Carl was just a simple cult member. He woke up early in the mornings to work in the fields and paid his dues to Overlord Iksmakrack when he returned to town in the evenings. Carl had of course never seen Overlord Iksmakrack. He simply assumed that the Overlord had been too busy to enter Carl’s realm of existence. However, The Overlord’s Prophet on This Earth, or ‘Allen’ as Carl also knew him, had reassured them that tonight’s ritual would allow this eventuality to occur sooner rather than later.
This made it all the more distressing that Sophie, a fellow cult member and soon to be daughter in law, was now sporting a large hole on her forehead that had not been there 5 seconds ago. They hadn’t even begun the ritual yet! Sure, they had drawn all the complicated markings on and around the altar but they had yet to begin chanting or even slit the sacrifice’s throat. The sacrifice, who, as Carl noted, had now begun struggling twice as hard against the bindings that tied him to the Altar.
So, as Sophie’s body hit the floor with a dull thud, so did Carl’s knees. Carl then did what any good cultist would do: he began calling to Overlord Iksmakrack for mercy.
“Oh Overlord Iksmakrack, the great and powerful, I besee-”
Carl’s voice stuttered as another body fell to the floor and others began screaming.
“I beseech you to let th-”
Another thud and the sudden absence of candlelight broke Carl’s concentration again. Carl calmed himself with deep breaths. Somebody began pounding on a door. Carl had paid all his dues and had fervently awaited Iksmakrack’s arrival; he had nothing to fear. The pounding on the door ceased, followed by yet another thud. Carl began his prayer anew as the smell of blood enveloped him.
“Oh Overlord Iksm-” Thud, another body fell, “-krack, the great and powerful! I-” Thud “beseech you! Let y-” Somebody’s screams for mercy became an ugly cacophony of gurgling, “-r loyal servants ca-” Thud “-ry o-” Thud “-t your will on this ea-” A final scream ended to leave Carl’s voice the last remaining sound, “-th! Have mercy on our transgressions for we will make up for them a thousandfold in your service! We shall help you usher in a new age in whi-”
Carl heard loud sigh from someone standing above him. “You can stop now.”
Carl was surprised to notice that the annoyed voice was somewhat feminine and had an odd, clicky quality to it. He opened his eyes and looked at the speaker. The voice belonged to a somewhat humanoid figure wreathed in shadow. The black silhouette swallowed the faint moonlight entering through the church’s windows, leaving an abyss where Carl’s eyes found only darkness. In fact, now that Carl looked around the blood-splattered church he realised there was a disturbing absence of light. It was frightening to gaze upon but Carl had expected nothing less from Overlord Iksmakrack. While the lack of fire and brimstone was somewhat disconcerting, Carl had no doubt that the long awaited visit had finally transpired so he wasted no time in prostrating himself before the Overlord.
“I am a-” Carl’s forehead hadn’t even touched the ground before a shadowy hand dragged him to his feet.
“Just to confirm, how many people live in this town?” Overlord Iksmakrack asked Carl, who was surprised to learn that the Overlord had chosen to be the height of an average human.
Carl had to compose himself for a second before answering. “So, there’s Sophie and… a…” a frown crossed Carl’s face before he corrected himself “well there where but now…” he trailed off.
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“Idiot.” Was the last thing Carl heard before his body was ripped apart by darkness.
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The body of the last Cultist in the church falls backwards against the altar, blood smearing as his body sags to the ground. Well, guess I’m gonna have to take that ‘Prophet’s’ word for it; I’m still short three Cultists. I walk over to the altar and reach down to untie the guy strapped to the massive stone slab before I notice something push against the darkness of the room. It doesn’t take me long to realize the problem; the runes painted onto the floor in concentric patterns have begun to glow red and I’m pretty sure I can smell sulphur.
“Fuck.” I mutter and quickly move to scuff the patterns on the floor and push down with darkness to impede whatever this ritual is supposed to achieve. The guy strapped to the table starts screaming.
“FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!” Something keeps pushing, trying to get through like a parasite digging through the skin of this reality. I give the darkness more juice but it’s futile. A strange buzzing fills the church and the sacrifice’s screams become more demonic. I’m desperately scuffing at the runes and contemplating my running speed when I feel the pressure latch onto something and abruptly subside. The buzzing stops, the runes stop glowing and everything goes quiet.
“Huh?” I mutter into the silence and ready myself for an attack.
Everything is silent… until the sacrifice starts screaming with renewed vigour. It’s a scream beyond this world, it rasps through my mind; as if I’m rubbing my brain against a cheese grater. I grunt in pain and clutch my head before I grit my teeth and face the altar. The sacrifice seems to contort and grow, his eyes turn red and horns erupt from his skull.
In a blast of fire and heat, the demonic creature breaks free from its restraints and lunges at me. I dodge with practiced ease, gritting my teeth as the creature screams in pain and fury. I dodge more enraged attacks letting the creature push me backwards. In its enraged state killing this thing would be easy but I have no idea what it is and I’m just a tiny bit curious.
As the brute makes another uncoordinated attack, I jump back and latch onto the wall, my claws easily gripping onto the brickwork. The creature charges after me but only manages to crash into the wall as I scuttle onto the underside of the church’s domed roof.
The result is another hellish scream that would’ve had me fall off the roof if my back appendages weren’t gripping the wood. The beast jumps far higher than a human could to get at me but only manages to face-plant as it falls short. I could wait for the thing to tire out bu- I wince as yet another scream tries to rob me of my sanity.
Guess it’s time to fight back. I pull shadows together into a thick suffocating sludge and force the creature into a sea of darkness. It struggles, pulling and pushing against the blanket of blackness but it’s nowhere near as strong as pressure that the runes where giving off. The shadow sludge forces itself into the creature’s mouth and down its throat. The thrashing becomes more frantic and a church pew is violently thrown against a wall. With a final push, I force the darkness into the beast’s lungs and relax as it starts trashing the church.
The beast continues on its blind rampage through the church for so long that I nearly think it doesn’t need air to move. It doesn’t stop growing either; the smouldering skin develops a scaly quality, the hands and feet grow massive claws and rippling muscles bulge under the creature’s skin. However, its transformation doesn’t do it much good as it seems to realise it does, in fact, need air to survive and collapses onto the stone floor.
I hold the darkness for another second before releasing the creature. The demonic changes seem to start reversing themselves as is it begins gasping for air.
“Aaaargh” it groans, “what the hell happened?”
“You got possessed by something.” I answer, still silently clinging to the roof and wreathed in shadow.
The boy looks around, unable to find me in the dark church and I get a proper look at him for the first time. It’s a teenager, probably around 16 years old with a mop of brown hair and rather unremarkable features. Unremarkable, unless you count the glowing red eyes and small horns that ring his head like a crown. The boy, as if only now noticing his unusual features, suddenly grips his head in pain.
“I don’t think it’s gone.” He whimpers.
“Were you part of this cult?” I ask, remembering my job.
“No, I-” the boy groans in pain before continuing, “I just needed a place to stay.”
I consider whether this is a lie but the boy seems too occupied to even realise I might kill him. Without wasting any more time, I silently slip out of the church and leave the boy to contemplate his life.