Serial Killer Round 44 - Dungeons & Doubles! Started! Killer is Dead! Round Over!
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Fucking China.elementsoul said:
For the record, you're haunting the living. And this vengeful ghost shtick is boring us to death.elementsoul said:
Apparently I am dead three times over. And I'm sure you used that nail clipper gag before.elementsoul said:
This is not as painful as I thought it would be.
Ho-shit.
[HEADING=2]Berenzen has been saved by a Cleric![/HEADING]
I didnt accounce the last saves 'cause it wasn't fun, but now things are getting intense o.o
[HEADING=2]Berenzen has been saved by a Cleric![/HEADING]
I didnt accounce the last saves 'cause it wasn't fun, but now things are getting intense o.o
So I just asked my third question- Does the killer have more than 25 (escapist) friends.
To which the answer was no. Because everyone else on this list was dead except for Mortis Nuncius and Segadroid, everything gets narrowed down really fast. If you do a quick count of escapist friends of both targets, Segadroid has 67 while Mortis Nuncius has only 18.
Thus I declare you- Mortis Nuncius- as one of the killers.
To which the answer was no. Because everyone else on this list was dead except for Mortis Nuncius and Segadroid, everything gets narrowed down really fast. If you do a quick count of escapist friends of both targets, Segadroid has 67 while Mortis Nuncius has only 18.
Thus I declare you- Mortis Nuncius- as one of the killers.
@sky Wait can dead people vote ? I'm confused because on a hunch the killer is the guy with the biggest mustache, ehem, Mortis
@Berry: So, you've ruled everyone else out... because we killed them?
But, at least we know we're getting one of the killers.
I mean, it's not like we would ever lynch someone despite having concrete evidence that said person is not the killer.
Ever.
Not in a million years.
No sirree.
But, at least we know we're getting one of the killers.
I mean, it's not like we would ever lynch someone despite having concrete evidence that said person is not the killer.
Ever.
Not in a million years.
No sirree.
Yeah. So much for my voting rights.
I strolled out of the cubicle. I groaned as I remembered I had to go and deliver the mail and what not. I turned on the tap, and rinsed my hands. Behind me, a cubicle door opened. I spotted it in the mirror. I pushed the button on the soap dispenser. A droplet of liquid soap fell out. I pressed it again. The man strolled up to the sink next to me. Although, he didn't seem to wash his hands. Which happened to contain a fair amount of blood. I decided not to pry, but I sped up the cleaning process.
............I move over to the dryer. I turn it on. The noise prevents me from hearing the man shuffle towards me. I felt something prick my side. I look down and see a needle. I stiffen up, but for no discernible reason. I try, but fail to move my now limp limbs. The man grabs me by the scruff, and slams my face into the mirror. It cracks immediately, and I manage to feel the small trickle of blood from my fore head. I fall to the floor, as the man releases me. He sticks another needle in. The world becomes dark.
............I awake. I see two people, both are upside down. The floor seems to have a light bulb sticking upwards? I then notice I can't move my arms or feet. I look up, and see that they're tied to what appears to be a metal pole of some description, with a straight jacket around my chest. Beneath me, is a big tank of water. It dawns on me what's happening.
"Oh. That's unfortunate." I mutter to myself. I feel blood rushing to my head.
"You two, over there. Could you let me down by any chance? I'm sure we can talk about this in an orderly manner, and not resort to these methods." I say, in a pointless attempt at reasoning with the killers. They shake their heads. I sigh. I begin descending, into the water tank. The water begins filling my ears, my nostrils, and even though my mouth remains firmly shut, I feel it trickling in. Eventually, I give in. I open my mouth, and the water floods in.
............I move over to the dryer. I turn it on. The noise prevents me from hearing the man shuffle towards me. I felt something prick my side. I look down and see a needle. I stiffen up, but for no discernible reason. I try, but fail to move my now limp limbs. The man grabs me by the scruff, and slams my face into the mirror. It cracks immediately, and I manage to feel the small trickle of blood from my fore head. I fall to the floor, as the man releases me. He sticks another needle in. The world becomes dark.
