Reaching the terrace, she slowly opened the door. The sight that greeted her was even more horrifying.
The walls and ground were etched with intricate runes and magic sigils, similar to those in the ritual site below, indicating that this too was a part of the larger circle.
Bathed in the eerie light of the eclipsed moon, the terrace was covered in the bodies of people
indulging themselves in orgy.
At the center of the terrace are five ugly old women, who seem to be senile in their nineties, with slightly bald, dry silver hair that looks like brittle wire, hunched back, deeply wrinkled skin, sagging boobs and frail forms added to their grotesque and ghastly appearance. Rotten teeth and decaying nails marred their faces, and thick saliva dribbled from their drooping mouths.
These five matriarchs of the hive are naked and indulging themselves in the company of multiple young men and women.
They have an ecstatic expression on their face as they keep smacking their core against the young men and women.
Hecate, the oldest of the sisters, her wrinkled and leathery skin sagging in grotesque folds, cackles with glee as she lures in her victims. Her yellowed teeth, stained with decay, gnash together as she beckons them closer with a twisted, gnarled finger.
The young men and women are drawn in by her putrid scent, a foul mixture of rotting flesh and decay. They are mesmerized by her seductive gaze, not realizing the horrors that await them.
As she indulges in her depraved desires, the old witch's hands roam freely over the trembling bodies of her victims, her nails dirty and jagged, scratching and tearing at their tender flesh. Her cackles turn into guttural moans of pleasure as she feasts on their innocence and purity, relishing in the revolting spectacle.
Delilah, the second oldest, is held mid air as she is being sandwiched by two men.
Salome, the middle sister, is french kissing a man as he held her in mid air, while another took her from behind along with a woman between her legs.
Circe, the fourth sister, rode a man, with another’s shaft in her mouth, as she fingered two women.
Jezebel, the youngest, had a man below and a man in missionary position, two women sucking sagging flesh while she is sucking another woman’s nectar.
Sera's stomach churned at the sight before her, and she couldn’t hold back the wave of nausea that overtook her.
"Urgh!" she groaned, doubling over as she vomited on the spot.
The retching sound caught the attention of the five old women, who turned their attention to her, recognizing her presence, their eerie laughter filling the air.
"Kekeke," they cackled in unison, the sound chilling and unnatural.
"Welcome, Sera," Delilah teased with a twisted grin. "Want to join us?"
"Disgusting. Could you not make me wait outside while you finish your... dinner?" Sera spat, her expression twisted in annoyance. "Why do you have to make me watch this horror?"
"Oh my, did you hear that, sisters?" Hecate crooned, her voice dripping with mockery.
“Yeah! Yeah! This is clearly contempt for us poor old folks," Delilah chimed in, her tone exaggeratedly wounded.
"Sniff, sniff. She used to be so cute and adorable," Salome whimpered, wiping a crocodile tear with a bony finger. "But look at her now—she hates us grannies."
"It can't be helped," Circe sighed theatrically. "Young people always look down on us oldies."
"Indeed," Jezebel agreed with a nod. "But they seem to forget that everyone turns old eventually. And when that time comes, their own young ones will show them the same contempt they're showing us now."
All the five old women teased Sera as they continued their orgy.
Sera, listening to their taunts, felt her anger flare up. She clenched her fists tightly, clicking her tongue, ‘Tch, And mother asks us why we are hostile to these psycho bitches.’
“Kekeke….”
“Kekeke….”
“Kekeke….”
“Kekeke….”
“Kekeke….”
The five matriarchs burst into maniacal laughter at the sight of Sera's fury, their cackles echoing off the terrace walls.
“Haaaa” Sera tried to calm herself by inhaling and exhaling deeply.
The fire of lust and arousal that had stirred within Sera was thoroughly extinguished by the grotesque scene before her. Once she had calmed herself, she began to observe the terrace more carefully. Her gaze first fell on the young people entwined with the old women, their bodies moving in a trance-like rhythm. Their eyes were dull, vacant, and lost in a daze.
‘I see,’ Sera thought, her expression hardening. ‘They're all under the charm of these old hags. They must be hallucinating, thinking they're having a good time with exceptional beauties. I wonder what their faces would look like if they were to wake up from this twisted illusion.’
