Desolation //Imp Tweek x Pastor Craig //

Crimson.

'Uh... does this still work if you've killed him?'

'He ain't dead, look the good priest is just stirring now... He didn't want to miss the party! Wakey, wakey now Pastor Tucker! We've a surprise for you!'

'Urgh... Whu-what..?'

Green eyes rolled forward, blinking, trying to make out shapes in the dark through blurred vision. It was fuzzy. Everything in the young pastors body screamed, every single muscle fibre ached. As he tried to lift his head, he let out another disgruntled moan. You've gotta get up, Craig. The dried blood on his lower face itched, he could still taste the copper as his lips and features moved. Instinctively - he went to brush his face with a hand to try and comfort his current discomfort, however he found he could no longer move.

Arms pinned above his head by his wrists, ankles also bound. He tried to wriggle and fight his restraints but to no avail. Just then, his senses began to feel more alive and with that he realised he wasn't pinned to the floor or a table and he was no longer in his church. Instead he was bound to a wooden board, splinters etched his skin on his wrists as he moved, his beaten body was suspended upon a ceiling of what he assumed was someone's basement. It was damp, cold and reeked of alcohol mixed with cheap scented candles.

His kidnapper was below him, looking up at Craig, his features were darkened but Craig could still make out that disturbed smile. Others were stood further back, three maybe four more. He couldn't trust his gaze right now. Candles filled the edges of the room, giving it an eery glow - their light dancing on the walls. Below his attackers feet was something drawn out in red paint (at least he hoped that was red paint) - something very unholy.

'You...' Craig began to utter, finding some strength to hold himself up to face the deranged man below him. 'You could just let me go... I won't say anything... Like none of this ever happened?' It was a plea... He didn't want to die here. 'Please... If you could find it in your hear-'

'Find it in your heart... Blah, blah, blah...I can offer you salvation... Blah, blah, blah...' The man mocked him, pinching his fingers to his thumbs to mimic Craig's words. 'Can it, Tucker.' The man growled. 'It's time to rid the world of you god bothers for once and for all... We're disciples of Satan, we're bringing in a new age - hell on Earth! This is our Ragnarok!'

Craig's brow furrowed. 'Ragnarok is Norse Gods dipshit...' He retorted. Great, he was going to die to a dumbass.

'I said shut it!' The man snarled back before out stretching his arm behind him, a hand laid flat as if asking for something. 'And such foul language from a man of the cloth... I'm sure the man upstairs won't take too kindly to such profanity.' His smile grew as another member of the party stepped forward, handing something to him. The glint of metal in the flame light told Craig that this wasn't just to cut him down.

After the exchange was made, the man grew closer to Craig. He now bared the knife before him, bringing it closer to Craig's torso. The man grabbed a handful of Craig's clothing and began cutting, tearing it alway from his body - revealing his bare skin beneath. 'Not the jumper...' Craig breathed, watching it be torn away from him. It was something of great sentiment to him, now it was tatters on the floor.

'I'm sorry Pastor... But we're going to need a bit of your blood, just to really get this party started.' The man then swiftly swept his blade across Craig's chest without hesitation, forcing Craig to recoil - his back arching as the searing pain forced its way through his body. He let out a cry, this only prompted the man to take his knife to him again. This time, across his stomach.

'St-stop... STOP!' Craig yelled, though painful to do. 'Please... Stop...' he was back to begging. It was agony mixed with heat - he couldn't look - he only assumed the man had disembowelled him.

'Pray...' He man's face drew as close as possible to his own. 'I said pray, goddammit!' He barked at Craig, spittle reaching his cheeks.

It was a last ditch effort.

'Hev-heavenly father... I seek you... may the wind... wind of your spirit... ARGHHH!'

The knife found his side. Plunged to the hilt. There was no going back now, no escape. The pain was too much. Craigs body slumped against his restraints. His crimson blood dripped upon the floor beneath him. While still conscious, he made silent prayer for his family and for himself. This had to be it. What a short fucking life.

The man, still grinning, took a step out of his make shift summoner and joined the rest of his clan. Together, their voices joined in a twisted choir of chanting. Craig could not make heads nor tails of it in his disoriented state, all he knew that this was it and he'd be the sacrifice to whatever thing or things they were raising. With that, his eyes fluttered shut one last time - waiting for the darkness to consume him once more.

Blood splattered the etching beneath his limp body. And it began to glow.