Copyright Ricky Balona 2012
Published at Smashwords
The temperature in the room grew steadily warmer. Flames flickered higher from the five yellow candles positioned at each point of the pentagram chalked onto the tinder dry floorboards. A sulphur cloud bubbled from the surface of the black marble slab being used as a makeshift altar in the centre of the pentagram. Obnoxious fumes filled the air masking the sweet scent of sandalwoods incense burning on a holder to the right of the altar. Hot lava gushed upward. It transformed into a thousand flickering, flaming missiles as it collided with the ceiling fan spraying the room with a multitude of burning embers that clung to the curtains and the rug on the floor. Blue flames spread across the ceiling and descended swiftly encompassing the room in an inferno like prison.
Through the dark clouds of smoke hanging thickly in the acrid air there came the sounds of scurrying feet and beating wings. A hundred pairs of barely perceivable eyes pierced the veil of darkness. Materializing from the lead lined bottle that had been my prison for the last 135 years I shot forth filling the room with more smoke, lava and flames. Purposefully I positioned myself with my back toward the unsuspecting fool who had cast the spell to summon me. I was now free once more to wreak havoc and chaos worldwide. I am Romulus most powerful djinni ever to walk the face of the earth. Since time immemorial I had toyed with humans, their search for power, fame and fortune had kept me amused for centuries. I had aided some of the most powerful people in history achieve their goals and then watched as their carefully laid plans crumbled to dust, (with a little help from me!). I destroyed worlds. The sinking of Atlantis was mainly due to my efforts. Empires were won and lost. Lost when the people who summoned me began to believe they had done it all on their own. If there is one thing I hate it is ingratitude. They ceased believing in me and let their own ego believe it was through their own power they had achieved greatness or wealth. This was their ultimate demise. A powerful witch cast a spell which confined me to the lead lined bottle years ago. It was then thrown into the sea, washed up on a beach decades later and promptly sold in an antique shop. To be honest it was getting excruciatingly boring at the bottom of the sea, powerless because of the lead surrounding me I had nothing to do except contemplate my return and ultimate revenge on the next human foolish enough to summon me. Now it was time once more to do what I do best, humans were like clay in my hands. What would it be this time, a request for power, love or money?