"Why don't you keep some of them alive for the future?" Sera suggested, sarcastically.
"We have plenty of them imprisoned in the underground cells," Jezebel replied with a twisted smile.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Sera narrowed her eyes. "What kind of ritual are you performing?"
"Why spoil the surprise?" Circe chuckled. "It will be over soon. Just wait."
"I heard this ritual has been going on for the past month. Is there really a ritual that takes so much time?" Sera pressed, her curiosity mingled with unease.
Delilah grinned wickedly. "No, dear. The ritual itself only takes place during the red lunar eclipse. The past month was all about preparation."
"Preparation?" Sera asked, puzzled.
"Yes, what you see now is just the final act." Delilah replied with a sinister undertone. "The groundwork for a ritual of this magnitude requires meticulous attention. The gathering of energy, the alignment of symbols, the… participants—all had to be carefully prepared.”
“All those who are participating in this ritual should have intercourse with the sacrifice and mark them in one way or another. Such as with our juices or bites or nail scratches. Everyone has to do it with everyone. So it took a lot of time” Sighed Jezebel.
“???”
“That means, you five have—with all these people?” Sera is horrified.
“Hehehe, yes of course.” laughed Delilah.
"Where the hell did you kidnap all these people from? No matter how you see it, it would have caused a large commotion."
"We should thank you for that," Delilah replied with a twisted smile.
"Me?" Sera's eyes narrowed in confusion.
Copyright © [November] [2024] [The Rainy Imp]. All rights reserved.
"Yes, These are the clansmen and all the members that have the bloodline of the previous Marquess and of the demonkin who are involved with him. While the Church is focused on hunting down the main figures, Ravenna and our people managed to trick their clansmen into seeking refuge in our hideout. They got complacent, became drunk, lost control of their lust and let their guard down. Charming them was child’s play."
‘Mother tricked them? Is this the agenda she said she had when she visited us?’ Sera thought.
"So, these are people who are still considered fugitives by the Church," Sera muttered, piecing it together.
"Exactly," Circe chimed in. "No one would care even if they died a dog’s death. And the best part is that they have strong magic capacity and life force."
"I see," Sera understood.
‘I suddenly feel very guilty and pity towards them. I’m very sorry for what you are going through. I think I’ve done something unforgivable to you all,’ Sera silently lamented and sincerely apologized to them in her heart.
‘At the very least, you will die in hallucination and will remain oblivious to the fact that they slept with these ugly old bitches.’ Sera consoled herself.
“Rest in peace.” Sera prayed whole heartedly for their peaceful departure to the afterlife.
While Sera is consoling her guilty heart, the area bathed in the eerie red moonlight slowly succumbs to encroaching darkness as the lunar eclipse advances. The world around them is plunging into shadow, and an unsettling breeze stirred, causing Sera's hair and gown to flutter.
Noticing the shift, Salome spoke up, “Sisters, it is about time.”
All eyes turned to the sky, watching as the eclipse neared its zenith.
And how they had sex with many ugly old cronies
All five matriarchs chanted a brief incantation in ethereal voices.
בְּשֵׁם הַיָּרֵחַ וְהַדָּם,
נִפְתַּח הַמַּסָּךְ הָעוֹטֵף,
נַעֲרֹר אֶת הַחוֹשֶׁךְ בְּלֵב הַקֹּרְבָּן.
נָפֵץ אֶת הַשָּׁעִים,
נַשִּׁיב אֶת הַמַּחְשָׁבוֹת הָאָבוּד.
תִּפְעַל הַמַּגִּיָּה שֶׁנִּשְׁכָּחָה,
הַתּוֹדָעָה תָּקוּם מֵחָדָשׁ.
Be'shem ha'yare'ach ve'ha'dam,
Niftach ha'masach ha'oteif,
Na'aror et ha'choshech b'lev ha'korban.
Nafetz et ha'sha'im,
Nashiv et ha'machshavot ha'avud.
Tif'al ha'magiya she'nishkacha,
Ha'todaa takum me'chadash.
In the name of the moon and blood,
We open the shroud that surrounds,
We awaken the darkness in the heart of the sacrifice.
