Diabolist Part One
Kevin wiped his brow, blowing out a held breath as he studied the chalk outline he’d been painstakingly working on for the last three hours.
Three interconnected circles within a triangle, all surrounded by writing unknown by almost all of man; the summoning circle was almost done. Smiling to himself, Kevin gave himself a pat on the back for his hard work.
Soon, he’d have the gifts his heart desired, his just rewards for years spent as a silent worshipper of the dark gods. Symbols of Shalim and Mawat ran along the triangles equidistant lines, with the third line traced with prayers to Astorath. The three demonic princes rarely worked together, but Kevin was certain her could get what he needed from the otherworldly evil, assuming he had enough to sacrifice.
Looking back behind him at the three unconscious women he’d taken so long to study and gather, he felt he had enough to work with to entice the cooperation of the denizens of Hell. After all, all the writings on the gods said that they prized sacrifices over anything, with women being the most prized of all. Astorath preferred women of loose morals while Shalim preferred virgins; Shalim desired a woman of faith, especially if she was Catholic.
Heather Winters was a cheerleader at his school, one who’d been with at least five guys by her own admission during one of their… sessions. Torture had also revealed the strawberry blonde fourteen-year-old Lauren to be a virgin, her only sexual partner being her hand on lonely nights. The pious Elizabeth was one of the most vocal people about her religion that Kevin had ever met before, a trait that had annoyed the hell out of him as he attended classes with her. She always found a way to preach at Kevin, as if she knew he was a follower of the Old Ways.
Perhaps she could sense it?
It didn’t matter… soon enough they’d be fodder for his ritual.
The book he’d obtained (“Thank you eBay!”) had been quite clear about the specifics of the ritual: a sacrifice to the fel deity of your choosing to create power untold. Kevin figured by making a sacrifice to each, he could make himself three times as powerful!
Standing up, the burly teen began transferring the unconscious women over, placing them in their respective circles. Using a silver-plated knife, he cut each of their palms and allowed the blood to dribble onto a smaller circle within the larger circles; this would alert the Netherworld of what he was doing, once he began the incantation.
After depositing Elizabeth, he checked over the chalk outlines to make sure they were still intact and as perfect as he’d originally made them. Once satisfied, Kevin began disrobing until he was in the buff.
The ritual required the Diabolist to be “Skyclad”, as clothes were unnatural, thus an impediment to the greater evils attempts to grant the caster’s desires. Standing nude before the women, Kevin felt slightly ashamed. Quashing the feeling, he went and picked up the book to read the rest of the instructions.
Twenty minutes later, he stood with the book opened to the correct page on a music stand, obtained from when he was in the marching band in his sophomore year. With silver knife in hand, he began chanting in the ancient tongue of the damned, invoking the powers of Hell to grant him his desires. Using the silver knife, he slit his palm and allowed blood to pool in his hand.
“To Astorath I offer the soul of the wanton!” He called, throwing his blood over Heather, the spattering droplets sizzling as they touched her skin.
“To Mawat, I offer the soul of the pure!” Again, the blood was thrown onto his sacrifice, and again, the blood sizzled.
“To Shalim, I offer the soul of the pious!” This time, the blood actually smoldered where it landed, singing Elizabeth’s skin enough to jar her awake. Blinking, she looked around before letting loose a scream at the sight of a naked man standing over her in a room lit by dozens of black wax candles.
“Oh my God!” She cried, struggling to stand. For some reason, she felt as if she had a great weight pressing down upon her, making her limbs feel as if they were made of lead. “What are you doing? Who are you?”
Kevin ignored her, raising his arms to be continue the prayer. Slowly, the air around them grew thick while the candles flickered from a wind not felt. The triangle began to glow an unearthly light while the blood thrown upon the women began to evaporate. Elizabeth began screaming for help, screams which intensified as she began to sink into the concrete beneath her as if it were quicksand.
Kevin smiled at the sight; all three women were slowly being pulled beneath the cement as if it were a bog. Tiny hands, each bearing two fingers ending in wicked claws, emerged from the mire and hooked the bodies, drawing blood and pulling them down faster. Elizabeth was pleading now, begging God to save her.
No such luck I’m afraid, Kevin thought. Finishing up the incantation, Kevin could feel a tangible pulse of magic rocket forth from the triangle, just as the girls were finally pulled beneath the rippling cement. Slowly, new figures began to rise from the much, covered in dripping gray water. Each was roughly the same size as the women he’d sent to Hell, though they were all standing.
Each one grew and grew, dripping ichor as they slowly rose from the murky depths. Once they’d finally stopped growing, Kevin could see each was a lovely woman with red skin, glowing yellow eyes, and curved black horns reminiscent of a ram, with a curtain of black hair cascading down their naked forms.
As one they looked around, speaking to each other in their harsh language with rapid fire growls and grunts. They all bore claws that they extended, seemingly ready to fight one another. As the last of the gray waste slipped off their frames, Kevin could see resting between their heaving breasts the symbol of each dark god, one per demonic entity.
