The world slipped away.
The corners of my sight began to stretch out like black veins, tearing. Blood was lying down below me on the cold temple rock--thick, sticky and warm--my life trickling out at a slow, regular strokes of the broken stub where my hand had been. I watched my calf burn and shred the muscle in the cold air, screaming with wet fire. Every breath was rattling, shallow and weak. My heart puddered as a choking engine that was trying to move its last time.
The monster hadn't left.
It pawed impatiently close to the entrance. All those eyes were flaming in the gloom--mid maw gilted open in a silent sneer, smaller demon-heads chirping in the shaking mane. The red bunting was moving like fresh-blood.
Then it stepped closer.
One great paw went over the invisible line.
The chain that encircled its tail the jeweled chain jangled.
Mockingly.
Another step. Then another.
The great striped body of it dropped, with muscles shaken--holy--as though it were upon sacred soil. It approached me gradually, enjoying it.
No...
No, fucking no--
I tried to crawl. Attempted to pull myself farther into the temple, nails scratching, to no avail, against stone. My body refused to obey. Limbs heavy as lead.
Wake up, you idioc of a man.
Don't you dare close your eyes.
But the darkness was warm. Seductive. Dragging me off like sinking into dead water.
The final image I could see was that nightmare face coming nearer, breath hot and rank, all those eyes squarely upon me with old hunger.
Then--
Nothing.
I woke in nothing.
No ground. No sky. Only a great blank, stifling chasm squeezeing me between the wet velvet. I couldn't even see my own body. I raised the rest of my hand before my face and perceived only more shadowiness.
Panic clawed up my throat.
"Am I dead?" My voice sounded apathetically, distorted, swallowed and sent back false. Is this the afterlife? The fucking afterlife?
I swiveled around and looked about. Light. Shape. Direction.
Nothing.
"Fuck!" I cried out into the empty space. Motherfucking cock-gobbling cock-stain of a universe--all that running, all that blood you put me in this dark hole of a place, after all? You applicantless, genitaless, cunt-faced, cosmogonic rubbish--
The curses came out of me, uncouth and creative. I cursed the tiger. The forest. The gods. Fate. My own existence. I spit out all the nasty mixtures that I could come up with until I had a sore throat and my voice broke.
Then--
I saw her.
Sometime long distant--or very near; distance was no object here--there was a throne growing out of the space. hewn out of black, more black than the black around him. Its contours twisted like live smoke, and ingested character.
And on it--
Her.
Pale skin like moonlit bone. Black cosmetics run down her features like the spurt of ink or hardened blood, black shadow depressing her eyes to endless depths that sucked me. Black lips curved in a smile which was not a smile.
Dark hair fell down under a deep hood. Occult, ancient Runes were painted upon her directly upon the skin. She was tattooed: skulls, thorns, figures of signs that changed with the blink of the eye. Her hands were raised slightly, and the fingers were pointed with long, razor black claws.
Between her breasts hung an inverted cross, which was heavy.
She was dressed in black as her second skin.
The sense of awe struck me as a kind of physical strike.
And beneath it--terror.
Primal. Instinctive. My knees wanted to buckle. My soul screamed to flee. I did not dare to keep her eyes a moment longer--it was fitting to peep at the end of everything.
A voice was heard in the darkness. low. good humoured.
Why should a mortal who just entered into the world of ascension want anything with me?
I tried to answer. No sound came.
No...
How did a mortal get here?
Her gaze pinned me.
I--I do not know, I croaked at last. "I woke up here. I cannot recall anything more of it.
She was all of a sudden standing in front of me.
No motion. No warning. Just there.
She turned round and round, with every step I felt my wild heart crushing. I was forced under her foot, inoculated with incense, ozone, something that was impossibly ancient.
Not lying, you are not, she said to herself, voice like velvet on broken glass. "Interesting. And you are right it was your blood that caught my eye.
She stopped.
"The blood of a mortal."
Her head tilted.
"Now... where is your sacrifice?" Her tone turned inviting. Almost gentle. "Or do you come empty-handed?" A pause. then, indeed... thou shalt be the sacrifice.
Cold terror flooded me.
"You can have my so--"
"Oh?" She interrupted, amused. Your blood had already invited the Ashtunda tiger into my temple. That could count."
She leaned closer. Cold radiated from her skin.
Or do you still desire to sacrifice your soul?
Every instinct screamed no.
Say no, you fucking idiot.
Say it.
My mouth refused to move. Jaw locked. I shouted in my own head, and squeezed all the remaining strength of my will--
And shook my head violently.
She smiled.
Slow. Terrible.
"Okay," she said softly. "Your loss."
Her hand settled on my head.
Cold.
The wisdom was streaming down like ice water, flashes of holy stone, my blood dripping into antique seals, the presence of the tiger splitting something ancient.
Thoughtful she talked of herself.
"The spell worked then. Interesting... then this is real and not real at the same time." A soft laugh. That turns out to mean either I am dead... or I am sealed.
She hummed.
"I highly doubt I am dead."
Her hand lifted. Void-eyes locked onto mine.
So, young man--small though your sacrifice--rejoice.
She bent over, and her lips touched my ear.
"You will become my chosen one."