Kiss me on the saucer!"

"

One time, having nothing better to do, my friends and I decided to try summoning a spirit using a saucer. We did everything as we were told. We sat in a semicircle, placed our fingers on the saucer, and waited for the spirit to arrive. We didn't summon anyone in particular. We simply howled and chanted several times in unison: "Spirit, come! Spirit, come! Spirit, speak to us..."

Five minutes later, just as we were about to give up, the spirit "descended" to us. The saucer twitched a few times, and we kicked each other, thinking one of us was trying to "trick" the others. But then we realized the saucer was moving without our help. Suddenly, all our questions vanished, and we struggled to come up with something to ask. They started asking all sorts of nonsense questions about grades, clothes, boys...

The saucer answered a few times, seemingly coherently, and then began circling the drawing paper very quickly, forming letters: "Hahahahaha..." We barely touched the saucer with our fingers anymore—it seemed as if it were running along the letters itself. Each of us, standing at our own end, tried to keep the saucer from rolling off the table. There was no fear yet. Instead, there was amazement.

Then this "mad" saucer began writing: "I am Satan, kiss me! Kiss me, everyone!"

One of us joked:

"And where should I kiss you?"

Immediately, the letters began to form words: "Kiss me on the saucer!"

After this exchange, we all suddenly felt a little ill. One of our friends lost control of the saucer, it fell to the floor and broke into three pieces.

 Relieved, we began clearing the candles from the table and rolling up the poster board. We picked up the pieces of the broken saucer and tossed it into the trash can. Then we sat down to drink tea and discuss what had happened. Fear gripped us when we clearly heard a noise and a scuffle coming from under the sink, where the trash can we'd thrown the pieces of the saucer into was. As if on cue, we jumped up and, pushing each other, tumbled out of the kitchen.

After milling around in the hallway, we couldn't think of anything better to do than ask the lady of the house's younger brother, who was watching a movie on TV, to take out the trash. We spun some nonsense about it being a fortune-telling exercise—if he took out the trash, we'd tell his fortune too. So, at 1:00 AM, we persuaded a thirteen-year-old boy to take the trash can out to the garbage chute. He left. We huddled in the doorway by the open door and began to listen. A couple of minutes later, we heard cursing and the slamming of the garbage chute door. Then the landlady's brother returned, wide-eyed:

"What was in the bin?!"

We didn't know what to say.

"Who did you put in there? Who did I throw out?"

We started telling him everything, just as it happened. He twirled his finger at his temple and went back to watching TV.

Nothing else scary happened to us after this fortune-telling, but it was enough to make us think twice and stop playing such "games."