turned the key to the ignition then fixed her hands on the steering wheel.
“So we're heading back?”
“Yeah, why? You wanna drive?” She asked over her arm.
“Nah, you can take us back.”
“Suit yourself.” She said as she peered over her shoulder to reverse out the parking.
Jane pulled out the parking lot when they received a call for a reported break in over the radio. Will looked at Jane who seemed irritated by the call.
“We're in the area.” Will said hesitantly.
“Okay, call it in.”
Jane spun the steering wheel around, forcing them in the opposite direction. The loose papers, trash and also the idol was flung around the vehicle as they turned abruptly on the main road. Will called it in and placed the siren on before buckling up and dusting the salt and pepper off his pants when he noticed the idol had rolled off the dashboard and onto the mat. He bent down innocently to retrieve it when suddenly there was a deafening crash, the sound of metal being twisted filled the air when Will's ears began to ring. The high pitched noise drowned all the sounds out except for his heartbeat which overrode the hum. His body became numb as he was flung to the side, being bashed up against the window and ricocheted back. The sound of car tyres screeching against the tar took over as the vehicle was flung out of control, burning rubber polluted the atmosphere around the car when it suddenly rolled and Jane was mercilessly flung from the vehicle and suddenly crushed by it. The sky liquefied as Will's vision blurred and he blacked out.
The idol rolled out the window and circled the loose gravel from the road before coming to a halt, exposing a seal beneath it. Will came to as fluorescent roof lights passed over him, hypnotising him as he felt a jerk as the bottom of the bed burst the swinging doors wide open.
At the scene of the accident, the young man that had reported it to the ambulance but decided he too would be taking a souvenir; and that happened to be the idol. He noticed it roll out the car window along broken glass, revealing some assembly of symbols beneath it, he reached for it when he was startled by Will's arm that had inconveniently flopped out the car. The movement startled the young man, prompting him to grab the totem and bolt down a side street where he ran endlessly as the bottom of his shoes slapped against the small puddles until he could run no further.
“What the hell is that?” He questioned, turning the carved item over to reveal a symbol that seemed distinctly occult related. He put the item down before kneeling in front of it, pulling his backpack off his shoulders he undid the flap and stuffed the totem inside, glancing around suspiciously before throwing it over his shoulder and walking off. The short, thick, black hair masked his face as he walked out the alley and across the street to the sidewalk, with his head down, in order not to attract any form of attention to himself.
He reached into his pants pocket, retrieving a set of keys, which he searched through before trying the door on a rundown house in a bad neighbourhood. Upon unlocking the door, he peered over his shoulder yet again, as if he were worried someone was following him. He slammed the door and latched it behind him when he slinked back to his room. The room door had a child like decorative appearance to it, covered with a 'keep out' out sign, followed by several symbols and amidst the chaos, the name 'Kyle' in black on white card. He promptly entered and threw his bag on the bed, tossing it as if it were rubbish. Kyle turned the radio on and the volume up, he was trying to drown something out, something deep in his head, becoming more aggressive as he twisted the antenna around to stop the hissing. Along the walls were rock bands and horror movie posters but besides his bed, on the make shift wooden desk was a pile of scratchy pencil drawings of broken hearts and fast cars. After managing to find a clear station he childishly kicked the door closed, causing some of the smaller magazine posters to fall off the wall and the ceiling, littering around his room.
Kyle sat beside his bed and pulled the backpack by the strap, down onto the floor in front of him. He flipped the top open and hauled the prized steal from its hiding place. On closer inspection the piece appeared to be an antique, kept in mint condition but on second thought, it wasn't weathered at all as if it had just been made. It was smooth to the touch as he ran his finger over it until he reached the red lines that made a dip as if they had been carved into grooves and the grooves had been painted carefully. Kyle shook the idol to see if anything were inside but it was to no avail; he then knocked on the back but it sounded like a solid piece of wood. He was hoping there'd be something more valuable inside like jewels or drugs but unfortunately not. Flipping the idol over he noticed an odd symbol taking up the whole base of the item, it wasn't part of the design as it was burnt into the wood as if someone had used a soldering iron. Kyle grabbed one of his doodles and a pencil as he began to shuffle onto his stomach. Amazed by his new finding, he scribbled it down quickly before comparing the two.
