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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1159279
cultist demon stuff
The chloroform was beginning to wear off. Johnathan's vision was still blurry but he managed to pry one eye open. Moving figures and light were all he could make out. He felt a strain on his arms as well as a digging sensation in his ankles. A smell became apparent, however, something about this smell registered in his head like tasting a dirty penny. He felt wet and could smell his own rank breath. His vision was beginning to balance but he still could not open his left eye for some reason. He looked at his feet and notices he was chained and anchored to the floor. The sensation he felt was the iron chains digging into his skin. He looke up and noticed the same situation with his arms. His wrists bound in the same iron an rooted to the ceiling. The worse fact is that he was covered in blood from head to toe. He was producing that copperish tinge of a smell. Suddenly a voice, "ah, he's finally awake," said one of the blurred figures, his depth perception haven't gained normality yet. "Is the circle ready?" "Indeed it is, we are so close to ending the work of our father and beginning our lives as gods," a voice said from behind him. A hand caressed his back and he felt a burning sensation. Sensibility came back to him and he uttered a low growl. "We have made only a few hundred tiny cuts on you my boy. You see the circle will not work unless we have blood, that and the ninth which is you." Johnathan started, "What the hell is going on? Where am i and what the hell is this?!" "A monstrous incantation i am afraid," said the first voice, "altough you wont be able to see its entirety seeing as you are the sacrifice." "You see your blood is special and is needed for the gate to be opened but its your immortal soul that will give the gate balance otherwise we would all be dead." Johnathan didnt have the mental facilities at the moment to completely understand the full effect of the situation. Survival was his only thought much like that of the racoon that gnaws off his paw. "Sorry about the eye there, you put up quite a struggle much as anyone would possessing this bloodline," early fifties johnathan guessed anything else as lost to him at this point. "Well now, lets begin shall we."
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