Fantasy || Found in the Dark ||

[soulsparks]

It's dark. Even when eyes flutter open, it's still dark as a moonless night. Where was he? Where was anyone? The man's head turns, side to side frantically but nothing changes. Connor is still met with the darkness that covers the room. Was it a room? His eyes close tight, not that it made a difference in sight, but rather to focus himself. Think. What was the last thing that happened? What was the last thing he remembers?

Thoughts travel back to earlier in the day that started like many others. Connor would wake up to greet the morning, even if his body begged him for just an extra hour or two to sleep. He would grab his tea to further push himself to start the day, and then he would prepare for the interviews lined up for today. There had been many, but there was little different between each job. Paper filing, assistant work, and all the other boring office jobs that nobody truly wanted. Connor wasn't exactly ecstatic about them either, but they would have brought some well needed money to the table. They also would have been more consistent than the odd jobs he's been doing up until this point.

Nevertheless, how did he get here? The last interview started like everything else, though he will say the building was much darker and older than the others that had been visited that day. A friendly face would greet him and ask him to wait and to take a seat. He does remember thinking how dusty it was in that office, but that was the last thought the redhead could think before his memory goes dark.

Brown eyes open once more, this time greeted with the dim light of candles. Small light cast onto the tall trees of the forest, making it known that the last place he remembered being is not where he was. Again, even trying to stand up the man found himself shackled to something. The light was not bright enough to actually show what he was bound to, or it was so far off that the light stood no chance showing it off. Heavy metal chains snap out of nowhere, pulling the man's arms apart as he's forced to his knees. Hooded figures soon showing themselves from out of the shadows, and while Connor was previously confused, his fear now set in.

His body started to tremble, and even when he tried to scream for help Connor found it muffled against the cloth binding his mouth. His arms forcibly spread to accept the fate that was encroaching on him. The cold air of the night did nothing to ease the shaking of his form, and as hooded figures set in closer, eyes would plead to release him. Even muffled, only a few words came out even remotely clear.

"Please! STOP!"

 

[sspky]

The ritual fire danced, and the Grayfang danced with it. It was not yet tangible, but the veil between its world and the next had been pulled thin by the cultists encircling the flames. It could feel the heat of the sacred blaze and the heat of the blood that coursed through the humans and the heat of the moonlight that sang to the Graysongs very core.

It wasn’t alone in its dance. Others like it had been called to the ritual, their misshapen bodies folding and distorting with the moon-song only they could hear. There were Blackfeathers and Redclaws and Sharpfins, and others still, all naked and writhing in the hot shadows.

While the cultists smelt delicious, they were each carefully warded against the primal spirits that swarmed them. Their sacrifice, fortunately, was not, and the host all clambered about its metal-bound form, ravenous and excited.

The fire blazed before them, and the cultists yanked their victim’s chains closer to its edge. They’d cast the mortal into the inferno shortly, and once they did, the host would descend upon him, their dance transforming into a visceral battle, as they tore each other to shreds for the opportunity to consume the living sacrifice.

And the Grayfang was ready, vibrating with the ecstasy of the unfolding moonlit ritual.