Kevin cleared his throat, gathering their attention. “Hello ladies,” he said, trying to act as confident as possible. “I assume you know each other?”
“We know of each other…” the one marked with Astorath’s symbol growled, baring white fangs. “Why have you summoned all three of us? Such an act is blasphemy, even to our Lords!”
“I summoned all three as I assumed you could each offer me something I wanted,” Kevin said, thinking fast. He hadn’t known appealing to all the gods at once would cause a problem. “I offered souls to bring you here, and will offer you more to the one that offers me the best deal.”
“Deal for what, pray tell?” Shalim’s symbol asked.
“Why, power of course! In life I’m ignored, and I want to change that. I want the power to crush those who’ve made fun of me without being caught, and to seduce the women who’ve spurned me. I want the powers of Hell to be at my beck and call, allowing me to corrupt those who would otherwise be untainted. I’m willing to serve, just only to the one that offers me the best deal.”
“We should kill you for this travesty!” Mawat’s champion growled before Shalim’s waved a hand.
“My Lord can offer, in exchange for your service, the ability to tap into the Ether and the use of magic,” she said. “We would even gift you with a Grimoire to begin your collection of spells, so long as you made regular sacrifices to us.”
“How regular?” Kevin asked.
“Yearly, every Devil’s Night,” Shalim’s servant replied.
“But what would magical power be without a tutor?” Astorath’s demon asked with a husky voice. “We would offer the same as well as tell you the name of one who would be willing and able to teach you how to bend the will of man and break the laws of God at your very whim!”
“For an annual sacrifice?” Kevin asked.
“We… we would need a significant sacrifice in order to seal the bargain,” she replied, earning a scoff from the other two demonesses.
“How significant?” Kevin asked.
“Every year you would have to get someone to fall in love with you. Then on the Summer Equinox you would offer them to us.”
“That seems a little… difficult,” Kevin said with careful consideration. He didn’t want to upset these creatures, as he wasn’t certain what they were exactly.
“Ah yes, that would be difficult for you,” Mawat’s demoness cut in, earning a glare from the other two. “But why settle for merely tapping into the Ether, when my Lord can make you a well of Ethereal energy?”
“A well?” Kevin repeated.
“Yes, a place where the Ether builds up, charging you like a battery. You would have easier access to the mystical energies and would require less training. The only catch would be that you would have to bond with a servant of my Lord.”
“Bond? With you?” Kevin asked, feeling his heart race a little. The demoness was beautiful, with a taut stomach and heavy breasts. Coupling with her would be… fun, to say the least.
The fel creature chuckled. “I can see that I interest you, but no. We would merely require a piece of your soul to be replaced with the essence of our Lord, what you would refer to as an Imp.”
An Imp… the messengers of Hell and servants to true Diabolists… Kevin thought. I’ve only read about them, and the books always warn of their foul temperaments and ravenous hunger. Still…
“How would I control the Imp?” Kevin asked.
The demoness smiled. “By feeding it of course. It would need to consume your blood, or the blood of a worthy sacrifice to my Lord, to continue acting as a conduit for the energies you would receive. It could even teach you how to use the power that would be flowing through your veins.”
Kevin thought for a moment before smiling. “Alright,” Kevin said. He pointed to the heralds of Shalim and Astorath. “You two are dismissed back to Hell from whence you came!”
The two frowned, scowling at Kevin as if he’d just insulted them before slowly fading from sight. The remaining demoness looked on Kevin with proud eyes. “You’ve chosen wisely, Diabolist. As an added bonus, to promote your desire to build power, my Lord will impart knowledge into the Imp about where you can locate a Grimoire for your own needs. Until you acquire one, your power will serve as a means to an end, acting as an extension of your will. While not nearly as refined as a shaped spell, it will be able to charm those who would scorn you, harm those who hurt you, and defend you should you be in danger.”
“And this incentive to make more sacrifices… what do I get from continued service?” Kevin asked.
The demoness frowned, though her features were quickly masked with a smile. “A fraction of their natural lifespan should seem sufficient, yes? For every sacrifice, you will gain one year of robust health onto your current lifespan. Continued sacrifices will continue your life, and the Imp will serve you as long as you live, delivering your soul to Mawat upon your death.”
“Hmmm… would I be consigned to Hell for this?” Kevin asked, suddenly dreading the answer.
A smirk graced the fel creature’s features. “No, you would not be thrown into the Pit. You would serve Mawat in death as you will in life, just in an aspect that you would not truly understand yet. Be assured you would not be tormented by this role in the afterlife.”
“Alright,” Kevin said after a moment. “I’ll make a pact with Mawat for what you’ve offered.”
The demoness smiled. “I knew you would…”
And with that Kevin fell into darkness, dropping to the hard floor as if he’d been struck in the back of the head.