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The Awakening of the Dark

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Twisting, the trunks of mighty trees bent over, Splintering, shards spread, and curved upon themselves, like one may bend a ruler, to some extent, slowly curving in, as if it were no tree, merely a limb of something much larger, they moulded together, as a trio of large figures approached the few trees that commenced this rather odd behaviour. Twisted figures, far too thin to even be clinging to the last dwindling fibres of life, but not that they really needed to *live* no, they had a far greater purpose now, their legs, long, little more than bone, upward facing spikes poking out towards the thigh, the lead of the trio was missing the front of it’s skull, the one to the back left, missing the right side of its skull, and the one to the back right, missing the left of its skull, if all three missing pieces were put together, it would close up the gaps, this was done purposefully, a symbol of their unison in service to their lord, a false god. The lead stopped, their towering 7ft figure standing above the splintered trunks, which now formed a jagged alter of sorts. A fresh corpse lay within his hands, seeming to be that of a young human male, approximately 18 years old, though it was hard to tell, after what had been done, the face seemed to be…missing… as if it collapsed in upon itself in a grotesque manner, veins still pumping, spraying blood out of the small wounds while the imploded muscle tissue pulsed with life, a deep gurgling sound from within the crushed throat of the victim, whatever it may have been trying to say blurred by the horrid noise of its own twisted blood, it was kept alive for a reason. Where were they? well, that may be best left unanswered. But, they were on a small island between the major continents of this world… why hellifyno?…

Why hellifyno?… a good question… it was perfect, the centre of magic in the universe. The creatures seemed to be guided by a blinding faith, as their eyes had rotted away, the melted jelly from their eyes dripping down bony cheeks, bony, charred, jagged cheeks. Their chests did not retract nor expand, as they had no need for breathing. The body was gently lay down upon the twisted, splintered tree alter, the first, primary figure stepped back, the other two stepped forward in an eerie unison, one holding an assortment of thorned flowers, the other a red chalk like substance. the chalk holder would trace the figure of the pulsing, mass of flesh, blood still squirting out from twisted veins. The one with the thorn covered flowers would place one gently upon the centre of his chest, while gently removing the thorns from the others, slowly stabbing them into all of the pulsating flesh that was once called human, this thing used to be somebody’s son, maybe a husband, a father, but in *their* eyes, this was a far greater purpose, master allat MUST return.

the little remaining colour drained from the victim on the altar, a last, gargled breath in their own blood taken, as it began to seep through them, onto the bottom of the altar, into the tree alter. The three opened their mouths in unison, but no sound. not even the gentle ambience of the woods anymore. ALL fell silent. Nothing left… not even the once whispering winds seemed to be carrying their invisible forces across the land, but yet, the trees that were still standing bowed to their natural overlord that was the wind. The figures stood, as their jaws began to violently unhinge, the dreadful snapping as tiny shards of coal black bone splintered through the fragile, thin flesh of their jaws. SCREEECH! All three screamed like banshees suddenly at once, the sound barrelling around the small island almost instantly, as a deep black fog spilled from their nose holes, their ears, the holes which eluded to where eyes may have once resigned.

The fog would entwine with the pulsating flesh of the victim… or rather, the chosen. The sacrifice, the one deemed worthy enough to summon back a being from banishment from some form of afterlife, so far from life, yet not dead. Merely absent from reality. It had been slain, from another world entirely, a deep evil, in SOME perspective, but wasn’t everything just a matter of perspective, there could be no good, if not a force to counter it. Was it even evil then? the fog would entwine the chosen, fading, merging with what was left of the skin, betrothing itself with the being that once called itself a man. the ear piercing screeching would grow louder, while the jaws continued to peel away from the skull, flesh slowly ripping as more crunching and snapping created the background noise to this hideous song of ritual.

the fog would drape the being into a veil of darkness, as the pulsing of the bloodied muscle tissue began to cease, as the thing now lay still, before a deep groan rumbled the very coal like stones beneath the blackened feet of the three believers, the leaves on the trees would shrivel up, as every tiny bit of energy around the false lord (apart from that of the trio) would be assimilated into his existence, feeding him, feeding his awakening, the ember of it’s existence rekindling, the fog would begin to fade, fading into his body, revealing a twisted figure, almost a being made entirely of a wood it would seem, burning in some spots, letting off the potentially lethal, smothering smoke. Its first form in a year, or more, none knew how long he had been drifting since he lost his life. not even he. arms stretched, creaking as the wood on his form splintered, the thorns injected into him shooting out like bullets, legs groaned in pain, trying to resist this horrid beings awakening to no avail as it now stood firmly on the alter, it could sense it. the corruption of people’s minds, hundreds of them, no thousands worldwide, the evil views, even the lesser ones, causing him to form a sly grin.

Although reborn, the lord allat had work to do, he must rebuild his guardians. find, and defend a new lair. since his estate was long since gone, and he wasn’t even on the same world anymore… fiery red eyes looked around, still with a devilish grin, before he would begin to walk away, into the forest of the small island, very small, it was actually quite insignificant, he should inhabit it. But he was back. and he didn’t plan on leaving… It begins…

 

    1 Comment
    1. Siclides Maker of Deals 1 year ago

      Heh more dark beings of darkness and the void been showing up

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