............I awake. I see two people, both are upside down. The floor seems to have a light bulb sticking upwards? I then notice I can't move my arms or feet. I look up, and see that they're tied to what appears to be a metal pole of some description, with a straight jacket around my chest. Beneath me, is a big tank of water. It dawns on me what's happening.
"Oh. That's unfortunate." I mutter to myself. I feel blood rushing to my head.
"You two, over there. Could you let me down by any chance? I'm sure we can talk about this in an orderly manner, and not resort to these methods." I say, in a pointless attempt at reasoning with the killers. They shake their heads. I sigh. I begin descending, into the water tank. The water begins filling my ears, my nostrils, and even though my mouth remains firmly shut, I feel it trickling in. Eventually, I give in. I open my mouth, and the water floods in.
@Sky As you pointed out on skype, I missed pun you made. *Pulls out three keys and unlocks the GM power draining device. Lures Sky into the machine using biscuits and tea. Locks her into the machine and removes the GM god mode status, but allowing her to retain the power to anwser spy questions and inform people of their deaths. Slices open her stomach and jumps rope with her intestines until she bleeds to death. *
?You still don?t understand the full nature of the spell, do you??
The dark man before me grinned wickedly, flanked by the four remaining hooded silhouettes. A chill rushed down my spine as though my body were repulsed by the obvious concentration of evil that stood just beyond the flickering light of the candle in my hand. I was paralyzed; my mind screamed orders to run that my legs just were not able to obey. I have experienced terror before but this?thing, this abomination felt as though it were ready to tear through my chest.
As the figure took another step forward, the glimmer from the wick seemed to be snatched away by the oppressive veil that permeated my entire being. The flame still seemed to burn but it no longer made any pretense of shedding light. My chill devolved into shakes, causing hot wax to spill over my hand. I did not care about the scalding pain. I couldn?t possibly...
?Just accept your role in what has happened and play your part like a good little puppet.?
I didn?t see him extend his hand; I just felt the fingers crushing around my face. A scream attempted to escape my throat but my breath seemed pushed back by a black energy. Everything seemed so cold, so faded, so surreal?
Wait?surreal? Everything up to this point had been so vivid. It?s almost like I?m?
?About to wake up??
[hr]
My entire body jerked violently as I threw myself up into a sitting position. For a moment I simply sat there and panted, quietly trying to assess my surroundings. The only light cast around the room was the brilliant glow of the full moon outside dancing with the soft blues emitted from my trusty lamp sitting adjacent to the bed. The chilled October wind blew gently into my room and ran over my bare sweat-soaked chest. I pulled my covers up over my body and huddled back up on the mattress. The entire bed was moist from the perspiration caused from an overactive mind. In the far corner of my room, I thought I heard a stifled chuckle.
Just another nightmare?
My subconscious had been on the fritz ever since I had completed the ritual described in that damned tome so long ago. At first it had just been the specters that appeared in the corner of my eye, beasts that would just flash their horrific smile and laugh at the spectacle of our merciless murdering cycles. My mind had played a lot of tricks on me in the beginning but I have slowly been able to distinguish the difference between my overactive imagination and the actual presence of one of the dark ones. I may not be able to reliably see them but I can almost always detect them. The one sitting in the corner of my room chuckling like a buffoon struck me as an ill omen. My time this cycle was likely running short.
No?it wasn?t the ones that lingered below my sight who truly scared me anymore. It had been my dreams.
The nightmares had been getting stronger and more vivid as the weeks had drawn forward. Most nights it was simply the occult meetings of the shadowy figures that had populated the background of my dreams. Their talks were always unnervingly candid. They seemed to know about the ones that lingered and spoke of them not with hushed tones but openly and knowledgably. Any relief in the idea that I was not alone in my knowledge was immediately quenched by the fact that they were perpetuating the entertainment of the dark ones. They ensured that there was always a knife or two hidden amongst the crowds.
My tome had stated that they were the instruments of the creatures in our world. They called themselves the council.
They need to be stopped.
I rolled out of bed and grabbed the musty green Postal Service tee from the floor. There was no point in trying to sleep anymore tonight. My dreams would only take me back to the dark man. I shuddered at the mere memory of that presence as I walked towards the bathroom.
