Warning: This chapter includes self-harm.
Mikasa spent a week acquiring the objects needed to summon Ymir. At 11:45pm that Friday, she began to set up everything. She placed 5 wax candles in a huge circle on the floor, then arranged many blood red flower petals in the form of a pentagram inside it. After she placed the book in the middle of the star, she slowly alit each candle individually. She glanced at the clock in her room, 11:58pm.
She heaved out a breath, it's not like she had anything to lose. She pulled one of her long sleeves back, exposing a few self-harm marks that she had inflicted over the past year.
11:59pm.
She dug out the pocket knife out of her back pocket, switched it open, and readied it at her wrist. When the clock struck 12, she proclaimed, "Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos!" at the last syllable, she slit her wrist at an angle, sending some of her blood flying onto the book.
Mikasa grabbed her wrist in pain and watched as the book began to steam. The orange glow of the candle flames turned to a vibrant purple and began to connect between the candles, actually forming a circle. The flames then moved across the flower petals, burning them in their wake, and making a bright, glowing purple pentagram of fire. Mikasa stepped back, squinting her eyes as the purple steam shot up 6 feet in the air and filled the entire circle.
The smoke dispersed, and standing in the middle of the circle, book in hand, was- Ymir? If she was, she certainly didn't look it. Instead of slim, curved horns Mikasa remembered, the horns were antler like, one with a rounded tip, the other having the top half of the horn completely cut off. Although the top was rounded, the branch-like parts that were sticking out the side of them, were quite sharp looking. The horns themselves weren't red like she had imagined, either. They were a deep, forest green, with many significantly lighter green lines swirling around them, and a single orange line in the middle of one.
Shifting her eyes downward, she noticed the face wasn't the same either. The demon's face, and skin in general, was quite tan, and although donning the same high cheek-bones the statue did, was very different. Instead of sharp, chiseled angles, it's face was well rounded. Instead of a straight, blunt nose, it's nose was curved and bulby. She noticed it's openly smiling mouth, full of short sharp teeth, the pointy ears similar to an elf's, poking out behind long brown hair half surrounding her face, half in a high ponytail, and the strong, light brown eyes lined with a neon yellow glow.
It wore a white button-up shirt, grey vest, and black slacks. It's hands, the left being completely green, had clawed finger tips. Mikasa noted it's thick physique and could spot a swishing green tailing behind the demon.
Swallowing, she asked, "A-are you, Ymir?"
The demon snickered, it's mouth pulling up into a huge grin. "Sorry," it said in a thick southern accent, "wrong number."
