The Children of the Black Lotus (Or was it The Temple?)

Craig shifted nervously upon his makeshift throne; five plastic chairs stacked atop each other draped in a dusty black tablecloth. He tugged anxiously at his maroon robes, as he waited for his congregation to arrive for the gathering of the “Children of the Black Lotus”.

Everything was just as he envisioned it: the windows were blacked out, plastic skulls from the Halloween store were placed haphazardly around the room with dripping candles emerging from their hollowed tops, ominous Gregorian chants echoed from an old tape deck in the corner and a chalk summoning circle adorned the center of the community hall. A Pentagon naturally, Craig being a traditionalist at heart.

However, Craig remained nervous. After all, it was his first day on the job as a cult leader, a far cry from his accounting days at Sneed n’ Greed Incorporated. He reminded himself that every cult had to start somewhere and that the instructions in the pamphlets were crystal clear, “If the Scientologists can do it, so can I”, thought Craig, “After all, I’ve been cooking their books for years!”.

The process of recruitment was simple. A cryptic message let loose upon the most depraved and deranged members of society. Namely, an invite upon the calendars of the underground and abandoned realms of society’s outcasts, Google+ and MySpace.

Three knocks in quick succession echoed from the double metal doors across the other side of the hall. A bad start, the post clearly stated two knocks, followed by a pause and a final knock. Craig composed himself and pointed at the door with a bony finger, at the end of which stood a long, chipped fingernail. Such an aesthetic decision was an adjustment for Craig, given his dedication to cleanliness, however he accepted that no cult leader worth his salt would dare be seen with manicured nails and opted to do the same, although with a great deal of reluctance.

“Awaken my child, seek entrance!”, his commanding voice boomed with an authoritative aura, seldom seen among accountants. From behind his throne, Trevor’s diminutive frame emerged and scuttled toward the doors, his over-sized robe leaving a clean trail behind him on the dusty wooden and splintered floors.

Just over a year ago, Trevor found himself an intern at one of the world’s most prestigious accounting firms. Little did he know that mentorship under Craig would give way to his resignation at Sneed n' Greed, and his appointment of “Chief Warlock” of the Children of the Black Lotus.

The old door made a screeching sound as Trevor tugged on it with all his might, before finally popping his head out to welcome their first follower, “Oh hey there! Do you have your passwo…”

“Chief Warlock!” screamed Craig, before lowering his voice through clenched teeth, “Stay in character”.

“Oh right, sorry!” replied Trevor. He cleared his throat, “Ahem, thee who seek entrance proceed to me. A password for the gatekeeper, Chief Warlock of the three!”

“Ah! Chief Warlock, so you head up this whole gig?” came the reply.

Trevor, awkwardly shuffled his feet before finding himself, “N-No. That would be the Lord Warlock, menacing is he, from whence he stands… uhm… behind me!”

“Oh right! Sorry, I'm still getting used to all this occult terminology and what have you. So, uh… my password… it’s a capital ‘S’ and then lower case ‘p.o.t.s’, first childhood pet he was”.

Trevor turned to face Craig, “Lord Warlock, the follower has announced ‘Spots’, with a capital ‘S’ doth he satisfy entry?”

Craig furrowed his brow, clearly Trevor prowess for numbers, led to him lacking in other areas, “For goodness sake Chief Warlock! We went over this. Each password has to consist of six letters, one of them a capital letter, followed by a special character”.

“Whoops sorry Craig”, replied an embarrassed Trevor.

“Ahem, Lord Warlock”

“Eep! I meant Lord Warlock, sorry about that Craig!”, he turned once more to face their visitor, “The Lord Warlock has deemed your passage unworthy”.

“Hang on, give me a moment”, said the visitor before reaching into his pocket and fishing out a crumpled-up sticky note. He unfolded the note and squinted at the text between the coffee stains, “Right, so it’s capital ‘S’ followed by ‘p.o.t.t.y’ and then that ‘at’ symbol at the end. You know, like an ‘a’ with the circle around it you use in emails and stuff”.

