The pentagram of candles on the oak floor illuminated her living room in an eerie glow. Should I go through with this? Adrenaline coursed through Elizabeth's veins manifesting itself into extreme nervousness. She held the open incunable, that the stranger gave her, in trembling hands. Her breathing was rapid. Her heart danced like a butterfly in the wind as she stared at the dark canticle written in Latin. Elizabeth wondered why in hell she hadn't thrown the book away. It was evil, she could feel it, but she couldn't part with it for reasons she didn't understand. The book had enthralled and captivated her from the moment she worked up the courage to open it. It was indeed a book on magic, as the stranger had said, but it was not filled with cheap parlor tricks, or slight of hand illusions, but actual spells, witchcraft, and sorcery. She remembered the words of the stranger. “I bet it gets lonely in here and at home; no one wants to be lonely.”
