Amidst a dark, breathless hall,
a woman with long, untamed blonde hair
stood still — her gaze locked upon the circle.
Wrath, Solum, Hope, Despair, and Melancholy
swirled like spirits caught in a silent storm.
Her eyes, wide with anticipation, refused to blink,
as if waiting for the world itself to shatter.
"Spirits of all," she whispered, voice low like wind through bone,
"this slave of yours offers you these sacrifices.
Feast upon their blood, drink deep of their souls,
and answer to my prayer."
She knelt on the eerie black floor,
its chill seeping into her skin like death's kiss.
From behind, she dragged forth her offering:
A fish, gasping on the edge of the living world,
its silver skin dull, gills flaring as water was thrown
again and again — just enough to prolong its agony.
A snake, bound cruelly to a wooden rod,
a rope carved into its flesh, stealing its last instinct to flee.
A sparrow, wings clipped, chest rising in trembles.
An eagle, proud and silent, eyes burning with defiance.
A sheep, dumb and unknowing,
staring into nothing — its fate already written.
A wolf, snarling under the weight of a towering man,
its mouth wired shut, fury trembling in every limb.
Then came the final offerings:
A child, weeping without a sound.
A man, beaten but breathing.
A woman, limp yet alive.
The circle pulsed.
The floor groaned.
And the woman bowed her head lower.
"Shut up, kid!"
The man in the demon-shaped mask smacked the boy across the head,
his voice laced with mockery.
"You should be proud — you're being sacrificed for a noble cause."
ZMMMMMM.
A sound — low, unnatural — rang in the masked man's ears.
His body froze.
His eyes widened.
And then —
"Agghhh—!"
The scream tore through his throat but dissolved almost immediately.
He staggered back, gasping, choking —
but the air denied him.
He ripped the mask from his face —
and with it, something came undone.
His nose ruptured, blood spilling in thick streams down his lips.
Teeth clattered to the ground, one after the other,
like broken ivory thrown by fate itself.
Until the last one dropped — and with it,
his entire mouth vanished.
Only muffled, garbled sounds escaped now —
barely whispers, echoes of a man unraveling.
The woman remained knelt on the blackened floor,
sweat trailing down her brow.
Her shoulders trembled — not with fear,
but with something else.
Relief.
A soft, broken sigh left her lips.
As if, for just a moment…
she knew she was safe.
Soon, the chaos unfolded.
What happened to the masked one was merely a jest —
a warning — from the spirits.
And soon, the same fate followed for everyone else.
First, the giant fish.
It barely reacted —
its body just jittered rapidly,
as its scales tore off,
ripped away and pulled to one side of the circle.
Its blood flowed to another.
Its flesh, peeled and dragged to a third.
Its bones were left,
soon to be mangled, twisted, and turned
into one of the four white circles that marked the ritual's outer edges.
The ritual was not lit by any holy glow,
only the darkness of the hall,
and the grotesque dance of flesh, blood, bones, and muscle.
Then — the fish symbol appeared, etched within the alchemic system of the circle.
Next came the snake.
It hissed in agony,
unable to move,
its fate no different.
Scales, flesh, and bones — all torn apart,
dragged and separated
into their rightful places within the ritual.
Then came the sheep and the wolf.
Both screamed — in innocence and rage.
Their flesh, blood, and bones were blended,
mixed together violently,
until their elements fused and spilled into the four sides of the circle.
Now, within the carvings of the ritual,
the signs had appeared —
the fish, the snake,
the sheep, and the wolf.
Four symbols.
Four beasts.
The beginning of the summoning.
Instantly, a fire lit up,
covering everything in its orange glow.
Then the blood element reached out —
forming a circle around the human sacrifices.
Even the ones with the demonic masks weren't spared.
Fifteen of them were marked as sacrifices
by the circle of alchemy.
Soon, bone began to take form —
structured into the shape of a monster.
Then came the muscles, the nerves,
wrapping and stretching, layer by layer.
Blood flowed over it,
and finally, flesh followed.
What stood now was a shallow being —
its face a grotesque mixture of sheep and wolf,
its chest bearing gills,
and a long, slithering tail of a snake.
Then the blonde witch spoke:
> "Hound of Darkness,
devour the sacrifices —
and bring forth the Summoned Ones!"
After her command,
the beast moved.
It was huge,
each step heavy and trembling the floor.
It lunged at the first victim —
devoured him in a single gulp,
gnawing his flesh.
A strange force held the others,
rendering them frozen, unable to move.
Then, from the beast's mouth,
it puked out a man —
in his late 30s,
wearing only a half-shirt and shorts.
Unconscious.
It devoured another —
this time a woman in her twenties,
then three more,
and at last, the final male sacrifice.
From its stomach,
it spat out a young man,
in his early twenties — limp, barely breathing.
All of them lay unconscious.
But when the beast began munching on the seventh sacrifice,
something went wrong.
Its body began to disintegrate —
flesh bubbling and peeling,
bones cracking from within.
Then it puked again —
but this time, only half a form came out:
The head and torso of a woman,
jittering, twitching —
wearing a white t-shirt now soaked in blood.
Her mouth was only half-formed,
and she wasn't even able to scream.
"The summoning was… partially successful."
The blonde woman knelt,
her voice barely more than a whisper.
She stared into the darkness,
shallow eyes