The dark man was the only nickname that I have for whoever grabbed my face in my dream. It was a clearly foreign presence that had haunted my every unconscious moment. I had no idea the origin of it but there were two things that I could clearly sense: it was a concentrated force of the purest evil and it was trying to send me some sort of message.
I reached into the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of painkillers. My arm sought out the bottle sitting by the side of the bathtub to help chase the fistful of pills I had unceremoniously shoved into my mouth. There was a time when downing large amounts of ill-gotten pharmaceuticals with a sizable pull ofsoap water vodka at three in the morning would have been unimaginable. Now it was the norm. What has everything come to these da?
My eyes fell to the mirror just in time to see the figure in a black hoodie wrap the piano wire around my neck.
Instantly the thread dug into my neck and cut the flow of oxygen into my body. I immediately began to flail, knocking bottles off the counter as I desperately struggled to break the grip of my attacker. He held strong, unwavering in his conviction. I was going to die next. The world was slowly beginning to fade into darkness around me as my brain slipped into a strange drowning euphoria. I guess I that futility is just my way once again?
[hr]
?Come now, are you really going to let that get to you??
There he was again?taunting me?
?You have a higher purpose here. Remember your book.?
But?the cycle?
?The cycle you are always trying to break? Please don?t tell me you?re going soft in your fight now.?
Yes?fight?I need to?
?Wake up??
[hr]
I was drowning where I stood; the killer exerting all of their strength to remove all of my own. My head was floating like a balloon tied down to the earth only by the string tightly wound around my neck. I?m still not entirely certain how fought both the chemical cocktail coursing through my veins and the impending fulfillment of my renewable mortality enough to swing my right elbow into the killer?s rib cage. At first, he only budged a little under the force of my blow. I swung again, causing him to stager slightly in pain. It was only at the third connect when his grip began to loosen just enough to give me room to maneuver. I took the opportunity to introduce his nose to the back of my head.
Both of us instantly hit the patched linoleum in a medley of gasps and yelps. I greedily inhaled, indulging in the luxury that oxygen had suddenly become in the last several seconds. Still, I wasn?t out of the woods yet. I could hear my assailant rustling behind, writhing in pain but already struggling to put their feet back on the ground. Despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I knew I would be unable to withstand another attack like the last. I had to think quickly in order to capitalize on this unlikely second wind.
Smirnoff?I know I have said some terrible things about you in the past. I?m sorry, I really am. But now we need to work together so we can make it out of my bathroom. Funny change of pace, huh?
I firmly gripped the bottle that had tumbled to the floor in the midst of the chaos. Only one shot to make this work. I swung it as hard as I could into the killer?s skull, nailing him with dull thud. Only one shot to knock him to the ground. I ran out the door of the bathroom and charged out into the night. Only one shot to use my power before I was offed for good. I popped the lid off the vodka as I ran down the street toward the warehouse district. Only one shot was left to keep me warm tonight.
I darted through the ashen streets as quickly as my legs would take me. The killer would be unrelenting and there was always a chance that he would catch me if I were to linger. The icy autumn air stung my eyes as I raced headlong through the night; tears began to burn in my eyes as fiercely as the stitch in my side called for a chance to replenish at least a moderate level of oxygen to my blood. But there was no time. I was running on nothing more than adrenaline and an OxyContin-colada. Stopping to rest in the open would spell certain doom.
Don?t stop.
The oppressiveness of the city began to take center stage in my mind?s eye as I sprinted towards my destination. A deep fog had just started to form around me, obscuring my view forward and preventing the brilliant moonlight from lighting my path. The only sound to be heard beyond the heart pounding in my ears was the occasional cackle piercing the dread calm. I knew what this meant. My time was at an end when I reached my destination. I just had to make it all worth it.