Craig arose from his throne, his arms spread wide open, “Enter, oh blessed child of The Black Lotus!”

The man shuffled in, leading to Craig’s theatrics and confidence being replaced with naked anger, “What!? What the hell! Your robe?! Red and/or maroon, very simple, are you colourblind or just plain stupid?”

“Well! I never!” cried the man in his lavender robe, “I was under the impression that this was an inclusive space Chief Warl…”

“Lord Warlock! It’s Lord Warlock!”

“Yeah, yeah, King, Lord, Exalted Warlock, it’s all the same thing! As I was saying, not only are your comments quite frankly ableist, but the pamphlet I received from the Black Lotus’ Children clearly stated purple, violet and/or lavender robes!”

Trevor got in the space between the two men, doing his upmost best not to scuff the summoning circle, “Hang on Crai… I mean Lord Warlock. I see what’s going on hear”. He turned to face their visitor, “Common mistake really, you see we’re the Children of the Black Lotus. You’re looking for the Black Lotus’ Children”. He crossed the room and held the door open for the man and pointed down the hallway, “Just go straight, passed the second door on the left, up the first flight of stairs and you’ll see doors just like these, just with some poor virgin’s blood all over them. Can’t miss it really!”

The man glared at Craig for a moment, before thanking Trevor and continuing down the hallway. Frustrated, but happy to be rid of the bumbling warlocks of the Children of the Black Lotus.

Hours past without so much as a tap on the large metal doors. “Damn it all”, cursed Craig. He knew it was only a matter of time before he had to pack up his trinkets and make way for the early evening karate classes, perhaps the abandoned cemetery would have been a better choice, “Oh well Chief Warlock, I guess we’ll begin”.

They took their positions around the summoning circle, when a woman’s voice squeaked from behind the metal doors, “Hey there, sorry I’m a bit late, is this the Temple of the Black Lotus?”.

Trevor began toward the door, “No this is actually the Children of the Black Lo…”.

“Shut up, Chief Warlock”, whispered Craig. He straightened his robe and puffed out his chest, “Why yes! The Temple art we, so cometh thee!”. Trevor looked puzzled, prior to this evening their conversations involved ledgers and ‘T – Graphs’, not bad renditions of ‘Shakespeare in the Park’.

“So, must I ask her for a password or…”

“Just let her in Trevor”, sighed Craig, “If we don’t hurry, we’ll have some snot nosed brats doing ‘katas’ on our summoning circle”.

Trevor opened the door and a stout lady with a pink robe walked in. “Close enough”, thought Craig. “Welcome my child”, grinned Craig, “Myself and the Chief Warlock are just about to begin the ritual!”.

“Oh goodie!”, cried the lady with a bounce to her knees, “I can’t wait to meet Santa!”

Once again, Craig dropped the façade, “Santa! Lady, can you not here the unnerving chants and see the pentagram on the floor!? What about any of this screams Santa to you?”

Her happy demeanor gave way to sorrow, “I mean… I did think it all a bit odd. But we know as Christians that we borrow heavily from pagan traditions. Besides, you’re all wearing red suits, like jolly St. Nick”.

“As Christians!? Did you not read the post? It clearly says we wish to commune with Satan, not Santa!”, it was at that moment that Craig realized just how thick the spectacles where that adorned the women’s face. Her eyes seemed to magnify beyond the frames of her glasses, as she stood in a state of shock and panic.

"S-S-Satan! Why Chief Warlo…”

“Lord Warlock!”, shouted Trevor and Craig in unison.

“Sorry, Lord Warlock whatever do you mean by Satan? As in The Beast? 666? Generally nasty chap?”

Craig shook with anger, as his pale skin turned a bright shade of red to match his attire “Yes! The very same!” And unless you want the karate kid and friends to be swallowed up by some demonic forces in the next hour, I ask that you decide right here and now whether you wish to stay or go!”

