The young girl's fragile form trembled with pain, causing her to whimper softly. Her mother held her tightly, swaying back and forth in an attempt to soothe her. In the dimly lit chamber, they faced a mysterious man seated upon a throne fashioned from macabre skulls. His menacing gaze fell upon the woman, whose modest, tattered clothing and emaciated figure betrayed a life of hardship.
" Please, save her," the mother implored, her voice quivering with desperation.
"They poisoned her drink. She won't survive without your help, Dark King." Tears streamed down her face, a stark display of her anguish.
Yet, the man in the shadows remained unmoved.
"What makes you believe my blood can save her?" he inquired, his voice steeped in darkness, azure eyes narrowing with suspicion.
His blood was a lethal force, sparing none who dared to taste it. For a mere child, it would be a torment beyond imagination.
"I've exhausted every other option. You're our last hope," the woman pleaded, her voice breaking as she approached him.
She now stood directly before him, and for the first time, he took a closer look at the girl. A sense of conflict welled within him as he beheld the pitiable creature. The child possessed a delicate, heart-shaped face with plump cheeks, though it was ghostly pale. Her light brown hair, damp with the sweat of her fevered struggle, clung to her forehead. She was dressed in stark contrast to her mother, adorned in a pristine gown of deep blue, clean and well-cared for-a stark testament to her innocence and love. Gasping for breath, her frail lungs struggled to keep pace. It was an injustice that such malevolence had targeted such purity. Anger coursed through him, a throbbing ache in his chest. He reached out and gently brushed aside the damp locks clinging to her sweaty brow. The moment his fingers touched her, a shock of sensation surged through him-an enduring, unyielding pain. He sensed her teetering on the precipice between realms.
" I cannot help you," he declared, rising to an imposing height and turning away from them.
The gravity of the situation weighed heavily upon him, but he knew the agony his blood would inflict, and a child should never endure such torment.
"No, no, I implore you, please!" the mother cried, falling to her knees, her arms still cradling her child.
Her desperate pleas echoed through the chamber, falling upon deaf ears, but her cries were far from over. Just as he approached the arched exit, a piercing, mournful screech from the rafters arrested his movement. The sound reverberated through the throne room, sending shivers down his spine. He turned just in time to witness a majestic creature swoop down from its perch, landing gracefully before them. This was Dysis, the griffin, her pristine white feathers gleaming in the dim light. She screeched once more, a sound imbued with sorrow. Her golden eyes fixated on the child, and as she drew near, the mother shrank back in terror. The griffin screeched again, her wing feathers ruffling and beginning to unfurl.
"Stay perfectly still," he cautioned the mother. "Dysis will perceive you as a threat if you move."
With trepidation, the mother complied, clutching her daughter even tighter. The griffin halted just a hair's breadth from the child's face and lowered her beak to tenderly brush it across the girl's cheek-an unexpected display of affection.
"What is it, Dysis?" he whispered, approaching the griffin. She lifted her head, fixing her golden eyes upon him, filled with anguish.
"She needs your blood," Dysis stated solemnly. The knowledge of what his blood would inflict on the child surged through him, but Dysis had claimed her. There was no other choice.
" So be it," he conceded aloud, his voice strained. It was a mercy, a hope that the girl would find release from her suffering. Turning to the mother, who was still sobbing uncontrollably, he crouched down before them.
"Pass me the child," he murmured. The woman's grip loosened hesitantly, and she placed her daughter into his waiting arms. The girl was eerily light and cold. With a stronger hold, he stood and carried her to his throne. The silence in the chamber became oppressive, and he could no longer detect the girl's shallow breath-only the relentless thud of his own heart. Nestling her in the crook of his arm, he sliced his palm with his fangs, allowing the dark blood to pool in his hand.
"Open her mouth," he instructed. The mother, trembling, followed his command without question.
Carefully, he allowed the bitter liquid to flow into the girl's mouth. The moment the metallic taste touched her tongue, she writhed, attempting to spit it out. He used his still-wounded hand to keep her jaw closed. Her eyes snapped open, wide with fear, sea-green orbs meeting his gaze. For a fleeting moment, it felt as if her stare pierced through him-an unsettling sensation.
"It's alright, little one. Stay calm," he whispered soothingly, careful not to frighten her further.
Something in his voice reached her, and the fight slowly drained from her body. She slumped against his chest, nodding weakly. He released her jaw, and she swallowed the bitter liquid. Once more, he offered his bloody palm, and this time, she accepted it, watching him intently. After three mouthfuls, he pulled away, licking his palm, the jagged wound sealing over with a scar. Now, all he could do was wait for the inevitable-a life overtaken by the power of his blood. It didn't take long. Her body convulsed violently, and he felt her pain reverberating through him, the effects consuming her. Her eyes rolled back, and blood streamed from her nose.
"No!" the mother cried out.
"Be at peace, little one," he whispered, feeling her go limp in his arms. A pang of despair touched his embittered heart.
YOU ARE READING
Shadows Sacrifice
Paranormal"In a world ruled by a mysterious figure known as the Dark King, a young girl's life hangs in the balance after she's poisoned. Her desperate mother seeks the Dark King's help. The story explores themes of sacrifice, mercy, and the enduring battle b...
