands up in frustration and approached Stacy, this time slowly with his wings folded “I will give you a favor. One favor. If this strange paper is what you want, I will help you get it.”
Stacy tilted her head and stared into Rankthor’s eyes, as if slowly understanding what she got herself into.
“Do you understand now, human? You have show your worth and for this I will return in -”
“Mew?”
Rankthor just threw his hands up again and rather gently slapped the back of Stacy’s head muttering something about the Cult Of World’s End.
“Remember my name, human. I am Rankthor, the imp of jest. For now I will forgive your foolishness, but beware, if we meet again, I may not be so kind.”
He walked three steps away and raised his claw, drawing a doorway with fire and stepped through.

Demon finishes the sandwich and disappears.
Laura comes in and looks at Stacy.
Stacy snaps out of autopilot and glomps Laura in fear, speaking in tongues and nearly shitting her pants.
Laura is terrified and confused.
Both go to bed.

The gate Rankthor created floats in mid air, glowing, almost inviting Stacy to walk through, but as soon as she touches it, it disappears. The room finally goes black and Stacy snaps out of her trance, screaming, flailing her arms and running towards Laura. Laura, in turn, just opens her eyes, as if awoken from a pleasant nap, and immediately jolts as Stacy tackles her, screaming incoherently. She does understand several words, but not enough to piece together any sort of meaningful message. “Demon”, “sandwich”, “Rankthor” and “Scary” isn’t much to work with, after all. She tries to wiggle free from Stacy’s grasp, shouting at Stacy to calm down. There’s no human that would calm down on cue, however, and this makes Stacy scream even louder and more enthusiastically.

Next day.
Class starts with substitute teacher.
Main teacher is sick, so it’s basically a day off.
Watch TV instead of doing some actual learning.

During the night Stacy wouldn’t lay calmly in her bed like she usually does, she twirled, rolled around and basically made a whole lot of ruckus, making sleep for Laura practically impossible.
“What wouldn’t I do for a good rope right about now...” Laura muttered under her breath, trying to get some sleep. After a couple hours Stacy finally calmed down and let Laura have a short nap before the beginning of the day.
Laura was the first to wake up and thus, has the privilege to be the one who goes to the bathroom first. After about ten minutes Stacy wakes up as well, as energetic as a squirrel that that consumed a few liters of Blue Bull.
“

