Outcry
by Robert M. Velkym

   She struggled to stand as she was bound by chains at the door of some underground temple. Two hooded figures stood on either side of her and held her by her upper arms. The black wooden door was a ominous presence among the three, the only thing that could be seen was a sickly yellow light creeping out from underneath and a low mellow chanting drifting from behind the door. Upon its black surface was brazen with the inscription, " Enkil is life. Have no fear!!" The voices of the room grew louder and they began to scream, then they stopped and there was a lone call for the sacrifice.

   The door creaked open on the stale old rusted hinges. She looked up from the floor with spinning vision toward the front of the room to see a black hooded figure floating 3 feet off the ground with arms spread, in front of a dark blood red altar.

   "Bring our guest forward." He snarled, as he began another chant.

   The two hoods forced the stunned girl up and lead her to the altar.

   "Strap her down." The man said in a monotone voice of meditation. They lay her limp body down upon the altar and positioned her head down into a niche carved into the red stone. One of the men grabbed a leather strap and rapped it around her head, holding it taunt. Then they bound her arms at the wrists and her legs at the ankles, each time tightening the leather bands until they almost cut the skin.

   " Schwarze Nächte holen den Bediensteten des Schicksals zum Licht des Teufels..." The chant began and rose into the air like the soft burning incense.

   "The life everlasting is drawn from the Virgin blood!" the man said in a every growing voice of power. He reached in side his robe to pull out a long thin blade with a bone handle. He slowly lowered the blade to her throat and pricked her soft, smooth skin. A small trickle of blood flowed down her neck into a small channel running the length of the altar.

   At the channels end waited a figure in a red robe with a skull painted upon his shinny sweat drenched face. His hand waiting so patiently with a gold chalice to collect the blood running off the altar. The knife descended a second time to cut the artery in her neck. Her body twitched sideways as she stirs from her oblivious stupor. Blood gushes out of the wound and raced off to its destination. The life blood poured from her, filling cup after cup with her blood. The skull painted man turned and hand the first cup to the cultist mass, the cups pass among the people gathered and they drink it down making the sign of the cross backwards.

   "Drink my children." The priest lowered his head to her neck and began to suck the girl's life blood from her macerated throat. He raised his mouth and smiles to his god, blood dribbling down his chin, dripping onto her face. He raised his arms and cried out loud. His voice penetrating everyone there and whipping out all lighting in the room, diminishing it down to two candles a blaze in the still silence of the transfixed audience. A red glow stricken forth from the puddle of blood on the altar. In the darkness the soft breathing of death stirs the remaining candles, and the red light flares. Behold the beast!

   It stood in the in the soft glow of the ancient candles. It's massive maw, that of a wolf, and it's 6 arms flailing about its body like a Hindu statue, stood above the cult. His maw dripping black liquor onto the tiled floor. The priest steps forward to speak. The creature turned its gaze upon him, and narrowed his already slanted eyes. With lightning quickness the beast jumped across the altar to land on the priest’s shoulders and grab hold of the his head. With little effort the creature squeezed it. Brains splattered across the room as a muffled pop released his eyes from their sockets. The beast reached for the priests limp arm, taking hold he ripped it from its housing in the body and commenced to eat it. The black mass began its chant and the creature leaned back and released a roar that touched the souls of all present.

   The creature chattered with a voice that sound as a bug walking upon a glass table. It stood upon the fallen priest and waves his hands in archaic shapes and symbols. Its body shook as its eyes widened and took on an almost greenish luminescence. It reached its hands toward the group and cried out "SHAZAM!"

   The air become hot and energized. "SHAZAM!" He cried out again, the heat intensified and the crackle of power surged through every person in the room. The closest persons to this evil embodiment clasp their now bleeding ears. The creature began to chatter again and the crowd wailed in agony as their bodies contorted as if dancing to a demonic song against their wills.

   "May this be a lesson to you all!" It clapped his hands and their heads exploded in gory bursts. The creature laughed and smiled to himself. It looked about the room, with a shaking disappointed glance, then noticed the girl. It reached down gently to touch her chest. A warm red glow spread over her body, as her eyes fluttered and finally opened to a muffled cry for help. It untied her and helped her to her feet.

   "Don't they know that the sacrifice is not to be tied up against it will. Damn them all. Go now, you are free." It laughed to itself as it spoke.

   She stood up and took off out the door back. She ran to the real world where demons and magic are buried in the routines and monotony of modern human life. As she ran the events faded into a blurred dream of a movie she once saw but couldn’t remember.