The warehouse that I had rented about a week back was in a secluded corner of the district. It was quiet enough for me to set up my latest spell in peace but large enough to hold the large number of dark ones I was expecting to attract. I slammed the thick aluminum door behind and collapsed on the ground. For the first time I was able to take a moment to assess the injuries I had accumulated. A deep bloody gash circled my throat where the piano wire had dug its teeth. A nasty laceration on the back of my head where it had smashed into my assailant. Multiple cuts on my feet since I had sprinted for a mile and a half over asphalt without any shoes. On top of it all, I was out of booze.
My body felt like it was on fire although I wasn?t sure if that was from the overexertion or if it was the cold beginning to sink into my bones. All I wanted to do was wrap myself in a blanket and sleep for the next two days. I didn?t care how haunted my nightmares became?it would have to be better than the hell my life had become. Just some rest would make it all better.
NO!
I couldn?t let my resolve falter yet. I slowly struggled into the middle of the musty building and fell to my knees before the two items of crucial importance for the magic to work. One was the cursed tome that seemed to follow me from life to life, no matter how hard I tried to be rid of it. The other was the tarnished steel dagger that had always acted as my brush when I tried to paint on the vile canvas of the dark arts.
I flipped through the book, trying to ignore the more gruesome acts of malicious blood magics depicted within its pages. Blood magic is a dark and powerful art but misuse can lead to the destruction I have brought over my own head. Finally, I found the relevant page and placed the book on the ground in front of me.
The goal of the spell was simple: I would sacrifice my life this cycle to bring another from beyond the grave.
I pressed the dagger against my left palm and drew blood from deep within. Almost immediately as the steel touched flesh I could hear a hundred hushed voices fill the room with a sense of dread anticipation. This only seemed to confirm the knowledge that had been lying in the back of my head; this ritual was just as evil as the rest. I bit my lip to steady my nerve. I had known for a while now that the only way I had left to fight the shadow was to use its power against itself.
Pressing my hand against the frigid concrete, I slowly drew a bloody circle around myself. Just outside of this I drew another ring, this one punctuated by five points spaced at equal increments as though they were the edges of a pentagram. Finally, I drew two crosses over the sides of my face. With every stroke I made, the dark ones became more and more restless. The whispers gave way to dull murmurs. The murmurs gave way to hideous laughter. The laughter gave way to bone-chilling screeching.
I looked into the pages of the tome and focused intensely on the individual I wanted to bring back from the dead. I knew that as soon as I began to chant the words of power, there would be no turning back. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and began to chant.
Immediately the room fell dead silent. I could feel hundreds of invisible eyes staring right at me, piercing into my very soul. I continued, undeterred. I would make it through the ceremony. One would be given the second chance that they deserved.
And then the rumble came.
At first, it was quiet. A few solitary voices began to whisper in beat to rhythmic articulation. Moments later, a few more joined in. A quiet scraping sound was added to the chorus. I continued to chant, hoping desperately that this was as aggressive as they would become. The voices grew stronger, some beginning to sing in the same demon tongue that I was stumbling through. A dark red glow began to shine from the bloody glyphs that had been scrawled all around me. The light cast shadows over the ones who hide beyond sight and illuminated what they had been doing in this warehouse: dancing. It was a primal dance that seemed to grow more violent as the chanting in the room became louder and louder. The blood began to glow hotter, searing my flesh and revealing the beasts in the truest of the forms. The rows of wicked teeth, the horrible eyes, the raking claws, the curling horns, all dancing together in this orgy of violence and sin. The dancing turned to clawing and fighting as the singing soared over the despicable spectacle. The blood within my veins seemed to boil and my flesh felt as though it were being torn apart at the seams like I was some sort of abused doll being stretched over the executioner?s rack. The chanting from my lips warped into an uncontrollable scream as the horrors danced on. There is no God! There cannot be a God in a world that would allow this much pain! For fucks sake just let it end. Just let it be over. Take me away from all of this! JUST LET ME FUCKING DIE!
[hr]
White. All I could see was white.
?You were so close. You don?t even know.?
What?
?The spell didn?t take. There was no way it could in your current state of mind.?
So it was all for naught?
?No. When the time comes you will be ready.?
Ready for what?
?To wake up.?