TV cuts to a pay to watch porn for a few minutes.
Laughter mixed with confusion mixed with horniness.
Substitute Teacher is flustered.
Substitute runs to turn tv off, falls down, moans like a porn star, at the same time as the porn star.
Class laughs, sports guy makes porn joke.
Laura facepalms at sports guy.
Sports guy hits on Laura.
Laura blushes and whimpers.
Sports guy does thumbs up and asks Laura to hang out.
Some time later… after school.
Stacy and Laura hang out at coffee shop.
Stacy and Laura discuss why Stacy freaked out yesterday.
Stacy laughs at summoning some kind of hellbeast.
Laura doubts hellbeast’s existence.
Stacy describes ritual.
Laura laughs at sandwich tribute.
Stacy tries to recreate ritual at coffee shop, fails.
Both go home, laughing at hellbeast.
In demon world.
Demon reports weird summoning, human food is tribute.
Demon’s friend is confused. It’s rare, but not unheard of.
Demon ponders making another appearance without tribute.
Demon code does not allow random pop ups.
Demon #2 suggests more investigation, trying to recreate tribute.
Demon code does not allow forced tributes either.
Fuck.
Demon #1 and Demon #2 ponder moving into school because this sort of thing is a one in a billion and are not sure Stacy even knows what happened.
Demon #2 jokes that Demon #1 has a crush on Stacy
“nigga, you fuck goats!”
“nigga, I AM a goat!”
Stacy complains about Laura not making food
“it’s your turn”
“It’s always my turn!”
Stacy forces Laura to learn cooking.
Laura refuses.
Laura reads wiccan books about rituals and shit.
Discovers luck symbol.
Same symbol as Stacy’s but doesn’t know.
Laura makes same symbol on food (rice with gravy).
Stacy looks scared.
“bitch, this ain’t no hogwarts!”
Demon world, demon alarm.
Demon #2 sees tribute symbol made on rice with gravy.
“bitch be crazy”
Laura starts mumbling ‘prayer’ mocking Stacy’s story.
“bitch be REAL crazy”
Stacy asks to stop.
Demon #2 calls Demon #1.
Demon #1 says the don’t know what they’re doing.
Demon #2 goes to teach them a lesson.
Dramatic entry.
Holy shit holy shit holy shit
Throw plate.
Plate hits demon.
9999 crit hit stun confusion.
Demon #2 just stands there.
Laura runs for door, door doesn’t move.
Laura runs for window, window doesn’t move.
Laura runs for Stacy, Stacy doesn’t move.
Oh shit, time’s frozen.
Beg for mercy.
Demon #2 stare insulted.
“You just threw the tribute in my face!”
“imsosorryimsosorrypleasedon’tkillme”
Demon #2 gives Laura a second chance for tribute.
Laura explains she doesn’t know how to cook and didn’t actually make the tribute.
Stolen tribute is bad, but better than nothing.
Give challenge – recreate the tribute exactly.
Wipe sauce from head and lick claw.
“not bad. Needs salt.”
Dramatic exit.
“You have till the next sunset.”
Finish dramatic exit.
Demon #1 mocks Demon #2 for being drama queen back home.
Time unfreezes.
Laura explains situation to Stacy.
“Bitch you WHAT?!”
Try sleep.
Demon #2 haunts Laura about tribute.
Laura sleepbegging for mercy.
Stacy can’t sleep because noise.
Next day.
Skip school, Stacy trying to teach Laura to make rice and gravy.
Shenanigans ensue.
Laura learns to make barely edible rice gravy about 10 min before technical sunset.
Demon #2 is a pedantic ass, waiting till the sun is right past the horizon.
Dramatic entrance electric boogaloo.
Time freeze again.
Demon #2 demands she makes tribute in his presence.
Laura tries cooking with time frozen. No fire, no nothing.
Laura tried to explain that time is needed to prepare tribute.
Demon #2 isn’t buying.
Laura tries to show dramatically.
Demon #2 attacks.
Laura rolls around screaming
Laura begs to prepare tribute properly.
Demon #2 rawr
Laura explains how food is made.
Demon #2 shows previous tributes – live animals.
Laura explains live animals don’t taste good while uncooked.
Laura begs for cooking.
Demon #2 sets magic bars on doors and windows before unlocking time.
Stacy starts moving.
Holyshitdemon.
“it’s better be good or I take your sister”
“she’s not my sister”
“you’re not helping”
Laura doing everything slowly, shaking like a vibrator.
Drops salt, spills some on demon’s leg.
Demon screams and hits ceiling.
Huge hole.
“how are you going to explain that?!”
“the rice cooker exploded?”
“we don’t even have a rice cooker!”
Demon is pissed.
Laura keeps cooking while shivering.
Draws the mark with gravy.
Demon #2 tries to pick up plate with claws, plate almost falls.
“is this a joke?”
Laura tries to feed him with a soup spoon.
Some gravy falls on demon nuts. Demon #2 is displeased.
Stacy tries to wipe without thinking.
Awkward silence.
Demon #2 finally manages to take a bite.
“this is different.”
Demon #2 grins and does dramatic exit.
Next day.
Class starts.
Regular professor returns.
Yesterday’s blackout caused loss of all exams, so new ones have to be taken.
Fuck.
Stacy and Laura get the same exam as last time, barely visible scratches near answers.
Professor doesn’t seem to give a shit.
Mark scratches.
Small mark of Demon #1 decays from table.
Hallucinations?
