Tonight's the night the world *finally* fucking goes Charlie's way. He knows it won't be easy or simple; he fully expects the path he embarks on to be red with by blood by the time he reaches its end, but that's alright. He'd do anything to break the monotony of his rat-race day-to-day. Even give up his immortal soul. Charlie's in the basement of his house, knelt at the exterior edge of a painstakingly drawn pentragram. Tall candles loop around it, providing the only light in the room. I...