[hr]
My eyes fluttered open to the sight of the hooded killer standing over my broken body and toying with the very knife that had acted as the catalysis of my failed ritual. He was flanked by a huddle of the shadow beasts, all grinning in anticipation of what was to come next.
?Well Priest, you have given me quite the run around tonight,? the quiet voiced seethed. ?I tried to give you a more charitable death but after that little stunt you pulled in the bathroom I?m not in such a giving mood anymore.?
The killer hunched over me and smirked.
?You should start worrying right now. I?m going to enjoy this.?
The blade was dragged deeply over my arm, separating the flesh from the bone.
?Be prepared to scream.?
But I couldn?t scream. All I could hear was laughter.
The dark man before me grinned wickedly, flanked by the four remaining hooded silhouettes. A chill rushed down my spine as though my body were repulsed by the obvious concentration of evil that stood just beyond the flickering light of the candle in my hand. I was paralyzed; my mind screamed orders to run that my legs just were not able to obey. I have experienced terror before but this?thing, this abomination felt as though it were ready to tear through my chest.
As the figure took another step forward, the glimmer from the wick seemed to be snatched away by the oppressive veil that permeated my entire being. The flame still seemed to burn but it no longer made any pretense of shedding light. My chill devolved into shakes, causing hot wax to spill over my hand. I did not care about the scalding pain. I couldn?t possibly...
?Just accept your role in what has happened and play your part like a good little puppet.?
I didn?t see him extend his hand; I just felt the fingers crushing around my face. A scream attempted to escape my throat but my breath seemed pushed back by a black energy. Everything seemed so cold, so faded, so surreal?
Wait?surreal? Everything up to this point had been so vivid. It?s almost like I?m?
?About to wake up??
[hr]
My entire body jerked violently as I threw myself up into a sitting position. For a moment I simply sat there and panted, quietly trying to assess my surroundings. The only light cast around the room was the brilliant glow of the full moon outside dancing with the soft blues emitted from my trusty lamp sitting adjacent to the bed. The chilled October wind blew gently into my room and ran over my bare sweat-soaked chest. I pulled my covers up over my body and huddled back up on the mattress. The entire bed was moist from the perspiration caused from an overactive mind. In the far corner of my room, I thought I heard a stifled chuckle.
Just another nightmare?
My subconscious had been on the fritz ever since I had completed the ritual described in that damned tome so long ago. At first it had just been the specters that appeared in the corner of my eye, beasts that would just flash their horrific smile and laugh at the spectacle of our merciless murdering cycles. My mind had played a lot of tricks on me in the beginning but I have slowly been able to distinguish the difference between my overactive imagination and the actual presence of one of the dark ones. I may not be able to reliably see them but I can almost always detect them. The one sitting in the corner of my room chuckling like a buffoon struck me as an ill omen. My time this cycle was likely running short.
No?it wasn?t the ones that lingered below my sight who truly scared me anymore. It had been my dreams.
The nightmares had been getting stronger and more vivid as the weeks had drawn forward. Most nights it was simply the occult meetings of the shadowy figures that had populated the background of my dreams. Their talks were always unnervingly candid. They seemed to know about the ones that lingered and spoke of them not with hushed tones but openly and knowledgably. Any relief in the idea that I was not alone in my knowledge was immediately quenched by the fact that they were perpetuating the entertainment of the dark ones. They ensured that there was always a knife or two hidden amongst the crowds.
My tome had stated that they were the instruments of the creatures in our world. They called themselves the council.
They need to be stopped.
I rolled out of bed and grabbed the musty green Postal Service tee from the floor. There was no point in trying to sleep anymore tonight. My dreams would only take me back to the dark man. I shuddered at the mere memory of that presence as I walked towards the bathroom.
The dark man was the only nickname that I have for whoever grabbed my face in my dream. It was a clearly foreign presence that had haunted my every unconscious moment. I had no idea the origin of it but there were two things that I could clearly sense: it was a concentrated force of the purest evil and it was trying to send me some sort of message.
I reached into the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of painkillers. My arm sought out the bottle sitting by the side of the bathtub to help chase the fistful of pills I had unceremoniously shoved into my mouth. There was a time when downing large amounts of ill-gotten pharmaceuticals with a sizable pull of
My eyes fell to the mirror just in time to see the figure in a black hoodie wrap the piano wire around my neck.
