The fluorescent lights of the school nurse's office hummed, a familiar, irritating sound that seemed to mock my every word. "Has any of my name, Thomas or Destiny, been cursed?" I asked, leaning forward, the desperation clear in my voice.

He chuckled, a gruff, dismissive sound. "I get, I get it little dude. You've gotten friends from another world because you always contact through the book your read in the library and they came for you to join them then you refuse, you'll better make negotiate with them." My brows furrowed, the words echoing the very 'delusions' everyone dismissed. Yet, his tone hinted at something more. Was he mocking me, or did he know something?

Later, hurrying home, the Voodoo man from across the street caught my eye. "You have forgotten your book," he said, his voice strangely knowing. And he was right. The Black Cults. The book that started it all. That night, as the Halloween moon rose full and bright, a yellowish light pulsed from its pages, growing, swirling, until it became a portal. And from it, they emerged. Salazar, Sorcerer, and Jack. The Black Cults.