I awoke on a cold floor groggily to the sound of chanting. It was a language I didn't understand.
When I blinked the blurriness away, I found that I was tied up in the center of a pentagram as the three men stood over me. I tried to scream upon seeing a large knife gleaming in the low light, held in the hands of one of the robed figures, and found tape over my mouth.
Managing to free one of my hands, it flew out and knocked over a glass bottle holding a candle. Fire spilled over the floor as the glass shattered and I grabbed the neck of the bottle as I tried pushing away from them.
I had barely noticed the shards of glass drawing warm blood under my palm as I crouched to defend myself.
One of them swore, lurching toward me and I slashed the air with the glass. He jumped back and I found that I had been backed into the corner, praying to anyone to save me.
But who would? It seemed I was in a dank basement with no one around to help me.
With all the prayers I could've sent, I didn't expect any answers. But, I prayed there was someone there in the dark of the night that heard me, even promising whoever heard me lifetime devotion. I didn't want to die here, in this dark basement where no one would ever find me.
Blood smeared over the pentagram drawn on the floor, fire licked at the men's feet and I was losing hope that any God could hear me.
When the fire grew nearly out of control, a barrier was set between me and the men. When I swore the fire would devour me, I realized it wasn't the fire that was glowing, but the pentagram.
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The Summoning
FanfictionMaking a deal with the God of Sleep wasn't exactly on my bingo card, but neither was getting caught up in a sacrificial ritual. The four men in masks saved me only to bring me to their own church of worship, telling me I can't go home because of th...
