I looked down at the crumpled piece of paper full of untidy creases and folds.

"This must be it," I muttered to myself. 

As I stood, gazing at the dilapidated house surrounded by dead trees and withered plants. I shivered, as though, ice had replaced my entire spine. The cold air enveloped the entire body. The multiple layers of clothing could not protect against the deathly cold. The walkway leading up to the mysterious, gloomy and lonely house was cracked. Vines formed a twisted maze upon the side of the house, reaching their tentacles towards the roof. The house's walls showed black decay by neglect. Splotches of original paint hinted at the house's former prosperity. The door and windows were decorated with weird and ominous ornaments. Cobwebs covered the corners of the doors, tiny black spiders threading towards their prey. The house is definitely fit for a shaman.

I gave three resounding knocks on the door and waited. The house was dead silent except for the intermittent creaks and moans of the floor as I paced myself around the old porch. I would have tried to peer into the windows but it was dirty and dark, and filled with shadows that play tricks on my eyes.

I hate to admit it, but this place was really starting to get to me. I glanced down at my cellphone for the tenth million times and noted the time - 11:45 pm. Have I been searching for the place for so long? My gut churned with uneasiness at the thought that it is hitting midnight. Nervously I looked at the overgrown yard behind me and had this weird expectation that I would see a spirit. 

Violently I shivered and knocked impatiently on the door again. I'd give the shaman ten more seconds to open the door or I'd be out of here. I watched the door, counting down the seconds inside my heart, and quietly urged, "Come on open the door."

Ten seconds passed and there is still nobody to open the door. My heart sank that my only hope had failed me. Yet I was also delighted that I do not have to spend another second here. I quickly my heels and took a couple of paces towards the yard. 

"I will just visit again in the morning," I said quietly.

Then, the door begrudgingly creaked open. 

My breath hitched and like any character would react in a horror movie, I slowly turn my head around. The door was slightly ajar and I squint my eyes to make out if there is anyone standing by it but there was no one. Cautiously I walked slowly forward it. A musty, dank odor from the small opening creeps into my nose. Doing everything I can to ignore the strong sensation of the smell I push open the door wider and quietly entered the dark living room.

Windows covered with grime and dirt, the calm moonlight struggled to penetrate the darkness in thin thread rays. Sharp shadows roamed around the room. 

"Hello?" I call out as I scan the surrounding. Wallpaper lay curled on the floor. Strange markings and symbols scattered around the molded walls. A large jugged hole was dug through the wall as though daring anyone to enter. Pictures frames hung off-centered. I went closer to take a closer look at the pictures when a calm woman's voice emerged behind me. 

"What is a young girl like you doing here?" 

I yelped and quickly turn around. The moonlight that casts a pool of light from the door that stretches a few meters in radius allows me to see her clearly. I was half expecting that it would be a woman in her late seventies to early eighties but I was surprised that she looked like she is in her twenties. I am confident in my knowledge of shamanism to know that they are usually dressed in bright-colored robes but her dress was hauntingly dull and dark. Something about her eyes and the cold stare she gave me sent chills down my spine as well.

"I-I am here to seek your spiritual assistance," I said. 

She raised her eyebrow, "What is your name, young girl?" 

"P-Park Soojin. I heard that-" 

"Your mother is on the brink of death which is why you sought me out." she said. Flabbergasted, I opened my mouth only to find that I couldn't get any words out. People told me that she could read minds. I guess these rumors about her weren't a hoax.

As we exchanged our glances I get the gut feeling that something about her entire being felt old and ancient and that she was not as young as she looked.

"I can help you out on your situation," she said drawing closer to me. "But I have to warn you child, this kind of magic you are seeking requires a big sacrifice." 

She leaned her face close and I instinctively took a step back. 

"Are you certain you are up for such consequence?" she challenged. 

I gulped and was beginning to contemplate my decision when images of my mother started surfacing in my head. Her frailed and petite frame as she lay on the bed in the hospital. 

When cancer took my mom she was skin and bones, pale as a ghost, face masking the ordeal inside. I remembered vividly the times she screamed in pain and there was no doubting the agony. It made my heart wrench. 

