Oshose came to his senses. He lies deep in the lake; air bubbles escape his lungs and rise to the surface. He "manifests" another apple, spreads his wings, and flies to the top of the center mountain. The hair follicles on each of his bat-like wings rustled in the wind, wrestling the g-force of the air. Oshose plops himself on the summit and then quickly stands up. He takes a few steps forward. And while doing so, dark clouds form in the skies surrounding him. Thunder rolls like a bowling ball down the alley. Lightning flashes and strikes his sword, but he is unaffected by it. He clenches his fist to the point of blood dribbling down his closed palm. The cold rain runs down Oshose's face. Looking up at the dark, cloudy sky, he shouts a loud yell that sounds like a wild beast with intense reverberation. "Solrac, YOU FUCKERRRRRRR!!!!!!" he exclaims with great rage in his voice. Tears begin to run down his cheeks, but he holds them back. He looks at the sky with a piercing gaze.
Solrac sees this defiant glare on his monitor. "Oh, so, there's your motivation," said Solrac with a surprised tone.
"I'm going to get out of here!!!!!" yelled Oshose with even more intense hatred. His eyes begin to glow a vivid red. The ground rumbles underneath him a bit.
"I'll bet you will," said Solrac, though Oshose could not hear him. He lets out a chuckle that grows into psychotic cackling.
"I said that, but how am I actually going to do that?" thought Oshose. "I know," he then said out loud.
The ritual used to seal Oshose inside the crystal that became part of a computer was a complex one and a hard one to pull off by oneself. Although the sealing spell used to confine Oshose to his crystal prison, later forged into part of a computer, was performed by common-rank demons. The release spell is much more challenging. The spell is a Latin incantation that must be spoken by a child or a person of innocence. And the blood of said innocent must be offered to the ritual circle surrounded by candles to complete it.
Two kids wall through an open door into a bedroom. A light brown solid wood desk is at one end of the room, as well as bunk beds by the door and a window. These boys' names are Dylan and Arnold. Arnold is the taller and younger one with light brown, dual-parted hair, a pale-white complexion, and a single crown. He is eight years old and wears a green tee shirt with light green horizontal stripes and dark-blue jeans. The shorter brother with a slightly larger build, and darker chocolate brown hair with a double crown, is Dylan. He is ten years old, wears a red rocket ship tee shirt, has a slightly more tanned complexion, a slightly larger build, and wears blue sweatpants. Dylan looks at the bunk bed and back at Arnold.
Dylan sighs. "I guess you win; mom always sides with you," said Dylan disappointed.
"Dad never gets involved in the arguments, and he just sits back and continues reading the news on his pho–" A book suddenly appears on the desk. It catches both of the brothers' attention. Dylan walks over to the book with Arnold following behind him.
"Whoa!" exclaimed Arnold.
"What's that book? Can I read it?" Dylan motioned to shush Arnold, picked up the book, and opened it. He gazes upon the pages of what appears to be some unknown language. Arnold tries to get a peak of the book. Unbeknownst to both, the book has an image of a cross. But underneath it, there's a hidden image of a pentagram.
"Hey," interrupted Arnold innocently.
"What are you reading, Dylan?" Dylan looks back.
"I honestly don't know what this is," Dylan baffled. It is a satanic book disguised as a holy bible.
"Those fools," snickered Oshose as he saw two kids unwittingly about to read from a satanic book. "They're looking at it right now." He took a hostile stance with his arms extended slightly from his waist.
The boys are fixated on the book. "Get away from it. We don't know where it came from," said Dylan as he once again tried to shoo away Arnold. Arnold made a dumb expression with his tongue sticking out of his lips. He looked completely out of touch with reality.
"This isn't a manga or an anime," continues Dylan. Dylan felt a chill down his spine. He looked back at the computer. The screen is now black, but it sounds like it is on. Text appears on the screen.
"Hello, I'm Oshose," it reads.
"Cool," said Arnold with a raised and innocent voice.
"Why is it talking?" asked Dylan, suspicious.
"Who cares? It looks cool," responded Arnold with an excited tone and body language. His hands and arms raised to a level with his face, and his eyes starry with fascination.
"Aren't you the least suspicious of it?" yelled Dylan in the middle of his speech with a raised tone. Arnold pointed toward Dylan with a confident expression on his face.
"Don't worry so much, Dylan. Mom told me not to talk to creeps online. At best, it's probably some scammer on the internet," insisted Arnold.
"It doesn't seem like a bot or a person, though," said Dylan with a worried tone and sweat running down his forehead. His palms shook slightly, but not visibly.
"Oh really? Then what is it, a ghost?" mocked Arnold with a shit-faced expression. "You still believe in that stuff at your age?" he continues, chuckling.
"Shut up, I'm older than you!" snapped Dylan with some flush in his cheeks.
"You need to stop worrying so much," said Arnold wiping the tears of laughter while snickering some more.
"You can call me whatever you want, but my name is Oshose," said a voice that sounded deep and distorted.
"Do you want to play a game with me?" The voice is coming from the computer. Arnold narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly.