Shatter the chains,
Restore the lost thoughts.
Let the forgotten magic work,
The consciousness will rise again.
Click.
Then they snapped their fingers in perfect unison. The sound echoed through the castle, reverberating across miles, shattering the charm that had entranced the ritual's sacrifices.
The orgy which has been going on for the past one month suddenly came to a halt along with the incantations. Silence descended all of a sudden which felt extremely horrible and eerie.
The people, previously under the matriarchs' spell, suddenly awoke from their daze. One by one, they collapsed to the ground like puppets whose strings had been severed. Their minds remained blank for a moment, but then the memories began to flood back—how they had arrived in this place, the unspeakable acts they had committed, and how they had been manipulated into becoming sacrifices.
“Aaargh,” someone screamed as the realization of their horror dawned upon them.
This was followed by a chorus of thousands of victims. Their heart-wrenching screams pierced the dead silent night:
“Aaargh…..”
“Aaargh…..”
“Aaargh…..”
“Aaargh…..”
“Aaargh…..”
………
……..
…..
..
“What happened to them?” Sera asked, startled.
Jezebel replied, “Their charm broke, and the month-long stress their bodies endured finally registered in their minds, along with their memories.”
Sera asked, “Is it required for them to be awake in the ritual?”
“Huh? No. Why do you ask?” Circe responded, puzzled.
“Then why did you break their hallucination? You could have left them in their semi-sleep state,” Sera asked, her voice trembling as the screams persisted.
“Tch, tch. How could we do that?” Salome shook her head, casting a disappointed glance at Sera as if reprimanding a misguided grandchild.
“Yes, how could we? These men and women must know that they spent their final moments in the embrace of our beauty. This way, they will be fully aware that they perished in paradise.” chuckled Hecate.
“...” Sera felt stupefied, not knowing what to say.
“Are you demons? Don’t you have any pity for these sad and wretched souls?” Sera asked, her eyes almost brimming with tears.
“Kekeke, also we needed a signal.”
“Signal?”
Before the old hags could reply, the newly awakened victims, their bodies weakened by muscle cramps and exhaustion, began attempting to attack the matriarchs and the castle’s inhabitants. Their movements were sluggish, their strength sapped by the unnatural state they had endured.
Despite the desperate efforts of the victims, the five matriarchs just remained calm and smiled at them in disdain.
Taking the heart-wrenching screams of the sacrifices as their signal, the hive members, including the matriarchs, resumed their carnal dance forcefully. Their bodies moved in a frenzied rhythm, while their voices joined in a hauntingly beautiful yet unsettling song.
The eerie incantation, sung in an arcane and unfamiliar tongue, filled the castle with a chilling resonance. As the eclipse reached its zenith, the atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive, charged with the dark energy of the ritual. The voices of the hive members wove together in a supernatural chorus, amplifying the sinister aura that enveloped the space.
The ritual’s dark chant, rich with forbidden imagery and ancient power, sought to harness the eclipse’s malevolent energy and the blood moon’s ominous influence for their nefarious purposes.
**Incantation for the Ritual of the Red Moon Nymphs**
Layla dam v’shefa nofesha
Nimfot ha’yareach, harpiku aleinu!
Satharos vel'a'thkar,
Lamen kothra nimba,
……
…
Sera's gaze drifted upward, her heart pounding as she noticed the eclipse nearing its completion, leaving only a crimson red ring visible in the sky. The darkness it cast seemed to feed the growing power of the ritual, drenching the land below in an unsettling, otherworldly gloom. The vivid red light of the moon is now dim, obscured by the creeping shadow.
As the matriarchs continued their haunting song, their voices mingling with the screams of the victims, Sera noticed something peculiar. The screams she heard far exceeded the number of people present.
Perplexed, she listened more intently, her senses heightened, and realized that these additional cries were emanating from the ground below.
With graceful precision, she maneuvered through the writhing bodies moving towards the edge of the terrace compelled by her curiosity.
The moonlight swallowed by the eclipse, all she could see beyond the terrace is an impenetrable and endless darkness.
----------------------------------------
Copyright © [November] [2024] [The Rainy Imp]. All rights reserved.
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This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.