When the doctor informed me that her body can no longer sustain further treatments and to be prepared for the worse I was hopeless. I wasn't ready to let my one and only family go. Just when I am at my wit's ends the rumors of an infamous shaman who had the ability to enchant and revive a dying person came to me. 

So here I am standing in front of the infamous shaman, about to make the biggest decision of my life. If science could not help my mother this could be my only shot. 

"Yes," I said with no hesitation. 

She look at me with amused, a soft smile ghosting her lips. "Very well then come along."

We started moving down the hallway towards a door at the end of it. A shimmer of light came from behind the door. The main door behind us slowly creaked and shut itself and I started to wonder if it was her doing. 

"Do you live alone in this place?" I asked.

"Not exactly. This is one of my many homes. But this is my favorite." 

"What do you mean by 'many homes'?" 

"Let's just say that what I do wasn't exactly glamorous and righteous. I had to shift intermittently to prevent the people from getting to me."

"Oh uhm okay...You were saying that this house is your favorite. Why?"

We reached the end of the hallway and stopped outside the room. She turned around and lift up her hands. "Don't you feel the energy around this place? It is the perfect location to channel spiritual powers."

She pushed open the door and stepped inside the room and I follow suit. The room was lit by black candles all around the corners. An altar stood in the middle with portraits hung over it.  As I stood gazing at the portraits I realized something wasn't right. Shamans would usually hang bright portraits of the god they served over their altars in their personal shrines. 

These portraits were not bright and neither do they seem to have an image of gods on them. I inched closer to the portrait to have a better look and fear washes me that I was right and that all of them weren't portraits of gods. It was portraits of demons and devils.

It finally dawns on me. The dilapidated house with huge negative energy. Her black and dull shaman robes. Those black candles and the demonic portraits. I whisked around and looked at her as she was forming a huge ritual circle in the middle of the room using black candles.

"You are a devil worshipper," I whispered. 

She lifts up her gaze and looks at me whilst continuing to form the circle. 

"To live and to die is a natural process. We should never meddle with it. It is a universal rule. The gods will never lend their powers to bring someone back from the dead," she said as she lit up the last candle. 

She stepped over the candles and make her way into the middle of the circle and reaches out her hand beckoning for me to take it and join her in the circle. I feel from her gaze that she was challenging me. If I am able to keep to the end of my deal or run away like a fool. I could sense that she was betting on the latter.

With my resolve hardening. I stepped into the circle and grabbed her hand. She looked down at my fingers that were wrapped tightly around her hand and laughed. 

"You've got guts child. I give you that."

She removed her hands from me and sat down. 

"You reminded me of a young girl who came to me with the same look of determination you wears on your face right now." 

"She wanted to bring back a loved one?" I asked and sat down facing her. 

"No. She wanted to bring herself back."

"What?" 

"She was the one that was dying."

"Oh. Did she survive?" 

"I held great pride with what I do child. Although I am not sure where she could be right now," she said with mischief twinkling in her eyes as if there was a hidden meaning that she did not plan to let me in on. 

She began placing a small knife and a bowl in the space between us. I eyed the knife and pointed at it. 

"What is the knife for?"

"In order for the ritual to take place, I need blood offerings from you."

I let out a small gasp and push myself a little backward. 

"Is it really necessary?" 

"You are the one with the desire to bring your mother back. It has to be your blood for me to make the connection with Him."

"How much blood are we talking about?"

"Just a few drops," she said with annoyance laced in her tone and then open up her hand.

"Give me your palm."

My eyes flickered from her hand to her face a few times and warily reaches out my palm and place it on top of her. She tugged my hand a little closer to the bowl and immediately I felt a small tinged of pain as I feel the cold metallic edge of the knife cut a small opening on my finger. 

She began turning my finger downwards facing the bowl and let a few droplets of my blood fill the bowl. She let go out of my finger and I quickly pull it to my mouth and began on the open wound. 

"So how does this work?" I asked in a muffled voice with my finger still on my lips. 

"I will need to recite a chant that would allow me to make a connection with Him and I will then offer your blood. If your blood is accepted by Him. The ritual is complete and your mother lives."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Ready to begin the ritual. 

