Crimson Flow (Temporary Title)

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What if there are gods around us? They may be around us, and we just don't know. In this story, gods have taken up the mantles of business men, pawn shop owners and crime bosses, who make the lives of men part of their little games. Gods who are well known ranging to gods that have never been heard of, Mordecai is pulled into a power struggle he will never be ready for.

Horror / Action
Age Rating:

Prologue/ Antiqua Deorum Sanguine Daemonium

You wake up to the scraping of a bolt. The taste of blood fills your mouth. You try to speak, but your tongue feels too thick. Everything is black. You start to panic. Where am I? You think. Am I blind? What’s going on?

You hear a door slam shut somewhere in front of you. The sound of footsteps resonate around the room. All of the sudden, the cloth around your eyes is ripped off. You are temporarily blinded by the bright light. As you eyes adjust to your surroundings, you notice that you are in a basement. In front of you, there is only a chair. Behind that, a big, heavy door. You hear the footsteps behind you move to your side. A figure steps in front of you.

In front of you is not a beast. In fact, it looks like a normal guy. He is wearing glasses, a button up shirt, and jeans. Everything about him is neat. He looks you up and down.

“You will work nicely.” He says. “The gods will be pleased by this meal. You have wasted your time on this world for far too long.”

At first, confusion had filled your head. Then you remember what you were doing. Before all of this, you were drinking with a co-worker. The very same co-worker that was in front of you. He had called you and asked if you could come over for a drink. He had just lost his dog, he said, and was very lonely. This co-worker’s name was Otis. The last thing you remember before ending up like this was the table rushing towards your face.

Otis sneered. “You are pathetic. Lured in by a measly call. Lured in like a wild boar. Now I have you in my trap. It is time to start the ritual.”

Otis walks up and spins you around. You realize that you are attached to a meat hook by chains. The chains dig into your wrists. Your feet are bound to the ground by leather straps. When Otis spins you around, you feel them tighten.The meat hook groans as Otis swivels you to face the rest of the room. You gasp by what you see.

In front of you, someone, probably Otis, had drawn a circle. Around it, an unknown language is written. In the middle of the circle, there was a goat head mounted on a stick. Baskets of vegetables, fruit, pieces of animals, and a few human body parts were scattered within the circle. You look at this gruesome in a mixture of disgust and horror. You didn’t even notice that Otis was gone until you hear his footsteps again. Otis walks around you once again. He is now wearing a black robe over business clothes.

“This is nothing personal. I have no qualms against you. But Wethqual must be satisfied by your flesh. Jyulanm must have his thirst quenched from your blood. Iopluyrie will be soothed by the music of your breaking bones. Yukazaza will relish your screams. And I will be the one to do so.” Otis walked over to a small table. Atop the table was an assortment of torture devices, assorted blades, and other instruments that you had no idea what they were for. Otis picked up a long, slender piece of metal. At first it looked like some ordinary spike, but the longer you looked at it, the more malicious it looked. It was carved from pure iron. The spike looked like it had rust on it, but you realized that it was blood. Glyphs were etched into the spike, and the sinister spike seemed to sing. Not a song of beauty, or even a song of sorrow. One of anger and hatred. He walked to your right side.

You start struggling as you realize that Otis is planning to stab you with that spike. The chains burn you wrists.

“Charlie Chaplin sat on a pin. How many inches did it go in?” Otis sang. You feel the spike pierce your skin. You let out a scream. The pain is immense. Blood starts to pour from the wound. Otis has stabbed you above your waist.

“One, two, three, four.” Otis giggled. “Charlie Chaplin went down some more.” The spike went farther. You scream again. You feel tears start to run down your face. Otis pulled out the bewitched spike. You feel blood shoot out. Out of the corner of your blurred vision, you see Otis fill up a chalice with your blood.

“Jyulanm, I give you blood.” Otis put the cup near the baskets. He went over to the table and picked up a knife. It looked ancient. The blade was wavy and covered with the same writing on the ground. It seemed to whisper, like it was alive. It whispered of pain, of darkness, of blood. He walked over and shoved something into where your wound was. It felt like a rag. It didn’t feel soft. It felt stiff, old. You feel the scratchy cloth inside your wound.

“Can’t have you bleed out just yet. We have a long way to go.” He giggled again. He unsheathed the blade and grabbed your arm. Otis brings the blade up to your skin. You feel him start to cut. You start to struggle.

“I wouldn’t do that. You are going to lose more that way.” Otis chided. You stop struggling as much. It is hard to sit still, but you manage to do so. The pain flared even worse as the blade slid down your arm. It burned like a blacksmith’s fire. Blood dripped off your arm and splashed on the floor below. It made a crimson lake. A crimson lake that held what was once part of you. Now it was part of the earth. Or was it just like rain, waiting there to be drunk by an animal? A god or a demon? After what seems to take forever, Otis pulls back. In his left hand, he holds a twelve inch piece of skin. He holds it like a trophy. Otis waves it like a flag.

“Wethqual, I have given you flesh. I am a devoted follower of Kuthyae. Arise, my gods.” Otis preached.

You look up and choke. Around the goat head, two wraith-like figures float. One has the head of a bull, and the other has the head of a cat. Otis’s eyes are pure red. You feel fear well up in you. You feel like a lamb to the slaughter. A weak animal that has found itself cornered by a ravenous wolf. You fell down the hole, like Alice, but only to discover that it was no hare you followed. It was a beast. You try to break free before this maniac comes at you again.

