I was confident. That was my downfall. I delved into the old ways, the forgotten ways of real power. The power of blood and ritual.
At 3 am i began the ritual, a drop of my own blood in the center of the circle. Then the chant, old words in a language lost to all but a few. At 3:33 me efforts cane to fruition. Smoke filled the room, the heat of hellfire on my skin, the stench of brimstone.
I was too confident, my first ritual and i had tried to summon old nick himself. I had my desires, my needs. I wanted wealth, power. I wanted dominance in a world in which my gender didnt get to dominate.
As the smoke cleared i saw my folly. A bent a twisted creature. The body of a man, crouched on the floor like a spider, instead of feet it had another set of hands. It raised its head to stare at me. I was horrified, its eyes were dark as coal and as deep as the pits of the hell it came from. Then it screamed.