Extra warnings for knives, cutting, demons, cult rituals, and religious stuff

The boy could feel his entire body shaking as he was lead to the room. The room that was always locked, that you would be killed for going into without permission.

He'd been told it was for summoning rituals.

He'd been told that he had a special part in a ritual today. They'd been preparing him for it. They'd carved familiar runes into his skin; his arms, his legs, his face, everywhere.

He stared at the floor as they walked, watching the purple robes of the priests swish around their feet, making his dull grey one seem faded and dusty in comparison. You weren't supposed to look up, and he was afraid of what would happen if he broke the rules today, so he kept his head down.

He was always afraid, but he wanted to help. They....they were his family. His friends. The only people he knew, the only people who would accept him. He wanted to help. He'd been so much trouble for them, but today he was going to do his duty. He would do whatever they wanted him to do today.

He tried not to think about the runes. How they still burned in his skin, even though they were days old and should've healed. Their exact purpose. He knew he'd panic and try to run if he thought about it. And if he tried to run, he'd disappoint everyone. He couldn't do that. Not today. Not today...

They stopped suddenly. The boy looked up, and stared straight ahead, mirroring the people around him perfectly. They'd done this so many times, but not with this room. Not with this ritual. He glanced around, not moving his head, just his eyes. He still couldn't see anyone's faces. He hoped his parents were here, but he knew they weren't high ranking enough to wear anything beyond a a grey robe. They would probably be gifted with red ones if this ritual was successful. They'd be proud of him then.

The man in the very front, with gold embroidery on his robe, slowly pushed the door open, just enough for one person to enter through. One by one, the group slipped into the room.

The boy squinted his blue eyes in the darkness. The one with the embroidered robe, the High Priest, stood in the middle, holding a candelabra, as the others formed a circle around him. The boy had been told before that when he entered, he was to stand in front of the high priest, and await further guidance, so he did. He hadn't been told if he was to look at the High Priest's face or not, so he stared straight ahead, and watching the flickering flames on the candles.

He still found it odd that they used such old-timey things. Sure, it was tradition, but there were easier, safer way to light ritual candles now. Surely they could at least try it, at least for minor rituals? And surely they could install electric lighting in here, so they could see as they were lighting the ritual candles, before turning the lights off? It would be much easier than doing it in the dark.

But he stayed silent. Talking was forbidden, and even more so was questioning the proceedings and the High Priest. He's stepped out of line before, but he'd never, ever, ever questioned the High Priest. To do so was to be excommunicated and kicked to the street with only the clothes on your back.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other priests taking out unlit candlesticks as the last few made it to their places in the circle. The very last priest in closed the door, and the entire room was plunged into pitch black darkness, save for the faint light of the High Priest's candelabra.

The High Priest it up and said, "Begin preparing the ritual."

The boy remained still. He had not been told to do anything. He saw the lower priests come forward one by one to light their candles, and returning to the edges of the room.

Four priests lit torches in the corners of the room. The rest slowly lit small ritual candles that were on a ledge that went around the room, at even intervals. Slowly the room lit up, and the boy could see the table behind the High Priest.

It was an engraved rectangular stone slab, big enough for a person to lay on, tilted down slightly and fitted with straps. The engraved runes on the surface were connected by thin grooves, which led down to the bottom of the slab. There was a dark stain on the floor below it.

The boy felt his blood run cold.

Many sacrifices had been made to their lord in this room. And he would not be the last.

He tried to ignore that thought.

At the base of the slab were candles holders, where the lower priests places their candles as they finished their first task. Next to he slab was a lecturn, with a fitted slot for the base of the candelabra, and an open ritual book, already waiting for the High Priest.

Once the priests had returned to their places, the High Priest placed the candelabra in it's spot and turned towards the boy. "Child," he said gently, "Remove your robe."

The boy swallowed hard, but didn't dare disobey the High Priest. He was told he was only to take off his robe when he was alone in his quarters, but rituals always had their own rules. And the High Priest could ask anything he wanted of you.