"Wait for a second," I interject. She opened one of her eyes and looked at me.

"Who is the 'Him' you were talking about?" 

She raised her eyebrow and did not say anything. Waiting for me to realize the answer to my own question. After a few seconds, I finally understood. 

"Oh right. The 'Devil'," I said that word almost so nonchalantly. 

Shaking her head she closed her eyes again and began chanting in a language I could not decipher. The language felt ancient. After a few sentences, her body started trembling and I could hear the sound of her voice growing darker. Her voice became almost unrecognizable as if she was growling. I wished it was just the bad ambiance that was enhancing my sense of fear and paranoia but I could almost sense dark negative energy from that language. It felt as though she was speaking the language of the damned.

A strong gust of wind suddenly invaded the room, slamming the door wide open. The wind blew relics off the altar as well as the portraits from their position on the wall and it began swirling and twirling around the room in a chaotic mess. And I was surprised to see that the candles that formed the circle around us were still burning brightly whereas the rest in all corners of the room already had their flames extinguished. I stared into the hallway that was enveloped in darkness and prayed that I do not see a pair of red glowing eyes.

I glanced nervously from the hallway to the shaman and repeat it a couple of times quietly urging her in my heart to complete the ritual.

The pressure of the wind is starting to get stronger and violently closing in on us. 

Waves of nausea rose up and began pounding against my stomach. My head began to fire a million worse-case scenarios into my mind's eye which made me feel sicker and sicker. I feel like I am going to pass out.

Just then the shaman's eyes snapped open and the strong chaotic wind stopped the instant her eyes opened. Objects and portraits fell to the floor with a loud thud. I watched as the shaman regain her composure and she gave me a look of great satisfaction. She smiled. 

"The ritual is complete. He accepted your blood."

"I-"

All of a sudden the small puddle of blood in the bowl started to burst into flames. The flames cackle and roar fiercely and I watched as the blazing fire evaporates my blood. I hiss in pain as I felt my skin being scorched although I was a few feet away from the flame. It is unsettling how such a small flame could emit such intense heat. I had never felt this kind of sensation and pain from a fire heat in the past and a scary thought flickered across my mind that the flame could possibly be fire from the pits of Hell.

I watched as the flame grew smaller and smaller. And just when I thought the worse is over the flame exploded again and smoke engulfed the room. At first, the smoke was semi-transparent to the point I could still make out the silhouette of the shaman, but as I stood up the nature of the smoke changed. It grew thicker and darker, enveloping the entire room in solid grey and black. 

"Oh, ," I muttered as the smoke swallowed me. 

I could now barely see anything. 

"Err...Miss...Shaman, can you hear me?" I called out and there was no answer. Just what in the world is going on right now? Terror was slowly paralyzing my body, freezing my muscles as my paranoia grew stronger. My head was now spinning and my knees gave out and I dropped to the floor. 

I closed my eyes and try to pray for the smoke to go away. I counted in my heart to twenty seconds and open my eyes and lift my head up. My stomach dropped. Even in the thick smoke, I could make out a dark silhouette coming toward me. The temperature around me sharply fell and all the hairs on the back of my neck started to stand on end.

The shadowy figure was drawing nearer.

Hopelessly I stay rigid in my position, numbed with cold and terror. I watched the figure emerge through the smoke as he looked down at me. The mysterious man standing in front of me towered well over six feet and his broad muscular shoulder and an athletic figure dressed charmingly in a black suit.

I watched with my breath caught in my throat as he started to lower himself down to the ground. Our eyes met and I was immediately drawn by his beautiful brown eyes. Those eyes were hauntingly mesmerizing. Engulfed in a cloud of smoke together with a mysterious man that could possibly kill me but all I could think about was how good he look.

My heart skipped faster the more I looked at him. Everything about him was perfect but the aura around him was so dark it terrified me. He had strong features and his face was so beautifully sculptured. He was beyond perfection. No normal human being could have been blessed like that. 

Unless...he isn't human.

Waves of panic began to crush into me and my body was momentarily revived with a rush of adrenaline. I break eye contact and started to back away from this mysterious entity. 

