Dragon royalties.

Narrator's pov:

He walked into the cave. The griffins bowing at his presence, he walked into the deepest part of the cave, the walls closing in, the darkness seeping into him, the sound of distant water dripping. He walked up to an altar. A young girl tied to it, screaming to be freed, the screams serve as music to his ears. He gets closer to her, his hand on her throat as he opens his mouth and black smoke emits her body going into him.

The brunette angel, now a pile of dead organs, limp as it is thrown among other dead bodies of innocent people, symbols of goat heads on their bodies. He sat on his throne made out of sharp metal swords and bones, his eyes pitch black. "𝕻𝖆𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖒, 𝕽𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖚𝖒 𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖚𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖒 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖒," said a Griffin as he bowed in front of him, Being the news bearer. Amalo grinned mischievously. "Ah Aluna, Let the hunt begin."

Meanwhile, a group of friends in their late 20's, laughing together, camping in the woods. Having the time of their lives, they're oblivious to the how their lives are about to shift.

"We'll get through this, we always do."

Warning⚠ Mentions of blood, death, and swearing.