When the president of the Chi Chi Chi chapter died from a diarrhea disaster, their fraternity house fell under severe scrutiny. Even by other students. It can't be helped, and in the deepest of their guilty hearts, the eleven guys knew it. They broke eye contact with anyone and themselves.
The one to be the December wizard was now dead. By anal trauma. That meant one thing. The white-leather-jacket-wearing and Mustang-steering Chi Chi Chi jocks needed a replacement.
Then they found me.
It was on the ninth December night, my birthday, when rumors spread like fire at their bash. New guy. Transfer. And the fact that I was December born.
Before I could tell them my name, they gave me my white leather jacket and the key to my Mustang. They said not to worry. The dead guy wasn't wearing the jacket or using the Mustang when he died, completely soaked (eyes rolled up) in his blood and feces.
The eleven men were drunk, unaware that they said too much. I asked them how they knew for certain. Dodging eye contact, wiping their mouths on sleeves. They admitted they found him in the cellar and called the police themselves.
I asked them what caused it.
The shortest one, the one to be the January wizard, looked at me in the eyes and never looked away. His eyes were black, wet, and wavering. "You must never tell a soul."
I shivered and crossed my heart.
"Hypothesis: magic is real, but is too powerful to wield for long."
That gave me pause, I have to admit. How that related to disembowelment, I put two and two together. I thought about it, mumbling, "I guess it makes sense if magic was ... transient."
The redhead said as quiet as crinkling foil, "We're about to be wizards. One for each month. He's January, our new president, I'm February. That's March."
He pointed behind me to a blond swimmer who waved politely. "Sup," March said and drank more beer. April was the football quarterback who scratched his wooly beard and growled "Heyyy..." May was a giant basketball gladiator who took and shook my hand with two big hands that could snap my neck; his brown doe eyes, which was charming, blinked too much. He said nothing at all. I kept an open mind though, unable to imagine what they went through.
June ignored me, listening to his headphones and gazing at his phone. He hid his face under his hoodie. July was the fat guy who snoozed on the couch, but he could be faking. I didn't know for sure. August was the bony guy who crossed his legs whenever someone said something displeasing. September stood by the roaring fireplace, shirtless under his white leather jacket. He was heavily tattooed and could be a Harley rider. Resting his head upon his hand upon the mantle, and side-eyeing me curiously.
"And the October wizard," January pointed to the bald guy on the floor who was nose pierced and laughed now and then at nothing in particular. The eleventh guy checked his luxe wristwatch, which everyone assumed was November, asked me point blank: "Well?"
"Well, what?"
"You want to be December or not?"
"To be a witch for a month?"
"If we go through with this tonight, it doesn't happen fast. The pact won't start working until January. You'll have to wait a year."
When I said yes, they ended the bash early and kicked the guests out. They locked the doors and closed the curtains. In the grand foyer, with marble columns and crystal chandeliers, I helped them roll up an enormous rug. On the floor, there was a chalked pentagram circle just as large. It started to look satanic but I kept my cool.
"This was where the old December wizard died," January explained. "He got too greedy. Wanted all twelve powers to himself. His bowels couldn't take it."
"I see," was all I could say.
"We moved his body," February explained. "Onto the rug. It looked really bad."
"Enough," said January, the new president of the Chi Chi Chi. He brought a thick grimoire and flipped through its fine gilded pages and golden scrawled ink. "We begin."
Each signed with their birth month, and my signature, my month December, sealed the deal. As expected, nothing seemed to happen. January said it would take a month's wait and by New Year's, he will have magic bursting from his fingertips. I had my doubts until the pages shone.
The fireplace snuffed out. The room went total dark. The men whispered. The fire erupted, but blue. A ghost, if you could believe it, walked through the wall, wailing. The worst unforgettable thing I ever saw in my life. A twisted man they knew. His eyes were shocked open, his mouth agape open with horror. This was his fate, and he didn't want it. He saw me. A glint of anger crossed his rotting skull. Rage at being replaced.
The old December wizard shouted startling us, "That's not fair! That's not fair! Not fair!"
The blue flames exploded through his spectral body. It set some other things on fire, sending us flying towards them to put them out. By the time we saved the fraternity house, we realized the ghost had vanished like brewing smoke.
"You think he's gone?" I asked.
January took a sharp breath, "This is going to be a long month."
TO BE CONTINUED
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