The shaman said that there was a price to pay. Does she mean that my soul will be claimed by this demon and I will be subjected to eternal slavery and torture by him? 

"A-Are you the demon here to take my soul?"

He lets out a soft chuckle and his eyes twinkle with wonders. That sound that came out of his mouth was so melodic and captivating.

"Do not be scared of me. I am not going to kill you."

He reached out his hand and took mine tenderly and slowly brought me to my feet. "You are so beautiful." He said and reaches his other hand to tug a lock of my hair behind my ears. My mouth opened slightly in amazement. Unlike my visions and imaginations of the devil with horns and bat-like wings with a grotesque-looking demonic face, he looked like real flesh and blood.

And although swirling with dangerous dark auras, I felt tenderness and warmth as he held my hand. 

"You have no idea how long I have been waiting for this day, for you," he said as he pulled me a little closer to him.

I blinked. What did he mean by that? Didn't we just meet a couple of minutes ago?

I felt his grip on my hand tighten a little and feeling afraid I began to pull away. Gently the mysterious attractive man caught my chin and lifted my face upwards. 

"What I am going to do now is going to hurt a little. So I just need you to look into my eyes, can you do that?"

My mind was yelling at me to say no and pull myself away, yet I chose what my heart desires to forever remain in the presence of those eyes. I give him a small nod and his lips tugged upward as he gives me the most attractive smile I have ever seen. He moves his hand from my chin to my cheek and caresses it tenderly and softly.

I was slowly losing myself in his captivating brown orbs when I felt a hot and burning sensation on my wrist. I jolt with pain and look down to see a bright glowing amber emitting from his palm that was touching my wrist. He was burning me.

As I focus on the pain it became more unbearable and I let out a few cries of pain. Then I feel his hand on my cheek again. "Look at me if you are scared," he said softly to me and redirect my attention back to his eyes.

"It will be over soon, and after that you are mine and I'll be yours forever," he said.

I opened my mouth to ask what do he mean but pain exploded on my wrist as I felt the intensity of the burning become stronger almost as if my hand was melting away. 

I let out a strangled scream and shut my eyes. Suddenly I felt that his grip on my wrist loosened and the burning pain was gone. I open my eyes with a gasp of air and to my surprise, I found that the thick cloud of smoke had disappeared and I am back in the shaman's personal shrine. 

I looked around frantically trying to register what the just happened when I saw the shaman at her altar making her offerings. 

"What the just happened? What happened to the smoke? And who was that man?" I began to bombard.

The shaman turned around and raised her eyebrow in confusion but I saw a small smirk ghosting her lips. She was definitely feigning her confusion and there is definitely something wrong but I am not going to stay here any longer and question her.

I looked around for my belongings and as soon as I found them I picked them up and scramble for the door. I was running down the hallway and to the main door. I twist the doorknob and was eager to get out when the shaman spoke behind me. 

"You don't have to worry about anything. Your mother will live." 

I turn around to see her hands behind her back casually strolling down the hallway. I give a small nod of gratitude and turn around to open the door.

"I guess our fate ends here," she said again. I turn around and see that she was already mere inches from me. She leaned her head in closing the gap between our faces and once again I see the same smirk flash across her face. 

"I wish you well, your Highness."

Highness? What does that even mean? I don't know what is going on and I simply don't want to know. The night has been crazy and my heart is not ready to be taken on another rollercoaster ride. So I decided that I am not going to ask her anything and ran out of the house. 

I made it past her yard and ran further down the road when something occurs to me. The burnt on my wrist. I looked down at my wrist and saw that there was no burnt mark on it.

Could it be my imagination? I thought to myself. I bring my wrist closer to my face and twist and turn. Under the moonlight that illuminates the street, I thought I saw something on my wrist. I am not even sure if it makes sense or if I am in the right state of mind but I swear I saw a weird-looking symbol flashed on my wrist before disappearing.

I stared at my wrist for a little longer and nothing happened. I am definitely out of my mind. 

Shaking the thoughts I picked up my pace and walk but not before that curiosity piques and I decided to look back at the house only to see that whisky tendrils of white mist started to creep around the house. The mist gathered around the house and within a second the house was completely swallowed by the mist in a solid white.

It simply vanished.