“Seems about right...” He claimed to himself as his eyes darted back and forth between the idol and the sketch.
Overtime Kyle became obsessed with the idol, sketching it, talking to it and even sleeping next to it until one day he took it way too far. The one morning Kyle was scratching around ferally in his drawers, overturning the papers and permanent markers until he found a black pastel crayon. He shot up unto his bed with the pastel poised between his lips like a cigarette as he desperately ripped away at the posters, tearing some of the corners and some in half. Satisfied, Kyle continued picking away at prestic as if he were picking at scabs, pulling ribbons of flaccid remaining paper with it. The prestic left small grey circular marks in some places and other places it managed to eat away at the wall, making his room appear even more decayed. He groaned and grunted like a sick animal as he wiped the wall down with his hands, spreading his arms in circles as his long sleeve shirt collected white particles. He ran his hand through his hair before beginning to draw along the wall in deep black pastel.
His arm went over his head as he dragged the crayon along the wall, the point degraded into the paper and still he didn't stop, he continued until the rest of the crayon ripped through the paper like a rhino through rice paper. Finally it dawned on Kyle that he should peel the paper off the crayon and he did whilst breathing heavily and continued to breathe shallow as he completed his almost perfect black ring. Kyle was swaying back and forth as if to contemplate his fate but unable to win against his demons, so in a feeble attempt he went to the drawer and grabbed two permanent markers and began filling the circle with lines and symbols until they ran dry. He threw them behind him carelessly before diving into the drawer again, grabbing a thick pencil and in pure desperation, finished the drawing.
Kyle stood back and marvelled at his creation, his feet sinking into the bed. He climbed off and grabbed hold of one of the bed posts, pulling it towards himself, pulling it further and further away from his wall, exposing his masterpiece. He stood motionless like a mad scientist, devoid of all reason, admiring his plagiarised work until something drew him in. He gave into the strong sensation without struggle as he reached out and placed his hand on the oversized symbol, stroking it with his palm, inadvertently smudging the pencil. Kyle glanced back at the idol as if to ask for its confirmation on his work only to lose his mind completely, something whispered to him, something that sounded like it was inside his head.
“What?” He said, placing his pencil stained hand on his face, spreading the lead.
The voice multiplied into many, whispering endlessly and calmly to no end when visions filled his head of strangers untimely fate up to this present day. Centuries of bloodshed filled Kyle's head as he tried to fight the premonitions off, thrashing his head in his hands from side to side like a burning man. His legs buckled under him as they folded up and he plummeted to the floor, still clutching his head.
“Don't make any sudden moves.” A voice hissed, its words overlapping each other.
Kyle finally lifted his head to reveal the Tiki sitting moments away from him.
“Wha- What do you want?” He stuttered.
“I want exactly what you want...Freedom.”
The voices were coming from behind him, from the wall, from the pentacle but the answers came from the wood carving. The smell of sulphur filled Kyle's nose when he heard hissing beside his ears like that of running sand. He jump forward kicking the Tiki across the room as he watched the pentacle suddenly set alight, igniting the lines as it burnt a hole into another dimension. The smoke blacked out his only tiny bedroom window when the drawings blew around the room in a small hurricane; the papers flapped as they passed him like startled birds until one slapped him across the face, causing a nasty paper cut. The blood raced down his face as he felt the warmth kiss his cheek, a single droplet lunged onto the head of the Tiki, finding its way into the grooves, somehow managing to be enough to fill all the red grooves with a thin layer of fresh blood.
Finally through the chaos, Kyle could see into the pentacle as if it were a window to somewhere else, someplace he could never imagine in his wildest of dreams. Slowly his hearing faded as he made his way up to the portal when he was