Thin tendrils of smoke wafted towards the ceiling of the small chamber as a door slammed and a slightly wizened old man hastened over to where his latest magickal incantation had gone awry. Gingerly he examined the remains of his occult experiment, wondering what had caused this unforeseen mishap. His deep reverie was suddenly broken by a shrill wavering cry which echoed throughout the room.
“I told you it wouldn’t work! Ypos, you know you can’t do anything right!”
The door swung open, knocking over a table which stood beside it. A large overbearing woman filled the doorway, glaring at the old man. He grinned rather sheepishly at her. Her eyes fixed upon him and he quickly moved to begin cleaning up the wrecked paraphernalia which surrounded him.
She cursed him and left the room, muttering and grumbling under her breath. The old man slowly finished cleaning up his chamber, all the time contemplating upon the cause of his misfortune. He was quietly reciting the arcane chants and spells he had used, and just as he was about to finish his recitation, he was interrupted by a cry from above.
“Ypos! Get up here now and get these THINGS out of my sight!”
The old man realized that he must have unintentionally left some of his materials upstairs and with an inward grimace he went to retrieve them. Under her baneful and unblinking gaze he gathered up his belongings and returned to his workshop.
Once again, he tried to assess the cause of his failure, when he suddenly realized that it was not him at fault—it was the aura of negative energy that flowed from his wife that disrupted the workings of his arcane arts.
He stood up, muttering to himself. “Why, I am Ypos of Throk, descended from a line of magickians and sages going back generations. I have great powers, yet all of my work ends in failure! And why? Because of a meddlesome woman! If only prophecy or telepathy were part of my birthright so that I might have foreseen this, but such was not to be.”
The old man wandered about the small chamber, finally stopping before a well-stocked bookcase. As his eyes wandered over the tomes and scrolls there before him, an idea began slowly to form. With his arcane skills, could he not rid himself of his wife, and then prosper as he released his new occult powers?
Quickly he sat down before the volumes in his collection, and finally pulled a slim book from a secret drawer, and reverently held it in his hands. It was his father’s father’s compilation of various esoteric rites and spells used to summon forth daemons, ghouls, and Those Who Dwell Beyond.
Eagerly he began to leaf through the yellowed vellum, searching for just the right incantation which would allow him to dispose of his wife and reap the glory of his newly-returned powers. As he carefully studied the small crabbed writings of his forebears, he came at last upon the singular name of “Aloc-cR.” With a satisfied smile, he closed the book and began preparations for his new undertaking.
It was but a short time later that the old man was ready to cast the spells which would set him free, for his small chamber was well-stocked with the various sundries and artifacts that he might require. He placed the book before him, lit several fat tapers and began to read from the scribbled words of his forefathers.
“O Elder Gods of Man! Hear my humble plea!” he began. “By the words of Magick, I ask thy boon! Send me the one called Aloc-cR to do my bidding! Iya! Iya!!”
The air around the old man began to shimmer, as if filling with some occult energy. Above the candles, the wisps of vapor swirled together and began to take shape; soon the old man could make out a form of some sort and eagerly he continued his incantations.
The shape grew larger and darker, and before his eyes Ypos saw a hideous thing appear. A huge misshapen beast with flapping wings and tentacled mouth hovered in the air before him. He gleefully clapped his hands, and, moving to the door, called for his wife.
She grumbled at him as she made her way down the stairs, and was still mumbling as she entered the room, but fell silent when she gazed upon the thing which floated above the old man. Ypos raised his hands majestically and told the horror before him that here was the sacrifice which had been promised. The thing seemed to ponder the old man’s words for several moments, then tentacled appendages shot out and quickly entwined themselves about the startled form of the old man!
He struggled as best he could against the strength of the hell-spawn, but to no avail. In desperation, he called out to his wife, but as he looked her way, he saw her shake her head and grumble one last time, “Ypos, you simply can’t do anything right!”
But as darkness began to fill him, he realized that she was wrong; this time his magicks had worked. Not quite the way he had wanted, but he would still be free of her.
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