The blood on the chalk circle disappeared, swallowed greedily by the circle, powering it. Then a soft glow began to spread, filling out the ritual and adding light to the candle glow.

  Prerequisites said most chants were done in ancient tongue patterns; like Iambic Pentameter which was a modern name for what had supposedly existed from long before. And more complex the creature, the more complex the chanting mechanism.

  My choice of summon didn’t follow the stress/unstress pattern. I had to modify a binding structure, which would bind me to the creature I attempted to summon. That was one of the ancient promises this creature made with its first summoner back when men still wore fur and used fire for warmth.

  “By fire, I call upon the ancient spirits of my ancestors; to tame the untamed.”

  Candle flame grew more intense. No larger than before, yet casting longer shadows on the walls of the RV.

  The sensation of my mind and… spirit, connecting my intent with ancient power; calling on promises forged, my magic following the cosmic grooves left by the countless Shin Shamans before me.

  “By metal, I contain what is wild;” I placed my knife on the inner circle, “forge walls of spirit which may house my summoned.”

  The circle lit up and my Third Eye opened up to see.

  Red threads shooting out everywhere, searching and calling. Some rigid, others fluid, they spread from the circle, wanting an answer from somewhere for the being that I was reaching.

  “By my name, I extend guest rights, adhering to the ancient rules of hospitality.” I took a breath, taking the blood on my thumb and touching the outer circle this time. “Accept, and be welcome here."

  “I summon you, Yeounui.” My last word rang out in an echo.

  Every single candle near me went out in a blaze.

  The candles on the kitchen floor, on the coffee table, everything went out –even the ones on the window sills damned near too.

  And the fact that I was still surrounded by a ring of flame was the only reason I didn’t cancel the summoning right there.

  The definite sense that I wasn’t alone anymore was palpable.

  The RV became cloaked in hues of blue tinted with orange. Shadows stretching a little longer, while everything else became a little less animated, a little more still.

  The possibility of conversation was birthed, and the quiet became silence.

  She was kneeling.

  She was a girl. A young girl, like high-school young. She wore a veil –a jang-ot– over the upper-half of her body, hiding her face and shoulder. Underneath, she wore Korean peasant garbs of bland gray. Dirt stains dotted the bottom hem of her dress.

  The Fox-sister was hunched over, her hands laying flat on the ground. The smoke from the extinguished candles clung to her like fine mist, hiding details that were invisible even to my Third Eye.

  Her voice came. Soft as a murmur.

  And wrong. Just wrong.

  All the creepy things that makes you freeze in the middle of the night. A creaking floorboard at night when it’s just you; your brain playing tricks on you like eyes staring in at you from the window. All the shiver-causing details in ghost stories and distilled together. The feeling that makes you close your closets, but you’re afraid that something might be peeking in between the doors.

  My sixth sense went haywire. It wasn’t just a hum of power. It was disturbing personified.

  “Hello, Hallow. Pleasure to meet you.” Her voice was soft velvet, grating on my gag reflex.

  Her hand. It crawled out from underneath the veil. Jerky, like she was unused to the movement. It reached towards the bologna and a dirt-stained cracked nail dragged it underneath the veil.

  The knuckles. There had been fine-fur around her knuckles. Fur, not hair.

  “Your offering,” She said, and like a dog licking its chops. “Is accepted.”

  “Y-you know my name.” I coughed, hiding the stutter. But I could sense from the sudden change from her that she had noticed.

  Her voice grew even more enticing, “Yes.” She said simply. “I assume you have summoned me for the familiar contract.”

  No point in dodging the topic. “Yes. Uh.” I added, “Consider this an interview?”

  Her fingers poked out from underneath the shawl. I tried not to stare, but found my eyes drawn to the way that white-blur fur covered everything from the nail up.

  “–cold.”

  “I didn’t hear that.” I said.

  “It’s cold. Would you mind putting more wood on the fire before we start?” She shuddered.

  “There’s no fire here.” I swallowed.

  Her head flickered to one side, almost like she was searching. “A blanket then? It’s freezing.”

  “One second,” I turned around to head to the kitchen. I didn’t even think twice.

  I’m smart when I think. Well, most of the human population is smart when they choose to.

  The problem is when we don’t. The dumb ones die first. And the smart ones eat.

  A chill crept down my spine, fingers playing chopsticks on my vertebrae like a piano.

  I froze on instinct.

  “The blanket?”

  My asshole clenched at the sound of her smooth, oily voice.

  "So cold.”

  I saw it.

  The soft illumination of the candles made the refridgerator door just glossy enough to show a reflection. A reflection of her pressed up against my circle, like a predator about stalking its prey. She pushed off of it and began to pace, eyes locked on my back.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  A warped reflection that only made the Fox-sister’s true form barely tolerable to my freshly awakened practitioner mind. Something that had a completely different evolutionary ancestor than humans, but evolved alongside us, to resemble us. Because it made sense, to integrate itself into our society, to our villages and pretend to be one of us.

