Evil Dead, Witchcraft, and Georgia

"I can't believe I have writer's block again; that bitch owes me a freebie after what I gave her last time." 

Pulling out her athame, Georgia sighed; all she ever wanted to do was write and tell stories that enraptured the imagination. As soon as she graduated from Uni, her well went dry. She had won various writing contests; hell, she earned enough money to pay off her car by proofreading and editing everything from thesis papers to dissertations. Now, her mind went blank if she even looked at her laptop. 

The day she'd changed her life forever lingered in her mind; Georgia wondered what if she had never picked up the book she had resting in her lap? Would the block have resolved on its own? She'd never know now; she was caught in a trap of her own making. But she was determined to break free.

Six months ago, Georgia was roaming amongst the rows of books that lined the library in her hometown. Georgia prayed for inspiration; maybe the spirits of writers would seep into her, and genius would hit. Hell, she'd take a dream about sparkly vampires at this point; at least she would know the Muses hadn't abandoned her. Reaching the back of the library, she turned down an isle she'd sworn she'd never seen before; it was dark, the bulbs in the old overhead lighting had mainly blown out, except for one, and it flickered and buzzed, trying to give off what little light it could. The air hung heavy with the smell of old books, lending to the eerily feeling that crept down her spine. Pulling out her cell phone, Georgia put in flashlight mode, slowly creeping down the aisle, examining the right side first.  

As the light shone on the dusty tomes, she read titles like "Three Books of Occult Philosophy," "Vampires: The Occult Truth," and even a copy of "Practical Magic." by Alice Hoffman, weird. Georgia never imagined her small-town library having an Occult book section; no wonder it was dusty and dark. She couldn't imagine Mrs. Rogers venturing down these aisles to make sure every book was in its place. Having reached the end of the right side, Georgia turned to explore the left, and as soon as she did, she ended up tripping over something. Unbeknownst to her, this would be the discovery that would change her life.

Twisting mid-fall, Georgia landed on her back, the sound echoed throughout the building. She was sure she'd hear footsteps come running, the tempo filled with worry. Trying to catch the breath that was knocked out of her, she lay there; just the sound of shelves creaking and settling to break the emptiness could be heard. No one was coming, not that she needed help; her breath was evening out, and embarrassment was the only thing hurting her right now. The little blow to her pride didn't need tending to by anyone but herself. Pushing up on her elbows, she looked to where her feet had been formally planted on the ground, all she could make out was a dark shape about a foot away from her soles. An educated guess would say it was a book, a large and heavy one at that. She didn't think it budged an inch from where she tripped over it, and that's where Georgia should have left it had she known what was to come. 

Pushing up entirely on her butt, Georgia began to feel around for her cell phone. Hopefully, the screen didn't crack when it hit the hardwood. She spotted it a few feet away, the glow from the flashlight app rimmed the edges, giving her hope that it was fine. Crawling over, she scooped it up, relieved it was unscathed. She'd be writing Otterbox a sincere review on Amazon Prime after this. Shinning the light in the direction of the book, she noted that she was right. It was a big book; leaning over it she blew off the dust, less the drag mark from the toe of her shoe.  

The front was plain brown leather worn by time; you could see where fingers played over the edge along where they opened the book. Sitting back on her heels. Georgia lightly touched the edge of the opening and gently turned it to the first page; in elegant scrawl, the name Mary Agnus was written, and under it Grimoire. Carefully turning the pages, Georgia's eyes grew wide; it was a book of spells, incantations, more so hope and the dreams of a young woman.  

Tucking the book under her arm, Georgia made her way out of the aisle. The farther away she got from the section, the brighter the library became, the sounds became louder, and she could tell that many people were roaming around, some sitting at tables quietly studying, others working on group projects; all were minding Mrs. Rogers rule of the library, respect each other and keep the chatter low. As she moved away from the Occult section, the library seemed to come alive. Surely, they would have heard her fall, and she should have heard at least others walking around, taking books from the shelves, and putting them back. It was like she'd stepped into another dimension back there.  

Placing the book on the counter, Mrs. Rogers looked at it speculatively. 

"Is there something I can help you with?"

Georgia frowned at the older woman; what a strange question.

"I'd like to check out this book." 

The frown lines deepened across the older woman's face, "This isn't a library book." 

Georgia scanned the other woman; everything told her that Mrs. Rogers had never laid eyes on this book, but...

