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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1129951-Dark-Portal
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by Seraph Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1129951
A short based on a dream I had, and a demon character that plagues me still.
Standing in the middle of a field, underneath the full, blood-red moon, thirteen people in black robes chanted around a red painted circle on the ground. Their chants were in a language generally unknown to the world, the language of the Dark Realms. They were students of the black arts, the Demon's Magic. The circle on the ground was a portal, and the spell was one to charge it, and open it. To allow a demon to enter this world.

They were standing around the circle, hands pressed together before them, as if in a mockery of prayer. None of them moved, and all chanted in unison. As their chanting grew in pitch, they changed posture, stretching out their arms to link hands with those next to them. As soon as they linked their hands, the circle began to glow an unearthly red. The smell of fire and blood began to come from the glowing circle, along with the sound of screams and laughter. They had succeeded - the portal was open.

Rising slowly from the portal was what looked like a man, except his eyes glowed the deep red of the sun's core, and his teeth were long, longer even than a vampire's fangs. His hair was long, to the middle of his back, and a dark blue color. He had large, black leathery wings, like those of a bat, and around his torso was form-fitting black armor. He wore a sword on his belt, and his feet were like great talons, or perhaps claws, ripping extentions of bone joined together by muscle and sinew.

He looked around at the humans, who stared at him in awe. He cleared his throat, a low, gravelly sound, and said, "My name is Ryall. You have brought me here from the Dark Realms, humans, and for that I thank you." He bowed low, his right hand against his stomach, like an actor at the end of a performance. He then looked up at the one in front of him, and grinned, his fangs bared and glinting in the moonlight like daggers.

"Now...you die." With that, he spun to action, becoming a whirl of claws and teeth and sword. It took him less than twenty seconds to literally shred the thirteen bewildered humans. With their parts scattered around the field, he cleaned his blade on one of their robes, and sheathed it. He smirked, and looked around at the bodies.

"Nothing personal," he intoned. "Just stretching my muscles in this realm, so to speak." He laughed madly, spread his wings, and flew off, to discover more about the world he'd been brought to...
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