The cult gathered in the dark,
beneath the earth;
through twisting caverns.
Torches burn in sconces,
the alter alight by flame.
The smell of putrid water
hangs thick in the air,
mangled with the scents of blood..
and corpses.
The chant begins slowly
as todays unconcous sacrafice
is tied to the stone slab.
The athame's cut lets blood flow freely,
down the grooves
to trickle from a small hole
into the fetid water.
Another cut,
a higher crescendo,
heartbeats bring a gush of loss
fading life so frail.
No more breath;
spirits gone,
silence now remains.
A gurgeling echoes through the chamber;
their lord is coming soon,
hailing from the depths.
Knelt in reverence,
dark prayers ensue.
Kathulu rises with a roar;
not man nor beast
but abomination.
Evil eyes stare at the high priest;
"what is your request"?
Power for the coven my lord.
"In slumber you will wander,
in spirit I will teach
the seven gates to power,
across the heavens they do reach".
Kathulu descends as he reaches out
collecting his offering.
A snack for later. |
Submission Name: Summoning