Instantly the thread dug into my neck and cut the flow of oxygen into my body. I immediately began to flail, knocking bottles off the counter as I desperately struggled to break the grip of my attacker. He held strong, unwavering in his conviction. I was going to die next. The world was slowly beginning to fade into darkness around me as my brain slipped into a strange drowning euphoria. I guess I that futility is just my way once again?
[hr]
?Come now, are you really going to let that get to you??
There he was again?taunting me?
?You have a higher purpose here. Remember your book.?
But?the cycle?
?The cycle you are always trying to break? Please don?t tell me you?re going soft in your fight now.?
Yes?fight?I need to?
?Wake up??
[hr]
I was drowning where I stood; the killer exerting all of their strength to remove all of my own. My head was floating like a balloon tied down to the earth only by the string tightly wound around my neck. I?m still not entirely certain how fought both the chemical cocktail coursing through my veins and the impending fulfillment of my renewable mortality enough to swing my right elbow into the killer?s rib cage. At first, he only budged a little under the force of my blow. I swung again, causing him to stager slightly in pain. It was only at the third connect when his grip began to loosen just enough to give me room to maneuver. I took the opportunity to introduce his nose to the back of my head.
Both of us instantly hit the patched linoleum in a medley of gasps and yelps. I greedily inhaled, indulging in the luxury that oxygen had suddenly become in the last several seconds. Still, I wasn?t out of the woods yet. I could hear my assailant rustling behind, writhing in pain but already struggling to put their feet back on the ground. Despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I knew I would be unable to withstand another attack like the last. I had to think quickly in order to capitalize on this unlikely second wind.
Smirnoff?I know I have said some terrible things about you in the past. I?m sorry, I really am. But now we need to work together so we can make it out of my bathroom. Funny change of pace, huh?
I firmly gripped the bottle that had tumbled to the floor in the midst of the chaos. Only one shot to make this work. I swung it as hard as I could into the killer?s skull, nailing him with dull thud. Only one shot to knock him to the ground. I ran out the door of the bathroom and charged out into the night. Only one shot to use my power before I was offed for good. I popped the lid off the vodka as I ran down the street toward the warehouse district. Only one shot was left to keep me warm tonight.
I darted through the ashen streets as quickly as my legs would take me. The killer would be unrelenting and there was always a chance that he would catch me if I were to linger. The icy autumn air stung my eyes as I raced headlong through the night; tears began to burn in my eyes as fiercely as the stitch in my side called for a chance to replenish at least a moderate level of oxygen to my blood. But there was no time. I was running on nothing more than adrenaline and an OxyContin-colada. Stopping to rest in the open would spell certain doom.
Don?t stop.
The oppressiveness of the city began to take center stage in my mind?s eye as I sprinted towards my destination. A deep fog had just started to form around me, obscuring my view forward and preventing the brilliant moonlight from lighting my path. The only sound to be heard beyond the heart pounding in my ears was the occasional cackle piercing the dread calm. I knew what this meant. My time was at an end when I reached my destination. I just had to make it all worth it.
The warehouse that I had rented about a week back was in a secluded corner of the district. It was quiet enough for me to set up my latest spell in peace but large enough to hold the large number of dark ones I was expecting to attract. I slammed the thick aluminum door behind and collapsed on the ground. For the first time I was able to take a moment to assess the injuries I had accumulated. A deep bloody gash circled my throat where the piano wire had dug its teeth. A nasty laceration on the back of my head where it had smashed into my assailant. Multiple cuts on my feet since I had sprinted for a mile and a half over asphalt without any shoes. On top of it all, I was out of booze.
My body felt like it was on fire although I wasn?t sure if that was from the overexertion or if it was the cold beginning to sink into my bones. All I wanted to do was wrap myself in a blanket and sleep for the next two days. I didn?t care how haunted my nightmares became?it would have to be better than the hell my life had become. Just some rest would make it all better.
NO!
