Disclaimer: In Real Life is a platform for everyday people to share their experiences and voices. All articles are personal stories and do not necessarily echo In Real Life’s sentiments.
If you believe in the supernatural, then you know that All Hallow’s Eve – Halloween – is the night when the veil separating our world from the supernatural is at its thinnest. People have said for years that this is the night to summon, talk, and receive a warming, or if you dare, make a literal deal with something.
Though unwilling to speak at first, Chelcy finally agreed to talk about her experience from almost a decade ago. She’s gone far and wide and spoken to several other so-called “experts” in the occult and demonic online and in person. They all say the same thing: She’s safe because she made no deal.
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Do you want to summon something?
My friends and I were young and dumb first-year university students. Shaqirah, Riodan, Christina, and I were close enough. We were watching some old horror movies a few weeks before Halloween when someone said it as a joke: Summon a demon and make a deal. We laughed and joked about it, and then, for some reason, we agreed to try. We went online, started “research,” and figured we’d do things on Halloween night.
It started as a joke.
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I think it started as a joke or a game of chicken to see how far we would go or dare to go. But we were young and, like I said, dumb. We gathered, drew our pentagram, placed the candles, put the Ouija in the centre, dripped a few drops of blood, and chanted something we copied off the internet.
The Night Itself
Nothing seemed to happen, at least at first. The lights didn’t flicker. Until there was a sudden gust of cold wind that blew through the room, so strong that it blew out the candles. The curtain of cold air moved around the room, and we started giggling: It was just the AC.
That made us foolish enough to try it “one last time for shits and giggles.” We sat around the ouija board and placed one hand to hold one edge of the board, each with a finger resting on the planchette (pointer).
Something Answered Us.
We chanted, whatever it was we’d gotten off the internet.
“That’s when we felt it.”
Still sitting in the wave of cold air from the A/C, something warm started under our hands. It was like the warmth of an open flame, but it got hotter.
Then, searing, unbearable pain. My fingertips were on fire, charred to cinder and ash. It hurt. Even though we all only hand a finger rest on the pointer, it moved against our will. I know I couldn’t remove my finger or let go of the board. I was trapped. We all were.
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Something had answered our ritual summoning.
“The pointer move, picking out letters that become words. It “spoke: “You summon me. You want. We trade. Exchange. Answer.”
Whatever was holding us released us, but my fingertips ached and throbbed, and they were blistered the next day. I was terrified out of my mind, and I just recoiled, getting as far away as I could from the board.
I ran away.
“I told my friends that this was crazy. I grabbed my things; told them I was OUT and ran for it. I could feel my three friends’ greed and the sense of avarice. I could also feel a hunger for something else that I still don’t.” Chelcy explained.
My friends made deals.
My friends told the spirit what they wanted, but none of them thought to ask what price they would pay to have their hearts’ desire. At first, I thought my refusal to answer meant nothing would or could happen. Four of us had summoned it, but only three answered. But in the ten years since that night, my friends got what they asked for but paid a heavy price for it.”
Once is happenstance.
Shaqirah wanted money and wealth. Her family was solidly “middle class”, and money would solve many problems. She got the money. Almost RM1 million, and property worth so much more. But these were inheritances.
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First from her beloved grandfather, from a heart attack during the family’s small Raya gathering in 2021. Then, barely a year later, her parents died due to an unfortunate car accident. Millions in the bank and property in exchange for the lives of the three people she loved the most.
Twice is a coincidence.
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Riordan wanted to be a great artist with unmatched painting, sculpture, or camera skills. Wish granted: His talent blossomed with any creative or artistic endeavour. He gained an intuitive understanding of artistic concepts and principles. He showed great talent and promise as a student.
Nothing has come of his work as a professional artist. His paintings, photos, and other art have yet to sell. His only exhibition was a total disaster. In the Malaysian art scene, he is a footnote at best. He toiled away for almost a decade, trying to create something that would propel him to great heights.
He gave up and committed suicide, dying in depressing obscurity. His most significant and recognized work is his tombstone, the last thing he crafted from stone with his hands.
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Thrice is enemy action.
Christina asked and received the gift of true love. Six months after she made her deal, she met her handsome, loving, and moderately successful boyfriend. They would date for about three years.
A car struck him, and he passed away with Christina by his bedside. Amongst his effects was a boxed engagement ring – he had been on his way to propose to her when he died.
They paid and continue to pay
“Maybe they all paid an individual price to get what they asked for, from a spirit no less. Maybe it’s all just a series of unfortunate events. Maybe I’m reading too much into a bit of teenage stupidity,” said Chelcy.
Her laugh does little to hide her nervousness or guilt.
“I mean, I suggested it all as a joke a decade ago. I never expected things to turn out like this.”
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