The Ash Hollow Curse

Chapter 17: The Unholy Feast

Before Simon could react, a shriek tore through the lair, louder and more horrific than anything he had heard before. It echoed in his skull, and suddenly, the lair exploded with movement. From the cracks in the floor, twisted, skeletal hands emerged, clawing their way up from the Abyss.

The reapers had returned.

Their bodies were even more grotesque than before—warped and misshapen, their skin pulled tight over twisted bones. Their mouths gaped open, rows of jagged teeth snapping hungrily as they swarmed Simon. Their eyes glowed with a malevolent hunger, and the stench of rot filled the air as they moved, their claws dripping with the blood of the countless souls they had devoured.

Simon backed away, his hand going to his gun, though he knew it would do no good. There were too many of them. The reapers swarmed over the altar, tearing at the cracks in the stone, clawing at the black ooze that seeped from the gateway.

And then, from the darkness beyond the lair, the demon emerged.

Its body was even more twisted than before, its form barely holding together as it staggered toward Simon. Its eyes, burning with hatred, locked onto him.

"You thought you could bind me, human," it growled, its voice a horrible mixture of countless voices speaking as one. "You thought you could escape. But you belong to me. You always have."

The demon lunged at Simon, its claws slashing through the air. Simon dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack. But he wasn't fast enough. The demon's claws caught his leg, tearing through muscle and bone. Simon screamed as pain exploded through his body, blood gushing from the wound.

The demon dragged itself forward, its body falling apart as it moved, chunks of rotten flesh sloughing off its bones. But it didn't matter. The hunger that drove it was insatiable. It would consume Simon, just as it had consumed the others.

Simon crawled backward, his leg useless, leaving a trail of blood as he moved. The reapers circled him, their mouths gnashing as they closed in.

This was the end.

Suddenly, something shifted in the lair. The ground trembled again, and the cracks in the altar widened. From deep within the Abyss, a sound like the roar of a thousand tortured souls erupted, and the black ooze surged upward, enveloping the altar in a wave of dark energy.

The demon howled, its form flickering and distorting as the energy pulsed through the lair. The reapers screeched and scattered, their bodies dissolving into ash as the energy consumed them.

Simon watched in horror as the demon's body was pulled apart by the dark energy, its flesh ripped from its bones, its form collapsing in on itself. But the demon didn't die.

It was being reborn.