To his surprise, the lady stroked her chin thoughtfully, as she pondered her options, “Well, truth be told, I’ve never heard his side of the story. Let’s see what he has to say for himself”.

“Finally!”, Craig turned to Trevor, “Chief Warlock, commence with Ritual G”.

Due to budgetary and time constraints, Craig decreed that the Children of the Black Lotus would begin summoning rituals at the lowest level and work themselves up. Everyone knew to speak to Boss Beelzebub, you required a whole DnD club’s worth of virgins to sacrifice, commonly known as Ritual A. Below that came singular virgins, virgin black cats, naughty non – virgin black cats, virgin chickens, naughty non – virgin chickens and finally a single chicken’s egg. Once and for all ending the debate of which came first, (in so far as occultists were concerned).

Trevor produced an egg from the inside of his robe and flung it dead center of the summoning circle, all the while Craig’s recently decrepit, outstretched hands contorted into twisted shapes as he lip-synched to the tinny audio quality of the tape deck’s chanting.

The yolk of the egg began to bubble and contort into various shapes, before forming the outline of a tiny impish form. The yellow yolk slid off the knobby skin of the creature, which stood perplexed at its forceful invitation.

Craig got to his knees to better address the tiny familiar, taking care not to be whacked in the face by it’s restless, forked tail, “Oh Great One of the Abyss! Bringer of doom and harbinger of evil! We your humble servants beseech thee, grant us our blessings and us your servitude!”

The creature suppressed a laugh, “Oh Great One? Buddy, I can see you’re new to this, but come on!? You sacrificed a chicken egg; it wasn’t even free range. What do you expect from me? A golden fiddle? Not gonna happen pal.”

Craig remained steadfast, “If it pleases you, my lord, we seek dominion over all things! Whereto we shall produce monuments and legions in your honour!”

“What are ya? Stupid? Geez, you’re a worse listener than all them lawyers we got down where I’m from! The best I can do is maybe get the first two numbers of next week’s lotto right, did the same for the Church of the Black lotus about a month ago. Or maybe I could…”

“Two for one pizza!”, yelled the women, her face buried in her phone.

“What!?”, roared Craig.

“Righto! Two pizzas coming up!”, the little devil squealed as he raised his tiny claws in the air and with a flick of his wrists, disappeared in a puff of foul-smelling smoke.

The sulfuric aroma wafted in the air, as both Craig and Trevor glared and the woman, demanding an answer for her outburst. She held up her cellphone, showing the two men her latest notification, “You see! Two for one pizza on Uber Eats, what a bargain!”

In an instant and with literal demonic speed, the room was flooded with light as a sniveling teenager stood by the light switch, a stack of pizza boxes in his hand. The tape deck skipped a track and gave way to Kool and the Gang’s Celebration. The inaugural gathering of the Children of the Black Lotus, a resounding failure.

Craig moaned as Trevor and the woman made their way over to the cheesy delights, leaving him slumped over the now defunct summoning circle. “Was accounting all that bad?”, thought Craig, “sure, I was a glorified bean counter and the company’s espresso machine kept packing up, but surely it was better than this!?”

He felt a comforting arm over his shoulder, as Trevor offered him a slice of soggy, mass produced pizza, “Oh cheer up Lord Warlock! We got free dinner, didn’t we?”, he pointed to the lady in pink, “Besides, maybe the true demons, were the friends we summoned along the way”.

Craig scowled at his latest recruit, peering closely at her chubby hands as they dug into the pizza boxes. To his delight, he saw no ring of any kind adorning her fingers. “Hey you! Christian you say? Ever been married?”

She turned to face Craig and shook her head, her eyes watering as the roof of her mouth was burnt by the copious amounts of scolding hot cheese stuffed in her mouth.

“Why Chief Warlock”, smirked Craig, “I believe we can commence with Ritual B next week!”