Dear Dr. Eldritch,
Some friends and I found this ancient book of really ornate pictures hidden in an old, abandoned plantation house way out in a swamp. Each page of the book has one large picture with a bunch of little ones around it. The large pictures tell the story of some people who summon a demon. He grants their wishes, but at the next full moon, they’re all killed in horrible ways. If you look closely, the images around the main pictures are a puzzle. Deciphering the clues reveals how to summon the demon. We did the invocation at the last full moon, and the demon appeared. I wished for a really great party house on the beach, and it’s so cool! But that was three weeks ago, and I’m afraid we’re going to get killed when the moon is full. What can we do to stop it?

-- DeWayne in Southern Florida

Dear DeWayne,
What the hell were you thinking? If you saw a sign that read “Be eaten by a crocodile, ONLY $5!” would you pull out your wallet? It would be one thing if you missed the details in the fine print, but you knew! And you did it anyway! So, Toast-For-Brains, trading your entire future for a month-long party is a good idea? Hardly a case for keeping you alive.

Sorry, I know this is a difficult time for you, and you wanted advice, not a lecture. It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t regularly receive letters from people who have done something stupid or criminal, and expect me to get them out of it. Well, all of you who earned millions as CEO for bankrupting a multi-billion dollar corporation, engaged in what 99.9999% of the world defines as “sexual acts” with an intern in the Oval Office, or like you, DeWayne, made a deal with dark forces, you don’t get out of the consequences by saying “Oh, sorry! Mistakes were made!” (Do you people really think you’d never get caught? Inconceivable!)

With that said, let’s look at your situation. Statistically speaking, you’re hosed. I will do my best to keep you alive nonetheless, but you’ve meddled with forces whose only pleasure is to rend the souls of venal humans. Forgive me while I get all pedantic on your posterior, since education is part of my job, what follows is mostly for those readers whose expected lifespans are greater than one week.

Temptation is the yummy, cream-filled core of the evil pastry that is the Dark Powers. The potential victim is tantalized by the promise of money, power, or hot sex. Most forget that these eldritch powers are a morality play, where yielding to temptation carries a swift and terrible punishment. Those who rise above temptation, live. Those who can’t, get rent. Yes, it is annoyingly self-righteous, but that’s the way eldritch powers are. Everything is black and white with them. Those without sin are promised a rewarding afterlife. Sinners are punished, here and hereafter. One might argue that Eternal Suffering is an excessive price for a little human weakness, but I neither make the rules nor enforce them.

The only light at the end of the tunnel (sorry, an unfortunate metaphor at this point), is the escape clause. Yes, there is a way to break the contract, close the door on the demon, and live through this debacle. The ancient powers require giving the almost-damned a tiny scrap of hope. Usually, this feeling of hope makes the failure to invoke the escape clause properly much more devastating, but if you’re clever (must...not…make …snide comment…), it can work to your advantage. Go back to your book. Since your summoning spell was a puzzle, look for an even more obscure puzzle for the antidote. Devote your remaining time to finding it. It will be very well hidden, perhaps in the cover, edges of the pages, only viewed by candle light, whatever. Your life depends on finding the answer.

Once you’ve figured it out, you may have to do something drastic to be released from your doom. If you’re lucky, you’ll just have to beat the demon at a game of riddles, and not have to make a sacrifice to satisfy him. You might think the sacrifice is easier, especially if you’re bad at riddles, but we’re not talking about slaying a random goat. “Sacrifice” traditionally means “giving up something near and dear to you,” and it’s usually a life-for-a-life arrangement. Not even a farm animal that you’re rather fond of will do, if you know what I mean. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.

I also hope you survive and learn from this. Virtue may not seem that great as its own reward, but it keeps you from being torn asunder and condemned to fiery torment. This seems a reasonable trade-off to me.

And one final thing – Destroy the book! It’s just a moralistic booby-trap for the easily tempted, and you’ll be doing a huge favor to potential victims with more free time than sense.

If I don't hear from you in a week, good luck, and let me know how it comes out (in this world, or the next)!

-- Dr. Eldritch