Two bare feet pattered through a dense forest late at night, gently tiptoeing over the roots and slipping through dense fog a body of black shadows danced through the night.
With a woven basket in hand the moon's light illuminated its contents, the baskets belly filled with plants plucked from dense vegetation which consisted of dandelions and mullein along with a handful of angelica root just for good measure.
The being totted through the bushes with ease as they followed a warm light, peeking through the trees trunks until it's glow grew larger and eventually led them to a small hut, it was made simply with mud walls and a mossy roof- which was partially held up by wooden columns- and logs that pilled by a hole with no door, instead replaced by a raggedy cloth.
Drawing closer to the stubby building the stranger pulled down their baggy black hood to show a young woman who's skin mocked even the moon at the existence of her pale flesh, accompanied by slender cheeks and dark hair held high in an old rag smaller sparse locks fell from the grip into a neat right sided fringe, the woman's brows were as dark as her hair and her eyes appeared near black under the shadow of her hood, shifting a light grey when the fires light met her gaze "It's nearly time" the young woman muttered while ducking under the cloth barrier with the basket held gently under her arm.
Inside the cabin was a nestlike bed made of multiple animal furs and a cauldron which sat in the far right hanging on an iron hook inside an unlit fireplace built into the wall, a black pile of ash hidden underneath its bowels. Between the large pot and bedding was a high shelf filled with dried herbs and labeled bottles along with some water damaged books, from the roof hung various handmade decorations glittering with broken pieces of glass which danced at their homeowners arrival, drying meat hung next to the only window from iron hooks.
Candles bled from every perch allowing a warm glow to thrive in the boxed darkness, some of the more taller black wax cylinders were pulled from the pile of melted ripples they melted with and were held to the females covered chest clumsily as she kicked away a large fur rug from the middle of the room, hidden underneath it was a pentagram carved into the wooden floorboards.
She threw the candles to the middle of the star and rushed around her home, lighting whatever wicks weren't already lit and pulled out some incense, blinking before bending into the same drawer and plucking out an unopened bottle of wine, and lit the scented twigs on the surrounding candles before pressing the ignited sticks into dry wax and placed the bottle gently next to the black candles on the floor.
Finding a random hand carved bowl of white chalk paint she dabbed her fingers in the mushy mixture and began sketching a sigil over the pentagram.
"This is a big risk" she mumbled with a hand on her chin and furrowed brows, leaving a smudge of white paint on her jaw, but in the next moment the female was already preparing for her guest, beginning with placing a wax light on each point and then stealing her palm under a loose pillow by her bedding before quickly returning to the circle with a roll of parchment in her nervous grip, scrunching the paper momentarily before eventually kneeling inside the circle and rolling it against the hardwood floor.
Weighing the curled corners down with a rosary on one side and a silver knife on the other the metals surfaces reflected a light glow from the baby flames which surrounded them.
"Audi me, Quaerite me. Zangetsu validus voco..." her finger ran along the messy scribbles, the words spilling from plump lips as a feeling of fission sapped through her nerves "De chao, et imperium, et vires novo principio."
A gentle gust breezed through the bones of her home, the cloth which covered the archway to outside danced with the air. As more words left the pages the rush of air grew stronger and stronger each passing second, soon turning the young females fingers cold- but she must press on.
Nothing was allowed to stop this incantation.
The gathering power whaled and wounded through her home, knocking over bottles and books as the strong trees outside fought against the supernatural weather.
"Audi vocem meam, ab umbris ultra: Interrogabo vos et ego invocabo te quia hora tenebrae!"
A bolt of lightening thrashed nearby her home as she finished the last syllables of the chant and- as if it were struck by the fire- the middle of the paper before her appeared scorched, the parchment began burning from the middle eventually circling outwards and ate away at itself from the inside before it's dull ashes were the only thing lighting the forest hut.
It's burnt pieces parchment lifted itself from the sigil and whirled past her gaze, lighting the grey in her orbs.
The woman's stare followed the bright orange spectacles curiously until stomping footsteps surrounded her home, growing closer and closer until three heavy knocks came from somewhere outside.
"Come in" she welcomed numbly.
The woman could feel the outside worlds coldness crawl into the hut as something lifted the makeshift door with a low rumble in its throat, relighting the candles fixed onto the pentagram.
What sounded like bare heavy feet rocked against the wood, shaking lose objects in the casters home but she never flinched at the imposing force for she had called his presents.
The spirit slowly made their way around the filled circle with a keen eye on the knelt female, she could feel the weighed stare- sending shivers along her flesh but dare not rise her vision to meet the beasts eye.
"You forgot the salt circle" the creature rumbled, she could see their clawed toes as he stood before her, the skin which covered them were as pale as marble.
A thin black cloth draped across the floorboards of her humble shack and pooled around the imposing body, she shook her head at his deduction "No, I left it out of the ritual purposely. I did not want a barrier between us"
The low toned being paced around her once more before they too knelt to the floor with bent knees, there she saw the pure skin of the spirit. Their white marble flesh covering impressive muscles, their body being nothing less than perfection.
The black robe was tied to a skinny waist by a thin white sash, along the hem of their clothing it was lined with a dark red lint. Keeping her eyes low a large claw took hold of the females chin and raised her heavy stare "What is your name, witch?"
Her eyes met hollow sockets.
The appearance of the demon was far from anything she could have ever imagined. They were tall, taller than any man the witch had ever met, and skinny but muscles rippled beneath his coat of skin.
Their body may appear human but the visitors face appeared as though a carved skull masked their true features, with black markings running down each side of their face the dark lines led down further than any human gaze would be allowed to go. Adorned with two impressive horns which circled the young woman's face as the spirit leaned forward she was breathtakingly astounded by the demons form.
Long precious locks of fiery orange draped passed their shoulders before her eyes momentarily flinched down the rivers of black which all seemed to sink into a hole in their chest which proved that she had summoned the creature who had no heart.
"My name is Bridget Bishop, Lord Zangetsu"