I couldn?t let my resolve falter yet. I slowly struggled into the middle of the musty building and fell to my knees before the two items of crucial importance for the magic to work. One was the cursed tome that seemed to follow me from life to life, no matter how hard I tried to be rid of it. The other was the tarnished steel dagger that had always acted as my brush when I tried to paint on the vile canvas of the dark arts.
I flipped through the book, trying to ignore the more gruesome acts of malicious blood magics depicted within its pages. Blood magic is a dark and powerful art but misuse can lead to the destruction I have brought over my own head. Finally, I found the relevant page and placed the book on the ground in front of me.
The goal of the spell was simple: I would sacrifice my life this cycle to bring another from beyond the grave.
I pressed the dagger against my left palm and drew blood from deep within. Almost immediately as the steel touched flesh I could hear a hundred hushed voices fill the room with a sense of dread anticipation. This only seemed to confirm the knowledge that had been lying in the back of my head; this ritual was just as evil as the rest. I bit my lip to steady my nerve. I had known for a while now that the only way I had left to fight the shadow was to use its power against itself.
Pressing my hand against the frigid concrete, I slowly drew a bloody circle around myself. Just outside of this I drew another ring, this one punctuated by five points spaced at equal increments as though they were the edges of a pentagram. Finally, I drew two crosses over the sides of my face. With every stroke I made, the dark ones became more and more restless. The whispers gave way to dull murmurs. The murmurs gave way to hideous laughter. The laughter gave way to bone-chilling screeching.
I looked into the pages of the tome and focused intensely on the individual I wanted to bring back from the dead. I knew that as soon as I began to chant the words of power, there would be no turning back. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and began to chant.
Immediately the room fell dead silent. I could feel hundreds of invisible eyes staring right at me, piercing into my very soul. I continued, undeterred. I would make it through the ceremony. One would be given the second chance that they deserved.
And then the rumble came.
At first, it was quiet. A few solitary voices began to whisper in beat to rhythmic articulation. Moments later, a few more joined in. A quiet scraping sound was added to the chorus. I continued to chant, hoping desperately that this was as aggressive as they would become. The voices grew stronger, some beginning to sing in the same demon tongue that I was stumbling through. A dark red glow began to shine from the bloody glyphs that had been scrawled all around me. The light cast shadows over the ones who hide beyond sight and illuminated what they had been doing in this warehouse: dancing. It was a primal dance that seemed to grow more violent as the chanting in the room became louder and louder. The blood began to glow hotter, searing my flesh and revealing the beasts in the truest of the forms. The rows of wicked teeth, the horrible eyes, the raking claws, the curling horns, all dancing together in this orgy of violence and sin. The dancing turned to clawing and fighting as the singing soared over the despicable spectacle. The blood within my veins seemed to boil and my flesh felt as though it were being torn apart at the seams like I was some sort of abused doll being stretched over the executioner?s rack. The chanting from my lips warped into an uncontrollable scream as the horrors danced on. There is no God! There cannot be a God in a world that would allow this much pain! For fucks sake just let it end. Just let it be over. Take me away from all of this! JUST LET ME FUCKING DIE!
[hr]
White. All I could see was white.
?You were so close. You don?t even know.?
What?
?The spell didn?t take. There was no way it could in your current state of mind.?
So it was all for naught?
?No. When the time comes you will be ready.?
Ready for what?
?To wake up.?
[hr]
My eyes fluttered open to the sight of the hooded killer standing over my broken body and toying with the very knife that had acted as the catalysis of my failed ritual. He was flanked by a huddle of the shadow beasts, all grinning in anticipation of what was to come next.
?Well Priest, you have given me quite the run around tonight,? the quiet voiced seethed. ?I tried to give you a more charitable death but after that little stunt you pulled in the bathroom I?m not in such a giving mood anymore.?
The killer hunched over me and smirked.
?You should start worrying right now. I?m going to enjoy this.?
The blade was dragged deeply over my arm, separating the flesh from the bone.
?Be prepared to scream.?
But I couldn?t scream. All I could hear was laughter.
Ok, I'm out of energy and emotion. Happy Halloween everyone.
