Gumshoe Gorilla Read Online Free
Author: Keith Hartman, Eric Dunn
the old faerie tales. No. Real witches are all bound by the Threefold Law, and never use our magick to bring harm to others. For whatever negative energy a witch sends out into the world, it will come back at her three times as powerful.
There is, however, one small exception to that rule: A witch is allowed to cause magickal harm, if by so doing she teaches the target of her spell a lesson. And Brian Davis was one man in desperate need of an education.
I got my magick kit out of the suitcase, and took it into the living room to perform the spell. I drew a circle around myself. Once in salt, asking the Earth to witness my pain and lend me her strength. Once in rain water, asking the Lady of the Lake to hear my pleas. Once with a lit match, calling on the Fire which had fueled my passions. And once more with incense, summoning the Wind to breath life into my spell.
As each element lends its gift, the power within the circle builds. The mundane reality of the room grows further away. I stand in a place between the worlds, where the possible kisses the fantastic, where the laws of nature become as malleable as dreams, and where objects are but containers for ideas. Within that space, I weave my spell.
Three candles to light the way. Between them, a parchment, upon which I have copied the first love letter that Brian ever sent me. I turn it over, and draw an open eye on the back. From my kit, I take out a piece of clear quartz, the seer stone that reveals all lies, and a piece of moonstone, full of the power of the feminine. I place them on the drawing of the eye, along with a strand of Brian's hair. And then, very carefully, I fold them up in the parchment as I recite the Charm of Clarity.
Three times I recite the charm, as I fold the parchment and tie it up with string. Once, full of rage for his lies. Once, full of anger for my own believing them. And once, full of the love that I still can't help feeling for him. I let my passions fuel the spell, binding them up in the parchment even as I bind up the stones and the hair.
And then it is done. The packet is tied shut, the spell completed. And I am free. I have buried my anger in the spell, and let go of it. I will walk out the door and leave it behind.
Brian, on the other hand, will still have to live with it for a while. The packet contained a spell that would make all his lies transparent to women. That would teach him a lesson. Pity I couldn't stay around to watch the results. I still had to lay the trick-- that is, place the bag where he would walk under it-- but that was a no-brainer. I went to his bedroom, and tossed it up on top of that big canopy over his bed. The spell would last until he found the packet, which I figured would take him at least a couple weeks.
Like I said, pity I couldn't stick around to watch. But it was almost 4 PM, and I had other things to do that day. I packed up my magick kit and my tools and the empty mashed potato bags. And then I grabbed my --now much lighter-- suitcases and walked out the front door of Mr. Davis's home. Pausing just long enough to take off my gloves, I turned and headed down the hall towards the back staircase.
All in all, I'd say he got off pretty easy.
Chapter 2:
The Number Cruncher
Wednesday April 23, 4:27 pm
I could hear the shouting before I even got off the elevator. Trenton Reed at full volume. He's a proponent of what I call the "yell" theory of management.
"I DO NOT FUCKING WANT TO HEAR THIS! I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR MORE EXCUSES!"
Watch your step, Natalie. I wet my lips and straightened my skirt, and then started down the corridor towards the post-production room. There were six other offices on this hallway, but I noted that the lights were on in only two. The others were all in various stages of abandonment. Three had been neatly mothballed, with covers put over the desks and furniture. The last was a mess, as if the workers had left hastily,
There is, however, one small exception to that rule: A witch is allowed to cause magickal harm, if by so doing she teaches the target of her spell a lesson. And Brian Davis was one man in desperate need of an education.
I got my magick kit out of the suitcase, and took it into the living room to perform the spell. I drew a circle around myself. Once in salt, asking the Earth to witness my pain and lend me her strength. Once in rain water, asking the Lady of the Lake to hear my pleas. Once with a lit match, calling on the Fire which had fueled my passions. And once more with incense, summoning the Wind to breath life into my spell.
As each element lends its gift, the power within the circle builds. The mundane reality of the room grows further away. I stand in a place between the worlds, where the possible kisses the fantastic, where the laws of nature become as malleable as dreams, and where objects are but containers for ideas. Within that space, I weave my spell.
Three candles to light the way. Between them, a parchment, upon which I have copied the first love letter that Brian ever sent me. I turn it over, and draw an open eye on the back. From my kit, I take out a piece of clear quartz, the seer stone that reveals all lies, and a piece of moonstone, full of the power of the feminine. I place them on the drawing of the eye, along with a strand of Brian's hair. And then, very carefully, I fold them up in the parchment as I recite the Charm of Clarity.
Three times I recite the charm, as I fold the parchment and tie it up with string. Once, full of rage for his lies. Once, full of anger for my own believing them. And once, full of the love that I still can't help feeling for him. I let my passions fuel the spell, binding them up in the parchment even as I bind up the stones and the hair.
And then it is done. The packet is tied shut, the spell completed. And I am free. I have buried my anger in the spell, and let go of it. I will walk out the door and leave it behind.
Brian, on the other hand, will still have to live with it for a while. The packet contained a spell that would make all his lies transparent to women. That would teach him a lesson. Pity I couldn't stay around to watch the results. I still had to lay the trick-- that is, place the bag where he would walk under it-- but that was a no-brainer. I went to his bedroom, and tossed it up on top of that big canopy over his bed. The spell would last until he found the packet, which I figured would take him at least a couple weeks.
Like I said, pity I couldn't stick around to watch. But it was almost 4 PM, and I had other things to do that day. I packed up my magick kit and my tools and the empty mashed potato bags. And then I grabbed my --now much lighter-- suitcases and walked out the front door of Mr. Davis's home. Pausing just long enough to take off my gloves, I turned and headed down the hall towards the back staircase.
All in all, I'd say he got off pretty easy.
Chapter 2:
The Number Cruncher
Wednesday April 23, 4:27 pm
I could hear the shouting before I even got off the elevator. Trenton Reed at full volume. He's a proponent of what I call the "yell" theory of management.
"I DO NOT FUCKING WANT TO HEAR THIS! I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR MORE EXCUSES!"
Watch your step, Natalie. I wet my lips and straightened my skirt, and then started down the corridor towards the post-production room. There were six other offices on this hallway, but I noted that the lights were on in only two. The others were all in various stages of abandonment. Three had been neatly mothballed, with covers put over the desks and furniture. The last was a mess, as if the workers had left hastily,
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