The Witching Hour | ✎

seven

a/n: part two of the early double update!

seven

🔮 — 🔮

She landed with a hard thud, the impact jolting the entire side of her body.

Callie screwed her face up in a scowl as pain bloomed, though she forced herself to move until she sat upright, nails scratching against cold gravel as she shoved herself upright again. It always took a while for her eyes to adjust to the Dark Realms, where light was sparse — almost nonexistent.

A chilling wind blew across her cheeks, carrying with it the sound of haunting sighs from people she couldn't see — if you could even call them people.

Callie pressed her palms flat against the ground, clambering to her feet as she swayed, before righting her balance. Her eyes swept the dark, barren plains around her — it looked like Level 2, alright. It was a wasteland in this particular Dark Realm — just endless dark grey plains where only gravel was stirred by the cold winds perpetually shifting the damp air.

In some parts of Level 2, the grey rock of the ground jutted up in massive spikes shaping a bizarre landscape, where demons could skulk around the bottom of the rock formations, hiding in the deepest pockets of dark. Squinting at her surroundings, Callie held up a hand to shield her eyes from the gravel swirling by in a strong gust of wind.

That was when she saw it — a pale, grinning face that was staring at her with wide eyes and an open jaw that revealed a row of sharp teeth. Her heart stopped dead, fear drumming wildly as she held that gaze.

The demon stepped closer, and she could see it more clearly. The pale face was oddly humanoid, though the pockets for eyes were filled with a leaking, black fluid that tracked dark tears down its hollowed cheeks. The teeth were sharp, too big for the thin-lipped mouth that hung open in that eerie grin.

"Imagine my surprise —" It started, moving closer in a lazy tempo, " — when I heard the call of a bloodwitch."

Callie swallowed bile, eyes skipping over the back of its head, where bone-white elongations from its skull formed sharp spikes edged with a dark red. It moved closer, now, and she saw that a black, tattered suit hung from its bony, hunched form — her eyes skipped over it, noting instead the dark claws of its hands, more than capable of severing her head from her body should she make a mistake.

"I am in need of The Searcher," Callie forced her voice to remain firm despite the terror gripping every inch of her body, "Is that you?"

A cold, grating laugh appeared from its throat. Its entire form shook, those glinting teeth moving closer. The shadows shifted around it, drowning the two of them in a dark mist that obscured even the slightest hint of their surroundings.

"What a fanciful name you have for me today, bloodwitch." Gravel scraped against the ground as the demon slithered closer, " — but yes, I am the one you witches know as Bilemoth."

Callie felt her nails dig further into her palms as she regarded the demon. Bilemoth cocked its head, watching her with those deep pools of black which speared her very soul, sending a jolt of pain through where her heart was beating hard.

"I know you are here to bargain, bloodwitch." Bilemoth's mouth widened, exposing the yellowed edges of those razor-sharp teeth, " — ask your question, and I shall respond however I see fit."

Another cackle from the demon made shivers criss-cross down her spine. Every sane inch of her screamed for Callie to get away — to return home, and to never, ever, return. She shoved the worries aside, focusing only on the thought Moone.