More classes.
Sleep through English.
Physics 101 is boring as usual.
Rest of day is normal.
Discuss the whole demon thing.
Wonder if scratches are help from demon.
Go to library; wiccan book not found.
Research on internet.
No dice.
Hallucinations?
Find old book that wasn’t returned.
Pages barely hold place.
Mark is found.
Doing some reading, find imp of jest info.
There are several imps.
Imp of jest doesn’t just fuck around, may give good luck.
May FORCE good luck if person is stupid.
May spoonfeed good luck if person is EXTREMELY stupid.
If tribute is good, will spoonfeed.
Scratches = spoonfeed?
Discuss taking serious interest in cooking.
Attempt to feed teacher.
Horrid meal.
Try to cook more.
Fire.
Holyshit.
Barely put out fire.
Dean shows up.
“what’s with the hole?”
“rice cooker exploded”
“we don’t issue rice cookers. Wtf.”
“we bought a rice cooker.”
DETENTION!
Demon #1 and Demon #2 argue about food.
Weird, but decent tribute.
Better than screaming goat.
Demon #1 didn’t do anything decent yet. Trip doesn’t count.
Porn isn’t Demon #1’s work. Actual tech issue.
Imp of jest doesn’t work immediately.
Time to fuck around for real now.
Professor finds his car filled to brim with tomato soup.
WTF.
School mascot shows up on camera.
School mascot is surprisingly agile for the mascot suit.
School mascot has decent alibi.
Alibi gets confirmed.
Who filled the car?
Who shot JR?!!?
Everyone has alibi.
People are asleep at 2am, usually.
Cameras installed everywhere.
Dean is pissed – new car ruined.
Tomato smell everywhere.
Tomato cans show up in dean’s office.
Dean is pissed even more.
“They’re mocking me! I’ll kill everyone!”
Next day.
Car is clean, no memory of tomato smell.
Car smells like new.
Car looks like new.
Small can of soup hangs from mirror.
Heads will roll!
Thinks of ways to get evidence.
Tries to blame it on jock. Impossible.
Tries to blame it on geek. Too introverted.
Remembers hole in Stacy/Laura’s dorm.
Comes to dorm screaming.
Holyshit.
Hole is not fixed.
Needs to be fixed NOW.
Who you gonna call! Ghost busters!
Calls repair guy.
Repair guy says it’s caused by rice cooker.
RICE COOKERS NOT ALLOWED ARRRGH!!!
No rice cooker found.
Shitloads of rice IS found.
WTF.
Why so much rice?
Give up on hole.
Student upstairs pissed. Put table on hole.
Evening.
Student falls through hole.
Student is geek; see Laura half naked.
WTF
Nosebleed.png
Screaming bloody murder.
Bloody near murder.
Geek gets everything thrown at him.
Geek runs for dear life.
Laura’s pissed.
Stacy shows up in pajamas.
“What’s with the screaming?”
“George just came in through the ceiling.”
“His table is covering the hole. Wtf.”
Laura looks up. Hole is indeed covered.
Wtf.
Go upstairs.
George was asleep, pissed off at screaming.
Next day.
Laura and Stacy go to library excited.
Sit there for about an hour anxious.
Librarian is an ancient man.
Looks like hagrid and gandlaf love child.
Librarian suspicious – calm students never come.
Hover around.
Stacy and Laura reading some harry potter.
Walk around a bit, looking at other books.
Books look boring.
Cooking, math 101, physics, dostoyevski.
Librarian helps kids find books of some famous writers.
Kids grumble about schoolwork.
George comes in.
Librarian jumps up, runs to George.
Conversation about DnD.
George wants realistic cult.
Find book about crazed ancient cultists.
George takes lots of papers to write down ideas.
Librarian turns to Stacy and Laura, watching curious.
Stacy fumbles around old books.
Book falls from shelf, hits Laura.
“Oh my, be careful! Some of these are old!”
Dust makes Laura cough like mad.
Stacy looks at book, briefly sees mark of Rankthor.
Stacy looks at librarian scared.
Librarian thinks nothing, puts book on higher shelf.
“omg I saw it! Demon mark!”
“quit with your demons, I have enough already.”
George leaves.
Laura and Stacy leave.
Stacy rambles about marks.
Stacy scrolls through funblr looking for Rankthor mark.
Finds demon group.
There’s gonna be a ritual soon, not sure where.
Stacy wants to come.
No can do, gotta join a cult.
Cult looks friendly, but kinda murderous.
Decide on location – local petting zoo, Tuesday at midnight.
“nooo, I have classes!”
“actually, same.”
Change date to Saturday.
Saturday comes, Stacy is nervous af.
Stacy asks Laura to come too as body guard.
Go to meeting.
People are pretty chill
George is there too.
“dude, wtf are you doing here?”
“stacy, what are YOU doing here?”
Talk about wicca and cosplay.
There be demons!
There be angels too, but angels are assholes.
Demons are surprisingly chill.
Wanna summon satan.
Satan requires human tribute.
Not cool. Run like fuck.
Prepare to slaughter some random kid.
Random kid is displeased.
Screaming, fighting.
Kid is a pussy, doesn’t want to be sacrificed to satan.
“i read that satan is actually vegan!”
“lol wtf”
George says it’s just larp.
Not real wiccans.
Stacy and Laura are confused.
Pull out giant, collapsible knife, poke Laura, fake blood comes out.
Fake blood is ky jello.
Wtf.
“sacrifice” kid.
Overly dramatic screaming.