SHORT STORY THE GRIMOIRE
THE GRIMOIRE
Automatic traslation from the original story in Spanish. Not checked manually
It had been a few days since they had been able to locate her. Her work as an anthropologist sometimes made it difficult to contact her.
When they finally managed to do so, the news they gave her, although it was predictable, plunged her into deep sadness: her grandmother had died almost a month ago.
The next day she took a plane and returned to Galicia, she had to get to her village as soon as possible. Perhaps it was absurd, there was nothing she could do for her grandmother, that woman who, when her parents died in a car accident when she was a child, raised her, caring for her with tenderness and care.
She arrived in Viveiro at about six in the afternoon and went directly to see Héctor Piñeiro, the notary who was her friend and with whom she had played so many times when they were little at her grandmother’s house.
She went to see him at his house, they knew each other very well and, in addition, he was the one who had warned her and at that time his office was closed.
After a good while sharing memories, some happier, others sadder, he told her that his grandmother had left everything to her: some money and the house.
He gave her the key to the house and told her not to worry about anything, that he would take care of all the inheritance paperwork for her. And he added: —You can go see her tomorrow at the cemetery, she is in her niche, you know, 123.
The girl nodded and, heading for the door, with a small voice, she answered: —I will go tomorrow. You don’t know how bad I feel for not having been able to say goodbye to her.
—Sofia, you know that your grandmother was a bit of a witch. I’m sure she will listen to you when you talk to her. —Héctor consoled her.
Once on the street, she realized that she was carrying the key to the house in her hand, she looked at it and smiled remembering her elderly grandmother and that old mansion where she had spent her childhood and youth.
Almost without realizing it, her steps made their way through the shadows of the night towards the house that had once been her home.
The wind whistled through the old structure of the mansion, sighing like a ghost. The moon, a silver disk in the night sky, cast long shadows that danced between the dilapidated columns.
Sofia, with her heart beating in her throat, entered the house. She touched the switch to turn on the light, but it didn’t work. Maybe they had turned it off when she died. A strange feeling invaded her thoughts. She used the flashlight on her cell phone, even though she knew the house and wouldn’t have needed it, to avoid tripping over something.
Her grandmother, an eccentric woman in some ways, had dedicated herself to investigating the paranormal. The house, with its dusty hallways and empty rooms, was filled with a strange energy. Sofia didn’t believe in ghosts, but she had the constant feeling that something was watching her. In the main room, an old display case held a book bound in black leather. Her grandmother called it “The Grimoire,” a book containing ancient spells and rituals. Sofia had never dared to open it, but now, drawn by an invisible force, she approached the display case and took it in her hands. The name of that book embossed on the old leather cover was: “Necronomicon.”
The young woman was surprised; she had always believed that this name belonged to a literary fiction used in the story “The Hound” by H.P. Lovecraft.
The pages of the book, yellowed and fragile, were full of symbols and letters in a language she did not recognize. She opened it more or less in the middle and, without knowing why, began to read aloud those words that she did not understand. Sofia felt a chill run down her spine as she read the last paragraph on the page, this one in Spanish: “You have summoned the spirit of the night, you must pay a price for it.”
Suddenly, the house began to shake. A cold wind blew through the room, extinguishing the candles Sofia had lit. The display case suddenly opened, and several more books along with the book she was holding rose into the air, floating in front of her.
With a fear that paralyzed her, Sofia felt something approaching her. A dark shadow extended from the book, enveloping her in an oppressive silence. The shadow grew denser, taking human form. A pale, disfigured face materialized in front of her, its eyes shining with a red light.
“You have summoned the spirit of the night,” said the shadow in a voice that seemed to come from the depths of the earth. “Now, you must pay the price.”
Sofia stepped back, unable to utter a word. The spirit lunged at her, its cold, bony hands gripping her neck. Sofia felt the life draining from her, her vision blurring.
At that moment, a loud clap of thunder echoed in the sky, and a flash of lightning illuminated the room. The spirit vanished into thin air, leaving Sofia lying on the floor, gasping for air.
Then the house returned to its usual silence, but Sofia knew something had changed. The night had shown her a dark, terrifying face, a price that she couldn’t understand it yet. What had she summoned? What price would she have to pay?
The questions echoed in her mind, while the moon, now hidden by the clouds, cast disturbing shadows on the mansion. Sofia feared that her life would never be the same again.
Terrified, she left the house and went to the Boa Vista hotel. Maybe it had all been a trick of her imagination. She would sleep and possibly the next day she would realize that it had all been a product of her mind.
The next day when she got up she smiled, after resting she was convinced that none of what she experienced in the mansion had been real and she decided to visit the cemetery to see her grandmother’s resting place.
Already in front of niche 123, she began to talk to her, she thought that maybe Hector was right and she would hear him… —Hello grandma. —she said—I’m sorry I wasn’t with you to say goodbye… I was at home yesterday and everything reminded me of you… I was looking through your book “Negronomicon” and something very strange happened to me —she confessed almost laughing…
Suddenly Sofia turned pale. Her grandmother’s voice had begun to speak to her: “No, my daughter. You made a mistake and you will have to pay for it. The price is to continue doing my spells and invocations from the old mansion.” Sofia then materialized inside the mansion. She tried to get out, but couldn’t. Then, terrified, she understood why her grandmother never left the house in recent years, not even in the garden.