The Black Heart Crypt

Jenny Ballard found a sharp twig and etched a five-pointed star into the blackened dirt in front of the Ickleby family crypt.

Then she surrounded her pentagram with one dozen sputtering candles.

“Stand in the center of the burning circle, Norman!” she said, her voice urgent and breathy. “Prepare to welcome your ancestors into your body.”

Norman hesitated.

“This is your chance!” said Jenny. “Forever banish weak Norman from your body!”

“I can make my dad pay for never standing up for me?”

“Yes, Norman.”

“And Snertz? I get to cream him, too?”

“Yes.”

“And those jerks from high school?”

“Yes! All who once caused you pain shall cower in fear before you.”

“And evil. Do I get to be evil? Because evil people have all the fun.”

“Yes.”

“Good. And will you be my girlfriend?”

“Forever and ever, Norman. You shall be the evil king. I shall be your wicked queen!”

Norman boldly stepped over the flickering candles to stand in the center of the pentagram. “Let’s do this thing!”

Jenny handed him a sheet of paper.

“The raven-throated voice spoke these words unto me. Recite them, Norman, and all will be as it should.”

He stared at the words. They seemed to be seared onto the page.

“Ancestors, hear me!” Norman’s voice grew stronger and steadier. “I praise you for the courage and cunning you showed while alive. Now, through the mists of time and the thinning veil of death, I invite you in. Take my body and use it as you see fit. Remove my cowardly soul and replace it with brazen hatred for all the weaklings of this world!”

He dropped the script. He didn’t need it anymore.

“I, Norman Ickleby, no longer have any desire to use this body for my own purposes. Take it. Take me. Take me now!”

At that instant, thunder clapped and a leaf-swirling wind blew out the circle of twelve candles.

The man who used to be Norman Ickes slumped to the ground, an empty vessel longing to be filled.