i am posting this for the sake of crticism

We sat in a circle, clinging to each other's hands. I drew short breaths. My mind fluttered with thoughts and misgivings. I was also filled with skepticism and the idea that the seance was utterly silly. I am given brief instructions to kill the medium if things get out of hand via a short knife covered in, what looked like, a coat of oil.

One of the assistants dimmed the lights. I couldn't imagine why this was necessary but I complied. "This may take quite some time" the medium informed me. I wasn't exactly grateful to hear this news. A part of me just wanted to get it over with.

My neighbor squeezed my hand as the woman began chanting. Her words were beautiful, though I couldn't understand them. The language she spoke was quite odd. It was a wistful and forelorned dialogue. I thought I may want to learn the language given the chance. The chant continued. And on and on it could be heard like an echo. . . .

It had been maybe ten minutes when the lights began to brighten. I glanced at the light switch and saw that niether the assistant nor the light dial were moving. I was now, despite my better judgment, quite immersed in the belief that this was all real. My eyes darted to the four other members of the circle, all of whom were mouthing the chant with the medium. Before I new the lights were blinding. They were so bright I couldn't stand it.

The bulbs burst. The sparks settled and the only thing left was the shifting of my partners, the quickenning chant, and the now tight grips of my adjacent enthusiasts. I was most frightened by the fact that the medium seemed unnaffected by these obviously supernatural events.

The chanting ended. The voice was cut short as if a tape had been paused. The grip was now a painful grasp. Light appeared. An ambient light whose source I could not see. The medium was erect and still, with eyes closed. The assistants looked downward. I gazed at the calm face and thought of what horrors were swimming in that head of hers.

The eye lids slowly moved up at an alarmingly costant rate. I looked into the eyes of a demon. THE demon. The eyes stared into mine. I could think of nothing but the terror which rested on top of me. The grasps released but my hands did not move.

"I find it comforting that this wretched practice is slowly being forgotten" it spoke with the voice of one thousand toads. "Such an untidy and gruesome act you have commited."

to be continued