Rooney screamed in abject fear...

He knew he'd been hit with a hellbane hex and he was about to get his comeuppance...

Dean Rooney screamed when he reached into his pocket and found a red lighter. He hadn't put it there. And he'd always had a superstitious fear that a red lighter would be his undoing and would jinx him for life. So how did the lighter get there? What did it mean?

He knew what it meant. He was about to get his comeuppance. The truth was, he'd brought it on himself by his less than reputable actions over the last five years. Now he'd gone way to far and somebody clearly has decided to wreak vengeance on him.

But Rooney being Rooney he never blamed himself, never felt he was wrong. And yet he'd been very, very wrong.

What had happened was this...

Rooney lived in St Albans, a picturesque town just north of London. He'd hooked up with a girl called Suzie. It all looked roses. He promised her the world. Next thing she gets pregnant. He seems good with it, but starts an affair with a girl at his workplace. Then he ditches Suzie and skedaddles up north to dodge child support. His parents appeared unconcerned about this, being essentially chavs. Whereas Suzie's family were livid.

After a great deal of barracking Suzie gets sole custody of her child and there's a standoff for five years. Rooney having seen his child for a total of three days out of five years, and still dodging child support. For reasons unknown Rooney and his family concoct some story and call in social services causing all sorts of worry and grief for Suzie and her family, not to mention her five year old daughter.

At this point Suzie's brother steps in.

"Look, I know of a guy who might be able to sort this out."

That's where I came into the picture...

It seemed like a righteous case to unleash an all-out hex. So I did. The decision was to target Dean Rooney directly. So after getting all the information available on him, I went over to the Devil's Dyke, an ancient place of power, not far from Cambridge. I parked up near a village called Reach and made my way along the mysterious earthwork that some believe was constructed around the same time as Avebury Circle in Wiltshire.

Dusk had now well and truly set in and the first stars were starting to twinkle. I sat down on one of the ridges of the long, straight Devil's Dyke and slowly entered visionary trance, spinning of the entoptic phenomenon that occurs when you close your eyes and drift... The sparkling dots take on form until eventually you are in another realm, very much like lucid dreaming.

I was on the astral and now it was a question of traveling out of body to Manchester in the north of England where Rooney was living. Magick like this works according to the non-local aspects of quantum mechanics. Physical distance and time don't come into it. They are immaterial to achieving results.

Drifting out of my body, I traversed the flatlands of the Fens, over towns and villages, then over the more rugged and hilly landscape of the north, seeing the sprawl of lights that was Manchester.

Homing in on Rooney's apartment by remote sensing, I slowly entered via an open window, which, was an open invitation, much like asking a vampire in... From there, there's no going back.

I drifted through the various rooms of the house and finally found Rooney in bed asleep, next to his girlfriend. The first thing I did was harness energy, building it from the chakra in my abdomen area, spinning it to crescendo, then forming a dark, spider-like creature with vicious black eyes and poisoned fangs. This was a servitor, a thoughtform, designed to haunt Rooney's every waking hour and even his dreams. Programmed to wreak havoc in his life, which would be filled with misfortune.

I then went over to a chair in the bedroom where Rooney had flung his jacket before going to bed. Again I harnessed energy and spun it to a peak, manifesting a red lighter in his jacket pocket. To be honest I couldn't be sure this latter element would work or not. Manifesting physical items is hit or miss at best, and very hard to do. But I saw this one as icing on the cake if it worked. I'd been told that Rooney had a big superstitious fear of red lighters. God knows why. But he believed he would be jinxed for life if he ever took one in his hands. Who was I disavow him of that belief? It suited my purpose. Belief is best used as an engine, then discarded when the job is done. Best not to be in the thrall of belief, but to be in command of it and use it to advantage.

With that I was done. The hex was in motion. There was no going back...

The scary spider servitor was out to bring Rooney his comeuppance. A programmed piece of ether-ware that would not stop unless deleted and evaporated.

As to the red lighter, it likely never actually manifested on what we see as the material plane. It was essentially a mind virus and what Rooney believes he pulled out of his pocket was in fact a mirage... But a mirage that destabilized him and led to him jinxing himself due to his belief in his superstitious fear about red lighters.

One of the upshots is he started paying child support, including making a deal on back pay to cover the last five years. All in a bid to shake the jinx which he had essentially put on himself... with a little help from me.

P.S. Names have been changed in the above story for privacy reasons. Locations are as is. No disrespect to British footballer/manager Wayne Rooney for borrowing his surname.