Page 1 of Unbinding the Demon
Prologue
Stained glass windows corrupted the pristine beams of the full moon, turning them into ghostly myriads of streaming colors. They gleamed into a quaint candlelit library and danced amongst the flickering shadows, creating an ever-twisting display over the aged manuscripts.
Clad in an ebony ceremonial cloak, a woman moved across the floor with steps so light she appeared to float like a specter. At an antique table in the center of the room, she paused. Surrounding her, twelve coven members gathered in a crescent, each of their somber faces cloaked in ritual robes.
She lifted her pale hands to pull back her hood, allowing waves of auburn hair to flow over her shoulders. Her bright emerald-green eyes sparkled with excitement and a hint of madness. Between her breasts rested a shimmering sapphire wrapped in labyrinthine swirls of silver. It twinkled as it reflected the light, glowing like a lucent gem.
She breathed in, finding the courage which sprouted from her budding insanity. Her eyes moved to the woodland mural on the lofty ceiling above. “Is everyone ready?” Her crystalline voice chimed through the silence with a perfect balance of gentleness and sovereignty.
The other coven members nodded and murmured in agreement. A smile graced her blood-red lips, and the room echoed with the sound of a striking match. “Then let us unbind the demon.” The words sealed her fate as she lit a tall black candle resting within a silver stand.
She flipped open an ancient leather-bound book, revealing the page for her diabolical conjuring. The candlelight flickered with intensity across its aged pages, highlighting the strange lines and curves of an encircled demonic sigil and the dreadful malediction written beside it.
With precision, she used a piece of black charcoal to draw the sigil onto the table, omitting the surrounding circle. The circle was meant to trap and imprison the demonic energies, and she was setting them free.
Once finished, she blew away the extra dust and held up a silver dagger. The black handle featured dazzling rubies and an inverted pentagram at the hilt, the blade sharp and glinting in the dim light. An eerie chill settled in the room as the small coven prepared for what was to unfold. Anticipation crackled like static, each heart pounding like the ominous beating of a war drum.
The gleaming blade slid across her palm, its movement measured and cautious. She ignored the sting, allowing her blood to drip down in small crimson rivulets upon the eldritch drawing. The candle flame flickered higher, producing an eerie effect. Her voice rang loud and clear as she began to recite the conjuration. The language that she spoke resembled nothing from this world. It was a menacing and unnatural sound that had no business being heard by earthly ears or spoken by human tongue.
The words invoked a black, shadowy mist. It appeared across the floorboards before her, teeming with an unfathomable darkness like a vortex. It swirled and slithered, resembling a pile of writhing serpents snapping in irritation. Gasps and soft murmurs filled the room as the coven stared in awe and horror.
Some mages took a few wary steps back, unease and disbelief scrawled across their features. The woman’s eyes widened with fear, and her heart pounded hard against her chest. But she spoke even louder and with more force, determined to call forth the ancient demon who dwelled within the great and mysterious abyss.
Black shimmered against black as the deathly mist became thicker. The shadows took shape, coalescing into a formidable figure. He emerged from the harrowing sea of darkness, rising from a crouched position with deliberate slowness, evil echoing in the silence between each spoken word that summoned him.
Twin black horns twisted upon his head, and huge, equally black, dragon-like wings protruded from his shoulder blades. As he rose to his full monstrous height, strands of thick hair draped over his face and cascaded down his muscular torso, resembling inky rivers of midnight. His pale skin was adorned with winding patterns of demonic images and arcane symbols, all etched in black ink. Ebon claws dangled from his fingertips, each one glinting in the dim light to indicate their sharpness.
He was utterly imposing as he straightened out to reveal his extraordinarily handsome face from behind the curtain of dark locks. His gaze found the woman who was still chanting the unbinding spell. Her chant became broken when she peered back into his eyes, for he looked every bit as lethal as he was. Gratitude and admiration for her bravery filled his golden, ember-like eyes as he watched her. The woman continued to stare back at him, her expression reflecting both uncertainty and determination. If all the warnings inside the ancient book were true, she knew this summoning would bring about her death. Anyone who dared to release him would be cursed, but she was willing to take the risk for the knowledge she sought.
