Curse of the Father

Demons had been summoned, deals had been made, sacrifices had been given and now they waited. His sanctum had been desecrated by the blood of his flock. The world around them had become void of moment and sound, as if every living creature had abandoned the once 'hallowed' ground. Not even the wind dared to rustle the trees.

"I know you're there, girl! Come out and beg for the mercy and forgiveness of the true God! Repent for your wicked sins!" A voice came as a man entered through the large and ornate doors. Even in his growing age he was still tall and broad shouldered, his silvery-white armor making him appear more intimidating to those around him. Upon his chest was the insignia of a lion and a cross, regalia of his belief. He a warrior of the church, a man ordained by his god to spread the word to the pagan through blood and sword since they refused to convert willingly. His congregation was ruled with an iron fist and fears of eternal damnation in a hellish fire. Her laughter echoed around him coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once, it was both hypnotizing and melodic. The Father's bushy grey silver brows knitted together in an uncertain frustration, "You are trying my patience, witch." He growled, narrowing his eyes as he looked around trying to spot where the disembodied laughter was coming from.

"Oh Father, is that the only virtue of yours that I test?" Her laughter came again but this time it glided along his skin, slipping under the armor and caressing him like a lover, "Not even your blessed armor can protect you from me!" She suddenly snarled as his head was snapped back, an unseen force wrapping tightly around his throat. His fingers desperately clawed at the unseen force that was cutting off his air supply turning his face pink, then red and slowly purple.

Slowly a figure materialized out of the darkness, her long blonde hair flowed behind her framing her with an almost angelic glow if it wasn't for her eyes being void of any color, so dark and intense that the Father felt like she was reaching into his soul as he clawed at the bleeding skin on his throat, his face now turning blue and his eyes starting to bulge from the sockets.

"You created us, you gave us reason to seek the Dark. You drove us into the arms of the creatures you claimed you were protecting us from! I curse your bloodline, Father, I curse all who choose to rebuild and worship here and it will be your spirit that drives your sheep from your once precious pastures. All of their blood will bear down on your shoulders with the weight of a thousand mountains, their blood will stain your hands so deeply it bleeds from your soul!" She hissed venomously.

The life slipped from the old man's bulging eyes, his corporal form chipped and cracked like stone before falling away in the wind like ashes. His armor clanged to the floor before it began to screech and crunch, reshaping itself into chains that lashed out into the air sinking into the soul of the Father that hung limply in the air. With a wave of her hand the unseen force released the man's throat, his scream suddenly pierced the once deafening silence. The smile that tugged at her lips was akin to a cat who had just eaten the canary. With every step she took flames licked the ground consuming everything it touched until the cool night air kissed her cheeks as she disappeared into the darkness.