Nyla’s POV
I'm drawing a pentagram on my apartment floor with sidewalk chalk at midnight on a Tuesday because apparently this is what my life has come to.
There’s a leather-bound book open beside me, old, as if it survived the Victorian era. I found it at an estate sale last weekend, buried under a box of porcelain cats, which feels like the universe burying a loaded gun inside a Build-A-Bear.
It was quite an… interesting book. The chapter I keep returning to shows a naked woman arched on her back on the floor, with a demon-man-like being, with extra limbs, and an abnormally huge-sized c**k buried inside her p***y.
The first time I saw it, I shut it so fast. But then I opened it and stared for a full minute until my thighs pressed together.
The texts in the book aren’t written in Eng