  I froze for a moment too long, and the reflection disappeared.

  I turned back around. She was kneeling again, but less docile. One eye gleamed from underneath the shawl.

  She had just tried to get out of the circle.

  I licked my lips. This was a mistake.

  I chickened out.

  “I release–”

  “Thousands and thousands of tongues, muttering the name, Jain Hallow.” She said before I could finish, “Did you know that? Jain Shin Hallow?”

  I stopped talking.

  “Powerful names. Warning, threatening, bribing. Powers exchanging hands, ready for more power to exchange hands. What do they yearn? Do not help the Hallow!” She howled, but not the deep throaty kind. A sort of yip, between a cackle and a bark. “Rumors on the wind. Messengers. Carried to ears that listen.” Then she said, “I have heard, but perhaps I will not listen.”

  Sweat dripped down my back. “What are you talking about?”

  She laughed and my skin crawled.

  “You know what. You have made enemies of powerful ancient families. Those who have friends. All those who have connections with countless spirits.” She got up on all fours, her haunches raised, and began to pace. “Through the silk road, there are rumors. Those who aid the Hallow will be punished.”

  “No contract. No deals. No bargains.” She mewled, “No way out for you, Shin. But perhaps I could help.”

  When she said that last bit, she curled her fingers, raising wood peels off the floor. She was getting restless.

  “I think I’m ok.” It sounded weak. “I don’t think I want your help.”

  She laughed again, somewhere between a hyena or wild dog. It reminded me of all the creepy animal documentaries I saw: the Harpy Eagle at night, the Maned Wolf. When she spoke, the dread in my heart only grew.

  “You should, boy.” She kept talking, “Please, let me help you.” She mewled again. “The great flocks have been warned. The packs, the hordes, even the villages of dokkaebis. The lands you call Europe will be the same. Old spirits will not stir for your voice. Too much to lose, too little to gain. Only the basest of beasts will extend their claws for you, Shin Hallow.”

  The Fox-sister bent low, arching her back –a sinuous motion that was both creepy and sexual at the same time. The veil slipped a bit, scraggly blue-white fur lined all around her neck. “ But some are neither base nor dumb. And they will stalk for you. Like me.”

  “It’s not you. It’s me. Haha.” I gave her a forced laugh, “Not really… in the right headspace to be in a relationship, you know? I think I need to work on myself.”

  Then she pounced at the circle.

  I don’t know why, and I didn’t care. All I knew was that she’d lost control somehow. She slammed herself into the circle again, crying out. She wasn’t even bothering to pretend to be something even remotely close to being human. She yipped like a wild animal, sending fresh waves of horror with each syllable.

  And I swear, my Third eye felt the circle strain against her.

  “Holy shit!” I swore, “I RELEASE YOU!”

  I could feel her resisting, a strain against my entire body; but my command took effect. The circle brightened, strengthening itself. All the while, she dug her claws into the fabric of this reality through sheer will, trying to hold on.

  “Thrice you offered! Thrice I rejected!” I yelled, putting together a hodge-podge of chants that I picked up while skimming the book. “By the Hallow blood in the Circle used to bind you, I release you! Go back to whence you came!”

  She was salivating, a wild-animal-woman-hybrid with breasts hanging loose. Fur leading down the middle of her breasts and down to her stomach, yet something hyper-sexual about it –her proportions just enough that in the dark, she’d be the perfect woman.

  She tackled the circle again.

  If I was a better, more skilled practitioner there were so many witty lines I could’ve said. Engineer’s furry night mare come true? Check. Who let the dogs out? Check. But I wasn't. What I was, was a very scared, very freaked out teenager trying to get the nightmare he summoned out.

  I said, “Be gone, Spirit! Jain Hallow, Shin in Blood, commands you! Thrice I command! Dishonor the ancient rites of invitation and I shall take a portion of your power as a boon!”

  The Fox-sister howled. She wasn’t listening.

  The circle then cracked and panic overtook me.

  “I TAKE IT!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, spouting bullshit, “I CLAIM YOUR POWER!”

  And she fucking screamed.

  The flames went out all at once, submerging the room in darkness.

  Oh god.

  Oh my fucking god.

  I couldn’t see, so I strained my ears to pick up the slightest sound.

  But deep down, I knew she was gone. My Sight wasn’t picking up anything.

  Leaving me alone with my thoughts and what the accursed Fox-sister had said.

  The Valentines and the Baeks. They’d done the worst thing they could possibly do. They had used all their connections to make sure not a single spirit would be willing to deal with me. Forget familiar, I was sure that any other ritual to even ask questions would be for nothing.

  But I had no help. No guidance. No teacher. No anything. Emyrith wasn't here. My dad had gone off to god knows where. My only possible option had been to rely on conjuring something that could help.

  Apparently, my enemies knew it too.

  …So what now?