Otis notices your struggle. “Whatever god you believe in, it is no match against mine. Wethqual brings me strength. Jylanm brings me courage. Iopluyrie brings me intelligence. Yukazaza brings me peace from this cursed world. And Kuthyae, king of the gods, will bring me divine powers. I will punish man in his name!” Otis laughed like a mad man. Because he is a mad man, you think.

Otis walks over to the table once more. He picks up an old stone hammer. He walks over to you, grinning very wide. You notice that his teeth are sharp. He lifts up the hammer and brings it on the arm that was not cut earlier. You let out another scream. Your arm burns. You feel broken parts of your bones pull from each other as the effects of gravity took over. Otis breathes in deeply.

“Hear that, Iopluyrie? Are you listening, Yukazaza? Do you hear the symphony of pain? Do you hear the suffering of this pathetic soul? Hear me. HEAR ME! Hear my call! Give me your powers!” Otis raises his hands. A red mist seeps off of them and goes into the circle. Two more figures float up from the ground. One has the head of a hawk, while the other has the head of a snake. You hear dark chanting. Otis let out a roar, that sounds like a corrupted lion. You struggle and hear the roof above you crack. You feel hope well up inside you. You tug on the chain again. The brick that the chain is in slide a little more. You barely feel the pain as you struggle to pull the brick out. You look at the circle and gasp. The goat head’s eyes are glowing, and you see a yellow mist come out of them. Otis makes his way over to the table...when the phone rings.

Otis pauses and pulls out a phone.”Shit.” He says. He presses a button and lifts it to his ear. “Hi, Sherri.” He holds his hand over his other ear and listens to the caller.

You don’t wait for him to finish his call. You don’t even try to alarm the caller of your presence. Your only focus is the brick. You pull and pull. Otis says bye to the caller. He turns his attention back to the table. He picks up a sword. It is exactly like the knife, but longer, shinier, and different symbols. This blade seems to shout at you. And you don’t want it to finish what it has to say. Otis starts walking towards you. He starts chanting rapidly. You start pulling harder.

“Gutybara namabama uul uyttly pullync guinici… KUTHYAE, I WILL GIVE THIS SOUL TO YOU!!!!” Otis screeches and lunges the blade towards your chest. The blade covers the distance. A foot. Six inches. One inch… and the brick comes out of the ceiling.

Otis glances up in time for the brick to smash him in the face. The sword goes down and slices your leg as well as the binding that is wrapped around your ankles. You yell and fall down. You struggle to get up, and start limping towards the stairs. You hear Otis yell in fury. You get to the door and pull it open. In front of you is a flight of stairs.

You start pulling yourself up the stairs. All the sudden, you feel an iron hard grip grasp your ankle. You trip and look behind to see Otis latched onto your ankle. Otis’s eyes are blood red, his teeth sharp. Blood is running down from his nose.

“You are not escaping. Not now. Not when I am so close to being a god!” Otis growled. He reaches up your leg. You try to shake him off. His hand shoots up and punches you in the mouth. You struggle and crawl up the stairs a little more. Otis grabs your leg again. You start to panic and lash out your leg. Your foot connects with his face and sends him sprawling backwards. You continue your climb. You reach another door and throw it open. You are in a kitchen. You lurch towards the main door. Five feet away from the door. Three feet. One foot. Your hand grasps the door knob. A sharp pain digs into your leg. You fall against the wall next to the door and look behind you.

Otis is standing in the doorway to the basement. In one hand he is holding the sword. He starts to move towards you. The red mist is hanging heavily around him. His bloody nose is pouring. He starts growling. He yells and lifts up his blade, sprinting towards where you are sitting on the ground.

You look around frantically for something to defend yourself with. In your leg, you notice the knife from earlier. Otis must have thrown it into your leg. It had gone all the way through. You pull it out and you scream, almost blacking out from the pain. But you hold on. All of the sudden, everything seems to slow down. You start praying. You start praying that you won’t die here. You pray that you won’t die from this psychopath. You lift the knife and yell in pain and anger. Otis’s roaring and your roaring fill the house. Otis reaches you.

Otis reaches you, lifts up his blade, and slips. His eyes go from angry to surprised. He falls towards the knife. The knife sinks into his neck. The sword hits the tile next to you, the blade screaming across the tile as it misses its target. It falls from Otis’s grasp. Otis pulls back as quick like a cat from a loud noise. He leaps back a couple of feet and lands on his knees. He looks at you with a surprised look. The red from his eyes disappears. The red mist around him fades away. He looks human again.

“Kuthyae…” He gurgles. “…”

His eyes connect with yours. In them, a deep fear has arisen. A fear that is found in all animals, whether it be man or beast. He holds his neck. “My gods...they Kuthyae….Iopluyrie….Yukazaza….Jylanm….Wethqual…” Blood seeps between his fingers. He crawls towards you. “I-I can’t...go out like this. I had the gods….I had the gods at my back. Your god is weak. I powerful. How...How did you win?”

He picks up the sword weakly. He crawls a couple of inches closer. He drops the sword, that damned blade hitting the tile’s again, and falls faceforward, dead. You lean against the wall. Otis’s blood pools across the black and white tiles. Your side is bleeding again. The world starts to go dark. The front door opens and a lady walks in. She drops the bag she was carrying and covers her mouth. You notice her nametag. It reads “Sherri”. On her left ring finger is a gold ring.

You feel relief. You cough up a little blood. “About fucking time someone showed up.” You say. Then everything blacks out.

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