He pulled off his robe, feeling much colder and naked in his old cotton t-shirt and shorts. The High Priest took his robe from him and folded it carefully, setting it on a shelf on the lecturn. He moved aside, allowing the boy to get a full view of the ritual table. He motioned to it, and the boy slowly climbed up on it, and laid down. The four priests who'd lit the torches came forward and made sure his arms and legs were strapped down tightly.

His breathing was becoming quick and shallow, even as he tried to stay calm. He closed his eyes and told himself that this was good. He'd make everyone proud. He was doing the right thing. It was an honor to be chosen for this position. He was just young, and his mind refuted the idea of death.

"...Are you scared?" the High Priest asked quietly.

The boy looked the High Priest in the eyes. His face was mostly covered, but the boy could see the age lines around his eyes.

The fear slowly melted, though it didn't go away entirely.

"You may speak for a moment, child," the High Priest said.

"...A little." The boy didn't remember the last time he'd spoken. His voice was quiet and scratchy from disuse. That was alright, though. Being loud in any way was forbidden.

The lines around the High Priest's eyes crinkled, as if he was smiling. "As is only natural. But you have no need to fear. You won't die."

You won't die.

The High Priest stood at the lecturn, and instructed the lower priests to begin the ritual. They cut open his shirt and cut the runes in his skin deeper. They hadn't healed, at all, but they'd stopped bleeding. Now, the blood flowed freely again, slowly collecting in the engravings in the stone table. As his blood filled the runes on the table, they started to hum and glow faintly. The boy tried not to make any noise as he was cut. The High Priest hadn't expressly revoked his speaking privilege, but he didn't want to get in trouble if he was supposed to keep quiet. Not now.

You won't die.

As each rune lit up, the markings on the boy's body began to feel uncomfortably hot. The High Priest began chanting as the rest of the priests started preparing the rest of the materials.

A small piece of cloth, deep black and embroidered with silver crescent moons and dark purple apples, was folded carefully and placed over the boy's eyes. He was not to see. He knew what the rest of the materials were, though. Everyone learned of this ritual, in case they'd one day be involved in preparing for it.

You won't die.

Bone ash was spread in a circle across his chest, representing the new moon. Sticks from an apple tree were placed in a star shape inside the circle. The boy tried not to squirm at the sensations.

He'd always wondered what apples had to do with their lord. He still didn't understand. Maybe their lord simply liked apples. He could never ask.

Once the final material preparations had been made, he heard the priests moving away, back to their positions in the circle. The chanting changed. Words of power, of blood, of violence. They all raised their arms as the chanting became louder and louder.

The runes on the boy's body started to burn. He tried to stay quiet, but he couldn't help the whimper that escaped his throat.

You won't die.

The High Priest's voice stood out from the rest, full of conviction and authority. The boy had a moment of admiration for the strength of his faith. He wished he could have as much devotion as the High Priest.

Suddenly the burning sensation increased tenfold. The voices of the priests were drowned in his screams, and he saw something. Despite the blindfold, he could see a hellish landscape. Rivers of fire, of blood, mountains of bones and rock as black as coal. As he could see...something. A vaguely humanoid shape. Something that was not at all human. Its eyes were red. Deep, unsettling red. Its teeth were like needles. Its body was unnaturally thin and long.

It laughed, like it was mocking him. "You've been awfully careless," It said.

This was not Lord Nightmare.

"Did none of you think to make sure your 'lord' was really dead? Come on."

The boy panicked. He tried to warn the priests that something was wrong, but it was already too late.

You won't die.

The creature lunged at the boy, reaching out with one horribly thin, clawed hand, and digging it's claws into his eyes.

The boy could do nothing, and as the fire from his wounds spread to the rest of his body, he could feel his mind being torn to shreds as the demon laughed, making itself comfortable in his body. It tore him from the restraints. The blindfold fell to the floor, and the boy saw people in strange uniforms break down the door to the sacred chamber.

The last thing he saw was the High Priest being shot.

He didn't die. But he is no more.

Alright that's all I got for now. Now you'll all have to wait with whoever's on tumblr for the next bit. also i made a theme for kevin and you should go listen to it (if you want)

there's a link to it in the Horror!DS tag on my tumblr