It involved invoking the wrath of the Smoky One of the crossroads, forests and cremation grounds, with Her winnowing basket and Her baleful glare.
It involved tears and offerings and rage.
My laptop turned on by itself and began playing Tracy Chapman's "Talkin' About A Revolution". I wept with broken gratitude.
Later I found out that one of my soul-rapers died not long after the Dhumavati ritual.
May all vampires know Her wrath. May the creators of scapegoats know the terror of seeing Her face. May all soul-stealers know the futility of begging Her forgiveness. May all evil-doers learn to dread the sight of Her crows.
May they find nowhere to run.
May She grant me the blessing of hearing their screams of fear as She hunts them down.
May She come for them all.