However, unbeknownst to them both, another predator lurked in the room that night. He was not a strong, ferocious demon; instead, he was a man with wicked cunning and a hidden agenda. His mage’s hood shrouded the look of detestation he bore for the evil demon. He slunk towards the beast, remaining unseen like a venomous snake slithering through the night. The glinting blade of a poisoned obsidian dagger was drawn from the loose sleeve of his cloak.
Careful not to make a sound, he lifted the weapon over his head, eyes brimming with malice. The dagger flashed with iridescence under the colorful moonbeams and candlelight as he lunged, thrusting the weapon toward the demon’s heart with all his strength. The demon whipped his head around with a growl, sensing the man’s presence seconds before the dagger made impact. A deep, blood-curdling roar tore from the demon’s throat as he leaped to the side, causing the blade to plunge into his left shoulder.
“No! What are you doing!?”the woman shouted in disbelief.
Growling in pain, the demon slashed at the man with his claws, missing by only an inch as the man blundered backward. The demon crashed forward, breaking the table into two splintered halves in a fit of poison-induced vertigo and blinding rage. Ritual tools fell across the floor with a clattering mixture of clangs and thumps. The woman jumped back with a frightened scream. Chaos broke out. Other mages shouted in terror and stumbled over one another as they rushed to retreat from the disastrous ritual.
The demon snarled with malice, baring his sharp fangs as he struggled to regain his footing in search of the man who had attacked him. The world appeared to spin in his dizzied state, yet he still managed to find his attacker. The man’s slender hands trembled as they reached for the ancient book. Their eyes locked for a brief second before the man swiftly swiped it up.
Once again, the demon furiously spun around and tried to rip through the man’s flesh. And once again, he failed due to the poison, slashing through nothing but air. As he whipped around, one of his horned wings struck the trembling woman, tearing her stomach open. The immense force of the impact caused her to fall backward with a cry of pain. Her body slammed into the hard frame of a bookshelf, causing a few of her ribs to crack. She collapsed to the ground, smearing blood across the manuscripts and dripping it onto the floor.
“No!”the man yelled in distress.
His heart welled with sorrow as he took in her fatal injuries, his eyes shifting with fear. Loathing filled his soul as he glanced back at the demon, the wicked creature who was now swaying on his knees with the poisoned dagger embedded in his shoulder. He clutched the book to his chest and dashed out of the library.
The room was soon empty, and the demon was alone. He knelt in this unfamiliar world, disoriented and growling in excruciating pain. In his bewildered and vertiginous state, he fought against the pain while trying to remove the dagger from his bleeding shoulder.
“Belzar!” his deep voice called out, then he mumbled a few curses in Enochian, his native language.
Like a deathly fog, another black cloud swirled in the corner of the room. Massive black paws stepped into view as an enormous undead wolf, born of The Abyss, emerged from its whirling darkness. Uncertainty and fear caused its thick fur to bristle. Drool dripped from the razor-sharp teeth hanging from its sinisterly gaping maw. Incandescent golden eyes, much like the demon’s own, warily shifted to take in the strange and vibrant new world. It was unlike anything it had ever seen before.
“Belzar!”the demon called to it in desperation, snapping the wolf out of its confused and frightened daze.
Sharp, bear-like claws clicked against the floorboards as it pattered over to the injured demon. With a quick sniff from its snout, it inspected the dagger and then clamped its harrowing jaws around the hilt. The demon hissed as the wolf carefully pulled the weapon from his flesh. It left a gaping black wound behind, with little black veins beginning to form around the edges. Poison and blood alike oozed down his arm, searing his flesh with the dark essence.
The wolf dropped the bloody dagger, letting it clank to the floor. The demon muttered hellish words of thanks and explanation as he lovingly stroked the wolf’s soft fur. He was mindful not to touch the fleshless area on its side that revealed pale, jagged ribs. The wolf licked his face like an excited puppy, prompting a soft chuckle from the demon. The injury still burned like acid in his blood, but the disorienting effects of the poison were diminishing. He could finally glance around at his surroundings. The Abyss was a world of eternal darkness, and so the sight of so many colors and the presence of light once again overwhelmed him.
His moment of beguilement didn’t last long, though. The pained gasps of the injured woman floated through the room. He glanced at her with curiosity. Crimson rivulets were trickling out of her mouth and dripping onto her hands, which held her lacerated stomach together.
