Not far away, in their hidden sanctum, the worshippers had completed their great ritual. The aftermath was a gruesome tableau of absolute horror.
Hundreds of corpses, their faces frozen in silent screams, were strewn across the chamber floor. A river of blood pooled around them, but the most sickening detail was the bodies themselves: every single one was missing its eyes.
In the center of the carnage, the eyes had been carefully arranged in an octagonal formation, hundreds of them staring up at the cavern ceiling like a constellation of terror.
Only the ten boys remained alive, though not for long. They lay upon a great circular slab, their bodies arranged like the points of a star.
"Arise, O God of the Abyss!" the High Priest chanted, and the formation of eyes on the floor began to glow with an unholy light.
Blood, thick and black, began to stream from the terrified eyes of the boys on the slab. A moment later, a pillar of cobalt-blue fire erupted from the center of the octogram, engulfing the children in its cold flames. Their piercing screams echoed through the chamber for a moment before being abruptly silenced.
The assembled worshippers fell to their knees in ecstatic reverence.
The fire shifted in color, from ethereal blue to searing yellow, then to blood-red and royal purple, before finally collapsing into a column of absolute, light-devouring black.
"The Black Flame of the Abyss!" the High Priest screamed in triumph.
Then, a figure stepped out from the black fire.
It was tall and unnervingly slender, its skin the color of bleached bone. It was androgynous, without clothes or defining features, save for a cascade of ink-black hair that fell to its waist. Its eyes were twin pits of obsidian, deep and utterly soulless.
"We are honored by your presence," the High Priest declared, prostrating himself on the bloody floor. "Great Being."
"What is it that you desire?" the being asked, its voice a dissonant whisper as it stared into the empty air above the priest's head.
"Please," the High Priest begged, "destroy the kingdom and all of its people!"
"Are you certain?" the being's head tilted, a flicker of something unreadable in its black-hole eyes. "That is your absolute wish?"
"Of course, my lord!"
"Then, as per the contract of my summoning, I shall fulfill your desire," it said, and a slow, unsettling smile spread across its pale, androgynous face.
"I thank you, oh Great Being!" the priest sobbed with joy.
"There is no need," the being replied. "But correct me if I am wrong... are you not citizens of this kingdom?"
"We were, Great Being," the priest declared proudly. "But now, we belong only to you!"
A sound like grinding glass echoed in the chamber, a horrifying imitation of a laugh. "Hahaha... I do not think the contract works that way."
"Wha—" Before the priest could finish his question, the being made a simple, dismissive gesture with its hand. The High Priest's head was instantly and silently sliced in half.
As the two halves of the head slid apart, the being addressed the horrified, frozen crowd. "Please, try to remain still. It will allow me to fulfill your request much faster."
A moment of stunned silence, and then, absolute panic erupted.
"This wasn't what he promised!" someone screamed from the back. The spell of reverence shattered, replaced by primal terror. The worshippers scrambled, trampling each other in a desperate, animalistic surge toward the exit.
They didn't get far. The pale being didn't run or charge; it simply ceased to be at the altar and reappeared before the great stone gate, a silent, unmoving sentinel blocking their only escape. Its soulless black eyes swept over the terrified crowd.
A burly, armored cultist at the front of the mob refused to stop, charging forward with a roar.
The being didn't even flinch. It merely lifted a single, slender finger. The charging man stopped dead, his eyes wide with confusion.
He looked down to see a small, cold wisp of the black summoning flame flickering silently on his chest, directly over his heart. It produced no heat and made no sound, but as he watched, his armor, his flesh, and his bones simply flaked away into fine black ash, consumed by the silent fire until nothing was left.
That was the signal for the true slaughter to begin.
The being moved among them not like a warrior, but like a phantom. To the panicked worshippers, it was a blur of white and black, a glitch in reality.
It performed a slow, graceful sweep with one arm, and a dozen people in its path were instantly bisected by an invisible force, their bodies sliding apart without a sound. It gently touched the forehead of a screaming woman, and her scream died in her throat as her entire body turned to a brittle, black statue, which then crumbled into a pile of dust.
It did not rage. It did not exert itself. It was a ballet of annihilation. Its long black hair never strayed from its back as it glided through the chaos, its expression never changing from that serene, unsettling smile.
Some were consumed by the silent black flame that appeared on their skin. Others simply collapsed, their life force drained in an instant, leaving behind hollow, desiccated husks.
In less than a minute, the cacophony of terror faded into an absolute, deathly silence.
The being stood alone in the center of the vast chamber, surrounded by nothing but desiccated corpses and piles of fine black ash that gently stirred in the draft. It tilted its head, observing its work with detached curiosity.
"The petitioners have been attended to," it whispered to the empty hall. "Now... to fulfill the rest of the contract."