storm clouds gathering over Taco Bell. “I saw clouds like that the day I summoned Charnokc,” Deb said. Sybil didn’t respond but narrowed her eyes at the Taco Bell. The time had come for an exorcism. That’s what Sybil decided. She called for reinforcements. Aside from Deb, the only people she knew were in her drum circle and amateur coven. They assembled in the Taco Bell parking lot. Wind howled; clouds billowed. Dust twisted in a taunting loop like a miniature tornado, accentuated by the vibrations of the drums. The drummers wore festival attire — tie-dye and beads. Cars honked, hungry, grumbling and desperate for a demon’s radical empathy. Sybil stood before them: “Drummers keep drumming. Coven, have your crystals at the ready!” She held a standing point quartz overhead. “The power gathers at the base. We attack with the point. Avoid kyanite, selenite, azurite. Anything brittle. Get ready to hurl your palm stones and clusters on sight. We’re going to Baja Blast this demon into the next realm!” Deb hadn’t been invited or warned, but she wandered out of the house in sweatpants and slippers for a solo stroll. She craved a quesadilla, felt curious about the crowds and drumsong. Sybil didn’t notice her arrival. Her eyes were on the double doors of the Taco Bell as they burst open saloon-at-high-noon style. Charnokc stood there and loosed a laugh that unsteadied the drummers and shook the earth. With a wild battle cry, Sybil ran toward the demon, charging with a massive cluster of tourmaline. The demon leapt at her and uttered a guttural cry, “Kchlktal!” The wind picked up. “The roommates are fighting again,” Deb muttered. She tried to call out to them, but her voice was carried away amidst the swirling dust and wild drumming. Deb shivered in the cold wind and piercing grit. Crystals flew through the air. Like so often when Deb looked at the demon, she found it difficult to focus on its shape and features. The effort was so taxing that she felt the urge to crawl under one of the cars in the drive-thru line and go to sleep right there. She squinted, determined to see, to refine the blur of sickly green, to enhance the quadruple horns and mottled skin, to recognize the embodiment of a pain and distress she could not name. “Charnokc charnokc charnokc,” said Deb, quietly — too quietly to be heard. Yet, the demon stopped in its tracks, turned its yellow eyes in Deb’s direction. “Charnokc the Disheveler, Bringer of Disarray, Steward of Shadows, Shiver-maker of the Otherworld, Proprietor in the Plains of Despair, Champion of the Downfallen, Middle Manager of Pain, Taco Bell Team Member, Drive-thru Operator, Granter of Wishes, Destroyer of Stars, Advocate of Rage, Sympathizer of the Wounded.” Sybil looked to where Charnokc’s attention was drawn, noticing Deb for the first time. “Debbie, you left the house on your own! I’m so proud of you!” Sybil’s grip on the crystal relaxed. It fell from her hand, and it bounced off the pavement of the parking lot. Deb extended her arm, and the demon reached back to her, the tips of their fingers touching, lightning striking the air between them. Deb, Sybil and Charnokc stood in the center of the circle, drums pounding. Charnokc whispered to Deb, a cacophony of dissonant echoes behind its words. “Pain and misery has been unleashed upon the world,” said Charnokc. “You are no longer alone.” They were three silhouettes and Taco Bell against the sunset. All around them, TikTokers danced. Their videos were going viral. FOLLOW ZOE MARZO FOR MORE: IG + BSKY - @LIFEANDMARS ART BY MARINA POPMARLEO No. 145
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