Carefully, inch by inch, he drew the lines of the pentagram on the floor of the empty dormitory basement. Ten minutes it took to draw each of the perfect 3-foot lines. All the while, he thought of Dr. Rogner, his German Professor. Why should Rogner care so much if he came to class stoned once in a while? At least he was a paying student, not like those scholarship leeches. So he figured, if he didn't come to class sober every week, it was his business and nobody else's. He'd had enough lectures from his father all his life. And the gall of that man, to suggest that he go without his parties and his girls at least until after mid-terms! Even if he could survive without them, he had his reputation to maintain. Such an intrusion into his private affairs was more than he would tolerate. "You're a dead man," he had whispered under his breath after he left Rogner's office that day. He may be only a sophomore, but the guy had no right to speak to him in such a way. If he wanted to be treated like a child, he would've stayed home. He didn't know how he was going to do it then, but he decided then and there that Rogner wouldn't live to see another semester.
The Pentagram finished, he took another look at the illustration in the Demonologos. He had never stolen before, but the book was just what he needed, and the cost was outrageous. Certainly the book was valuable, a 17th Century manuscript, the only surviving copy of the English translation of the Demonologos of Al-Kazuwb, after all copies were believed burned two centuries ago. When he had discovered it in a box in a backroom at the used book store, and thumbed through it and realized what he had found, he didn't even need to think twice before deciding to steal it. Surprisingly small for its value, not much bigger than a paperback book, it fit easily inside his jacket, and nobody gave him a second look as he slipped out of the store. Researching Al-Kazuwb and his Demonologos, what he found out was so bizarre, the murders and mutilations and unexplained disappearances, the fanatic efforts to burn all copies in all languages, convinced him this book was no joke. He knew he now had what he needed to teach the Professor Fool a lesson; he would pay dearly for handing him that F and for that father-lecture he laid on him.
Everything had to be absolutely perfect, for he would be summoning the Demon Hattollal, one of the most dangerous demons described in the book. He used a magnifying glass to inspect for minute cracks in the chalk lines of the Pentagram. It was perfect. The ingredients of the incense he had weighed on the scientific scales in the Chemistry Department. His life would depend on attention to the most trivial detail, and he couldn't have been more meticulous.
The five black candles were burning brightly at the five ends of the Pentagram. The incense, after the last ingredient, a drop of his blood, was added, was smoking profusely now. One last check of the Demonologos, and he was ready to begin the incantation.
The incantation was in Latin. After spending three days studying the pronunciation guide in his roommate's Latin textbook, lest he risk mispronouncing a syllable, he felt confident as he began.
"Malo a nos libera sed..." he began, not understanding the words, but pronouncing each word with the utmost precision. Thoughts of Doctor Rogner, his father's hated face occasionally replacing it, became more and more intense in his mind.
On his knees, following every detail of Al-Kazuwb's directions, he called out the final words: "Veni, Hattollal. Veni, Hattollal. Veni, Hattollal!"
A cloud of smoke formed over the Pentagram, spreading to fill the basement. The smoke made his eyes burn and his skin sting. A form slowly materialized in the Pentagram. It looked like a badly burnt human body, but with greatly enlarged hands with fingers ending in fang-like nails, and eyes like red balls of fire.
Clenching his fists to give him courage, he addressed the demon boldly. "I have a victim to offer you," he stated. "His name is ---"
"You!" the demon interrupted.
"No. His name---"
"Is you!" the demon growled louder, stepping out of the Pentagram and advancing toward him.
"But, you can't do that!" he yelled, standing up and creeping back. "I --- I followed everything in the book perfectly! You cannot step outside the Pentagram! It says so in the Demonologos."
"So it does. That was a lie. Does that surprise you?"
He ran for the door, but the demon leaped in the air and pounced on top of him, and casually proceeded to tear him apart.
the end