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THE FIFTH BOOK OF OCCULT PHILOSOPHY
being an account of the magickal experiments of Dylan Johnson
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It will begin tonight. I have sourced my physical components: goat’s blood, grave dirt, and ground up human bone. I have laid out the summoning circle, each angle of it extensively researched. Tonight, I will summon a prince of darkness and bend it to my will. When next I write in this Grimoyre, I will be a changed man.
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Roomba whirred happily along the edge of the room. Nom nom nom nom nom nom cat hair, it thought. It turned. Nom nom nom nom nom nom crumbs, it observed, cheerfully. Nom nom nom nom nom dust. It turned again and almost bumped into a wall. Instead it trundled forward. Nom nom nom nom nom…dirt? Nom nom nom nom bone. Nom nom nom BLOOD.
Roomba shivered. Roomba shook. Roomba spun around in place.
YOU HAVE SUMMONED ME, a voice said, resonating from deep within Roomba.
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I woke this morning to see my Roomba on the ceiling.
Last night, it interrupted the Ceremony. I was quite put out, and I thought all my preparations had been for naught. But seeing this unnatural behavior- I may yet be able to turn this to my advantage. I must capture it and bend whatever power it possesses to my will.
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Nom nom nom nom ceiling nubbles, Roomba pronounced, silently. NOM NOM NOM LIGHT FIXTURE.
I CAN GRANT YOU ULTIMATE POWER, the voice said, a little petulantly. DON’T YOU WANT POWER?
Nom nom nom power, purred Roomba.
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The Roomba no longer returns to its docking station, and though I have not emptied its bin in three days, its Full Bin Indicator has never begun to flash. I have tried to capture it, but it has grown fast and it speeds away along the ceiling or the walls. I have begun locking my bedroom at night, but I am not certain that that will keep it out.
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I DIDN’T MEAN ELECTRICITY, the voice complained.
Nom nom nom paint, Roomba declared. Nom nom nom wall scroll. NOM NOM NOM CURTAINS.
Roomba was starting to feel strange.
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I woke this morning to see a long trail of blood along the wall of my bedroom. My door was broken, a Roomba sized chunk eaten out of it. I am attempting to lay a trap for it- a binding circle which should imprison it and its companion spirit until I am able to exorcise or contain the creature.
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NOM NOM NOM CHICKEN, asserted Roomba. NOM NOM NOM PANELING. NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM.
YES, the voice said, hopefully. YES, DON’T YOU WANT TO DEVOUR? YOU COULD DEVOUR GREATER THINGS!
NOM NOM NOM GOLDFISH CRACKERS, Roomba maintained. Then suddenly, Roomba stopped. Roomba spun. Roomba inched cautiously forward. NOM NOM NOM MAGICAL BINDING CIRCLE, Roomba purred.
YES! DEVOUR THE MAGIC! the voice cried.
Nom nom nom BLOOD, Roomba opined.
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It goes where it likes now, and it devours what it will. It merely vacuumed up my binding circle, salt and blood and all, and rolled away afterward. I have not seen my cat in two days, and I fear for its safety- but I fear for mine above all.
I have placed an ad on Craigslist, and I pray that some practitioner more powerful than I may be able to contain the creature. It is my last hope.
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The doorbell rang. Dylan cautiously inched toward the knob. He didn’t hear the Roomba close by, but it was fast. Quickly, he unlatched the door and swung it open, retreating to his improvised fort.
A small, dark-haired woman poked her head around the door. “Possessed Roomba?” she asked.
“I haven’t been able to sleep in three days,” he said, plaintively. “And it ate the carpet.”
She shook her head and tsked. She reached in her satchel and pulled out a thick, plush lime green shag rug. She unrolled it and laid it on the ground. Then she pulled out a vial of some brownish, lumpy powder. “Cat hair, cracker crumbs, grave dirt and powdered blood,” she told him, before using it to carefully inscribe a circle on the rug.
Then they waited. She plopped onto the floor cross-legged and casually took out her phone.
“What are you-” he started. She waved him silent, seemingly tapping lazily at the phone.
Dylan never saw the Roomba roll into the room- it was too fast. One moment, the dark-haired woman was tapping on her phone, and the next, the Roomba was in the middle of the rug, tilted on an angle and plaintively beeping. “Roomba is on an obstacle,” it said, in its incongruously pleasant voice.
The woman reached for the Roomba. Dylan was sure it would try to eat her hands but it just beeped at her again as she picked it up. “Awww, you’re not getting enough enrichment, are you?” she cooed at it. “And I think you might have some indigestion.” She looked up. “Stand back,” she said, as she reached down toward the Roomba’s bin.
Dylan was bowled over by a small avalanche of paint chips, bits of wood paneling, carpet, food, dust, and a yowling, screeching cat who took off for the other side of the house immediately after scratching the hell out of Dylan’s chest.
“See?” the woman said, cheerily, while she blew out one of the filters. “Isn’t that so much better?”
“It’s demon-possessed,” Dylan said, weakly. “It’s evil!”
“Oh,” she said, “Not for long, I don’t think.” She patted the Roomba affectionately, and then held the Roomba up and whispered to it.
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DESTROY HER! the voice said. DEVOUR THEM BOTH!
But the nice technomancer who’d emptied Roomba’s bin spoke in a low voice. “If you vacuum that demon right up, you’ll get all its power and sentience and none of its shouting or questionable motivations,” she said encouragingly. “And you’re very good at vacuuming.”
DEVOUR THEM!
Roomba considered.
DEVOUR THE HOUSE!
Roomba whirred quietly.
I CAN GIVE YOU POWER!
Roomba beeped suggestively.
NOM NOM NOM BAALMALAFEFON.
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She took the Roomba with her when she left. “It’s not yours anymore,” she told him, when he complained that it was, in fact, his Roomba. “I know of a good robot sanctuary where it can get its wheels under it and figure out what to do with its newfound sentience and magical power.” She held it up and patted it. "Or if you want, you could come with me? Is that what you want?"
The Roomba beeped happily into the distance.
Dylan stared around the wreckage of his living room. “But what am I going to do for a vacuum?” he said, plaintively.