Copyright 2012 All Rights Reserved
Demonic Dora By Claire Chilton
Chapter One | Hollowed Be Thy Brain
Dora Carridine rested her Doc Martens on the wooden church pew in front of her and idly cleaned her nails with a combat knife. She watched the small film crew set up around the podium at the front of the church while her father, the Reverend Theodore Carridine, had his hair fluffed into angelic, white fuzz by a stylist.
Dora yawned. Another bible bashing show coming to a TV near you, soon! Dora didn’t ask for much in life, but she’d greatly appreciate it if the studio would cancel her father’s embarrassing television show. She didn’t pray to deities. Surely, if there were such things as Gods they’d have listened when she begged them to burn her mother alive for making her wear a cardigan in the eighth grade.
Dora had been a curious child, so when growing up in such a strict religious home, she’d tested out as many sins as she could. Lightning had never struck her down, she didn’t incur the wrath of God and to be honest, if there was anyone up there watching, they didn’t give a crap what Dora did.
“Now let us pray,” her father said into the microphone when he stood at the podium, his face solemn.
Dora lowered her head and read the spell book in her lap. Images of demons and the blackest of magic filled the grimoire. She could barely read it. I so wish I’d taken Latin now.
“Our father, who art …” her father recited. The large congregation chanted with him.
“… who art embarrassing whenst he is on television,” Dora mumbled out of habit. Two devout parishioners spun around and glowered at her. “Hollowed be thy brain,” she added for their benefit and chuckled when they turned away from her in disgust.
It was going to be a long show today, and Dora was already bored—beyond death. She glanced around the large church. People around her were praying with their eyes closed. Even her producer mother had her eyes shut and wasn’t watching the show. Time to get outta here.
Dora shoved her spell book down the waistband of her red miniskirt and carefully lowered her feet off the pew. She slid the knife into the scabbard inside her boot before silently sinking down in her seat. She slipped onto the hard stone floor, rolling on all fours before she crawled through the narrow space between the pews. She sped up when she left the benches behind and was out in the open, scurrying towards the confessional boxes.
Dora rested behind the dark, mahogany box before peering back at the room. No one was watching her. They were all standing and preparing to sing a hymn. Dora stood up and walked into the alcove ahead, then up the stone staircase towards her room.
She brushed the dust off the knees of her red and black striped tights on her way up. Lazy ass cleaners should be crucified for the mess they left the place in.
When she reached the top of the stairs, she turned left at the large organ pipes, heading up the narrow stone passage of a second staircase, which led to her attic room.
Dora’s room was pretty cool. It was inside the spire of the old church, offering her lots of privacy from the rest of the world. She pushed open the ancient oak door. It made a loud, ominous creak—just how she liked it. The room was not decorated to Dora’s liking with baby, pink walls and a matching carpet. The little princess room was her parent’s doing. She couldn’t count the amount of times she’d spray painted blood,red pentagrams or black demonart on the walls of this room. Every time she came back from school, it was back to princess pink with decorative voile hanging over the bed and pink, fluffy throw cushions on the furniture.
Bile rose in Dora’s throat when she glanced down at the floral print, pink duvet. She swallowed and knelt on the floor at the end of her bed before pulling out the large, white plastic sheet from beneath it. The sheet was actually the back of a Twister mat, but it worked just as well for a dark arts summoning circle. Dora had painted a black and red pentagram on it, to put it to a darker use than it was intended for. Meaning, she had to ensure it was well hidden from her parents at all times.
She shivered with excitement. Today was going to be her day. After years of trying and failing, she was finally going to cast a spell that would work. Despite years of failure, her inability to summon a demon hadn’t broken her enthusiasm. The Wicca group at the local, magical supply store would be laughing at her on the other side of their white light, Earth mother,faces if she pulled this off. Dora was going to summon a demon, and not just a normal demon. No, she was going for a high-level demon that would be under her control. The first thing he’s going to do for me is make this room red.