A Place I Never Wanted To Be

Amidst the dimly lit corridors of my youth, a labyrinth where innocence intertwined with insatiable curiosity, an unexpected guide beckoned me toward an uncharted path. At a tender age of fourteen, ensconced within the protective cocoon of my parents' abode, a fateful encounter awaited. A friend, an enigmatic boy whose devotion lay within the solemn chambers of a Roman Catholic altar, stood at the crossroads of our destinies.
His clandestine ventures into the sanctum of his "father's" sacred chamber yielded an enigmatic tome, its secrets bound in leather, bestowed upon me with a cryptic smile. As the weight of my moral compass wrestled with the allure of the arcane, I embarked on an odyssey through the forbidden pages of this enigmatic text. Words, inked in ancient script, danced before my eyes, a macabre ballet of spells, hexes, and curses, each beckoning me further into their intoxicating embrace.
It was as if I stood on the precipice of a precipitous chasm, torn between my newfound knowledge and the yearning for spiritual purity. Yet, the congregation that frequented the chapel, a silent chorus of enigmatic souls, remained nameless in their solemn reverence, a testament to the delicate balance upon which I teetered. The shadows cast by flickering candles whispered their secrets, and I, a mere mortal, listened intently, drawn into the very heart of darkness that lurked within the pages before me. My enigmatic companion, a reluctant acolyte of malevolence, inadvertently bestowed upon me a tome that would irrevocably reshape the contours of my existence.
With every turn of the parchment, I descended further into a labyrinth of arcane knowledge, my senses entwined with the intoxicating allure of sorcery and satanism. The tendrils of damnation wove themselves insidiously into my consciousness, a sinister serenade that ensnared my very essence. As my journey spiraled into uncharted depths, I was ensnared by a moral quandary, a tempest of conflicting emotions that raged within my heart.
The very fabric of my soul tore asunder, torn between the yearning for power that whispered promises of supremacy and the resounding echo of guilt that reverberated with every incantation. It was a place I thought I'd never be, an intricate web of desire and despair that held me captive, ensnared in the embrace of a darkness I had unwittingly courted. The book reacted with congruence, summoning, and drawing of pentagrams and hexagrams, it had pictures of how to do what, and how it was supposed to look, and detailed instructions, I followed them to the letter, and got the results they said I would get. I then started memorizing spells and incantations so that I could whisper them anywhere anytime I needed them.  After all of this, my first summoning, mind you, I was backsliding, but I was still so-called, preaching, while secretly working on the enemy's payroll.
And no one suspected a thing about my double dealings until...