Witchcraft 101: The Third Eye

  Arthur fumbled for his phone, swiping, until the familiar chime of the Witchcraft 101 app finally sounded. “Voice search,” he mumbled, his brow furrowing as he tried to tap on the microphone icon. He heard the beep and began, “How to… uh… how to fix, like, blindness, with really old magic? The kind that doesn’t involve eye surgery?”

A cheerfully synthesized female voice, crisp and unbothered, replied instantly. “Searching for ‘Ancient ocular restoration rituals.’ Numerous highly-rated options available. Would you like to access premium features for enhanced results?”

Arthur sighed. “Just give me the most potent one, please. And make it quick. I’ve got a date tonight, and honestly, seeing the menu would be a plus.”

“Affirmative. One moment while I cross-reference ancient grimoires with modern-day efficacy ratings. Ah, yes. The ‘ritual of Unveiling.’ Requires translation from Elder Tongue. To access the full arcane potential of this spell, a one-time payment of $4.99 will unlock the ‘Elder Tongue Translation Module.’ Would you like to proceed?”

“Five bucks? For actual magic? Seriously?” Arthur scoffed, but a flicker of hope, however desperate, made him add, “Yeah, alright. Install it.” He heard the familiar download ‘ding’ followed by a peculiar, high-pitched whistle from his phone, like a digital hiccup fighting a losing battle.

“Translation module installed. Initiating spell sequence: ‘Unveil, Unveil, Beyond the Veil, Let Sight Preva~aaail’” The AI’s voice glitched, stretching the last word into a distorted, static-laden shriek. The phone vibrated violently, almost jumping from his hand.

Suddenly, he felt a jolt, right behind his eyes. Not the gentle sensation of light, but a strange, disorienting opening. He could see — not just the familiar outlines of his apartment, but shimmering, impossible geometries, swirling colours that defied description, and a sense of an unfathomable space that hummed gently. It was overwhelming, like watching a thousand televisions at once, all tuned to various drug fueled channels, screaming for his attention. His mind reeled; he yearned for the blissful dark he’d known moments before.

“Holy F…” Arthur started, then gasped. A searing pain erupted in his forehead, as if something was pushing its way out. The vibrant, chaotic vision intensified, coalescing into a single point in the center of his new sight. He tried to scream, but only a choked gurgle escaped.

“A minor system recalibration is required for optimal viewing,” the AI chirped, its voice startlingly clear amidst the cacophony of his new reality. “Would you like to authorize the ‘Cosmic Vision Maintenance Pack’ for an additional $9.99?”

The ceiling above him, which he could now see as a pulsating mass of swirling voids, ripped open. And from that tear, something truly enormous, glistening with impossible angles that seemed to fold inward on themselves, stepped into his living room. It had too many eyes, none of them kind, and tendrils that moved with an unnatural, hungry grace. A soundless roar echoed only in Arthur’s newfound sight, a shriek of pure, cosmic hunger.

A final notification pinged from his phone, lying forgotten on the floor. “Rate your Witchcraft 101 experience!”