"I'll bet it involves credit card information," insisted Arnold. "Case and point."
"That's not how that phrase works. You need evidence. You can't just assume–"
Strange static electricity materializes. It turns into the same red, blue, and yellow electricity from before.
"Oh, no, just a game to see which one of you is worthy," said the voice with more positive emotion than last time.
"Worthy of what?" said Arnold with a mocking expression and tone.
"Worthy of moving onto the next round, of course."
"When does it begin?" asked Dylan hesitantly. The electricity faded.
"NOW!" yelled the voice in a demonic tone suddenly. The lights suddenly go out. A scream can be heard. Now many more. Millions more now. They're the screams of children.
"Help me!"
"Mommy! Daddy!",
"Natalie!",
"Chris!!",
"I'm scared."
"Dylan, where are you? It just got dark!" yelled Arnold, now frightened.
"Help me!!!" echoes Dylan's voice in the wind. He sounds so far away, yet so close.
"It's just you and me, Arnold," the demonic voice joyfully.
"What did you do to Dylan?!" yelled Arnold with fear in his heart. His every syllable trembled.
"He's just in the waiting room. Pity. He couldn't move on," said the demonic voice emanating from the computer that glowed in the dark.
"What is this? I'm scared," whimpered Arnold while struggling to find footing in the dark room.
"You must play alone now," said the demonic voice softly. The voice cackled with insanity at every decibel. The sound shook Arnold to his very soul. He fell to his knees and curled up in a ball. "Would you like to read one of my poems?" asked the demonic voice with a less evil undertone. Arnold got on his feet. He ran towards the computer.
"What? No. Give me my brother back, you bastard!!" yelled Arnold with increasing anger and hatred.
"Harsh. And quite frankly, no language to be used by a boy your age. But no, you are the chosen one. You must perform the ritual now," continues the demonic voice.
"Ritual? Wha –"
"Go get some candles; it seems the power went out," the demonic voice interrupts. Arnold looks around and notices the sudden dead silence in the air.
"Where are my parents?" asked Arnold, trembling and scared but trying to be brave.
"Safe," insisted the demonic voice.
"But I have a pho—my phone won't work," thought Arnold.
"Looks like you need those candles," said the demonic voice telepathically. Arnold ran through the darkness to what he assumed was the hallway.
"Alright, I'm getting them," said Arnold annoyed and scared. Turning left, he ran for a few seconds. Now turning right, he enters an open space. The floor feels cold and hard on his bare feet. Arnold walks into a desolate version what was his kitchen and climbs up. He opened a high shelf and grabbed many waxy-feeling cylinders out of a box. "That's them," he thought. Arnold jumps down, but his arm scrapes a sharp, thin edge. "Ouch!" yelled Arnold. He takes the same route he once took, but in reverse. Eventually, making it back to the bedroom. The glow of the computer is indistinguishable from any other. "I got the candles," said Arnold, scared and shaking.
"Good. Read the poem and shake the author's hand," said the demonic voice with slight aggression. The candles fly out of Arnold's hands and light in a circle. "Draw a star…no, with your blood," snapped the demonic voice. "Good. Now a circle around it." The book Dylan was reading is now in front of the ritualistic circle. Arnold looked confused. "My hand, stupid!" yelled the demonic voice.
"Hey!" responded Arnold, angry about the insult.
"Alright," said the demonic voice as winds of fire surrounded the circle and Arnold. "Repeat after me." A hand emerges from the computer screen. Arnold trembles in terror at the sight of it. "Et vadit," said both (The voice and Arnold). The ground shakes, and the room begins to glow a malignant red. More of Oshose comes out of the computer with each verse.
"Patefacti,"
"Exeat,"
"Quassum manus!"
"Sanguinibus tactus!"
"Hes 'liberari!"
"Accipere locum suum!!"
"Integrum…" The last verse echoes. Oshose is free.
"Good job. You've served me well. Here's your brother back", said Oshose joyfully.
"Really?" asked Arnold trembling at the sight of the demon, Oshose. The sound of fingers snapping echoed.
"Here you go. You've been a very good boy," said the demonic voice.
"Thanks?" agreed Arnold scared, surprised, and hesitantly. A set of bones dropped to the ground. More piled on top. "Agggghhh!!! Who the hell is that?" yelled Arnold, horrified at seeing a human skeleton.
"That is your brother. You should be grateful you are still alive." A voice interrupts Oshose. Sounds of screeching shake Arnold to his very soul once more.
"Sorry, but I've got to stop you right there," said the female demon from before in a calm, seductive voice. There's a ringing in Oshose's ears. Oshose looks around, worried.
"Who are you?" yelled Oshose, frightened.
"Like you need to know that?" mocked the female demon's voice with heavy reverberation.
"Let me out!!" exclaimed Oshose.
"Apologies again, but attempted escape can't go unpunished. Have fun. Hehehehehehe!!" continues the female demon. She laughed way more intensely than Oshose and sounded one hundred times eviler. Like a non-cliché, intimidating villainess.