"It was in the Occult book section in the back of the library. Really, someone needs to fix the lighting back there; I about killed myself tripping over this thing."

Eyes widening, Beverly Rogers took a step back, "This library had never had an "Occult Book" section, and it never will; I was hard-pressed to allow the Harry Potter books in this library.

Nodding, Georgia slowly reached for the book; she wasn't sure if she was the one going crazy or if dementia was at the edges of Mrs. Rogers's mind.

Later that night, Georgia had the Grimoire opened on her kitchen table; scanning the pages, she realized that this girl just wanted to help the people around her. 

There were spells to ward off evil and recipes to help with diarrhea; Mary had noted adding a bit of salt to drinking water helped to cure the illness faster. Nothing about this book was evil, nor did it mention the Devil. Georgia wondered what happened to Mary Agnus; she prayed that she lived to old age, healing and helping her people. That was until she reached midway through the book and found the last entry.

Spell of Binding

I bind myself to this tome, 

I will my soul to make it home,

Though death cometh to take me away,

To thee, I will always stay,

If the day doth arise where a sister call to me

To her, I will come,

So Mote it be.

If a sister should find mine, Grimoire, speak this, and to her, I will own my allegiance.

Spell of release  

Sister mine so wrongfully dead,

to me come to ease your dread,

For your life was taken too soon,

by those who would bring you doom 

Your soul I do release,

to come live among us in peace.

So mote it be. 

At least, that's how Georgia translated it; Old English was hard for those who studied it intensely and even harder for those who tried not to doze off in the class. Georgia added the so mote it be because it's how a lot of the spells she found on Pinterest ended, so it had to work...right? 

Georgia had to wait until the new moon to perform the ritual, which gave her time to gather the necessary materials needed. Amazingly, she didn't need the eye or newt or tongue of a dog or some such. Shakespeare didn't know everything. Georgia didn't have to toil or bubble, either. 

On the night of the new moon, she drew a Pentacle with salt in her backyard and then added various herbs, such as mint; fortunately, she had found some growing in her yard; then she sprinkled basil and rosemary that she had lingering in the back of her spice shelf. Lastly, she lit the candles that were at the 5 points. It had called for candles made of beeswax, but she had some nice ones from bath and body works that would do.

A scene from the movie Evil Dead, Army of Darkness ran through her mind as she recited the incantation, necktie, and nectar, but this was real life, not some B movie she'd seen in college, plus it was modern times; magic had to keep up...didn't it?

Georgia let the candles burn until the moon disappeared from the sky; now, she waited. Hopefully, some shambling corpse didn't hit her ring doorbell tonight.

Pulling into her drive, Georgia full-on expected to see Night of the Living Dead hanging out on her porch swing, but there was nothing. She began to giggle to herself; what was she thinking? There is no such thing as magic or witchcraft; her writer's block had sent her into desperation so absurd that she would try anything to get her mojo back. 

Maybe it had worked; she now has a story to tell about a 16th-century witch brought back to the 21st century. The possibilities began to flow through her mind; how would someone from that time meet the world of today?

Excitement overtook Georgia, and she bolted to the house, wanting to get to her laptop, notebook, anything to write this all down before it vanished from her mind. Giggling again, Georgia wrote every idea she had for Mary Agnus and her soon-to-be adventures in the modern world, but then something moved in the corner of her eye; just on the edge of her peripheral vision, she swung her head around. Georgia screamed as a young woman in just a shift, long and dingy, stood staring at her through the slider door.

That was the last day happy day of Georgia's life; she had brought back Mary, sort of; it had lasted for 3 days before the spectator was sucked back into the book. Georgia had come to find out that the mint was actually cat nip, and the dried old herbs from her cabinet weren't exactly the best, never mind what Mary Agnus thought about her choice in candles; apparently, just because they smelled pretty, didn't give them the intentioned needed for a strong spell, and apparently, the words mattered just like Evil Dead. 

Before Mary was sucked back into the book, she had laid a curse upon Georgia that if she didn't bring her out of the book every new moon that the block that plagued her mind would be in place until she did. 

The unfortunate side effect of doing the spell wrong was that a piece of Mary's soul was permanently attached to the book now, and she'd forever have a half-life between here and there. There was a cost for that as well; on every new moon, when Mary left her book, she possessed Georgia's body, living a life that neither of them imagined having.