4

Asher

 

“Please, Asher,” Elara begged, her voice shaking with desperation. “You have to let me go. You don’t have to do this.”

I couldn’t help but smile, the corners of my mouth curling upward, her fear only fuelled my excitement. “Oh, but I do, Elara,” I replied, leaning in closer, savoring the moment.

I pressed my lips against hers, tasting the warmth of her breath and the bitterness of her fear. But this time, she surprised me—her teeth sank into my lip. A jolt of pain shot through me, and I pulled back, cursing under my breath. “Fuck!”

As the blood trickled down my chin, I spat it onto the floor, the metallic taste mingling with the thrill of her defiance. Laughter erupted from my brothers, their voices echoing around the chapel. “Looks like you’ve bought yourself a fighter, brother!” one of them called out, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “We like her, she’s feisty!”

I chuckled, a sinister thrill coursing through my veins. “Yeah, I like her too,” I admitted silently, my heart racing at the challenge she presented. There was something intoxicating about her resistance, a spark of rebellion that ignited a fire within me. The more she squirmed, the more I craved her. Let’s face it, if the women were submissive, it would take all the fun out of it.

“Don’t worry, Elara,” I said, stepping back to admire the scene. “You’ll be free from us soon.”

Her expression twisted with anger, but beneath the fury, I could see the flicker of fear. It was a delicious combination that left me feeling a tad aroused. I turned away from her, joining my brothers at the altar where we began to prepare for the sacrifices of the women we had gathered.

As we arranged the ritual tools, I felt a sense of power flow through me. My brothers exchanged glances, their excitement matching mine as we prepared for what would bind us further to our desires.

“Tonight, we take what is ours,” my brother announced, his voice low and commanding. “These women will become part of our legacy.”

I glanced back at Elara, still bound on the stone table, her spirit unbroken despite the circumstances. She was a wild card. I couldn’t wait to see her fight, to see how far she would go to resist the inevitable fate that awaited her.

 

-

 

The flickering light of the fire cast twisted shadows across the chapel, illuminating the pentagram carved deeply into the stone floor. Each side of the five-pointed star was lined with intricate symbols, remnants of a forgotten time, whispering secrets of power and darkness.

I stood at the edge of the pentagon, heart racing as I watched my brother Andre, his chosen athame gripped tightly in his hand.

With each word he spoke, the flames roared higher, twisting and dancing as if alive, eager to consume what was about to be offered. I could feel the heat on my face, a reminder of the power that was about to be unleashed. Andre moved to the side of the woman he had chosen, the sacrifice he had procured with such careful planning. With a smile on his face he pulled the woman from the stone table and dragged her screaming by her ankles into the centre of yhe pentagram.

My breath caught in my throat as I watched the moment unfold. In a swift, practiced motion, Andre plunged the athame into her chest. Time seemed to freeze, the chapel silent except for the crackling of the flames. Her blood pooling on the stone floor beneath her, flowing through the grooves etched into the pentagon. It snaked toward the fire, and as it met the flames, they erupted into a vibrant red, a violent and beautiful transformation.

As her heart ceased to beat, a rush of energy surged through the room, and I could feel the air crackle with raw power. Andre’s eyes, once a warm brown, darkened to an inky black, a clear sign of the strength he was absorbing.

This was it. Soon, it would be my turn. The sacrifice of Elara would grant me unimaginable power, and I could already envision the strength that would flow through me, along with the respect I would command.

 

Elara

 

As I lay frozen, my heart was racing yet somehow detached from the horror unfolding before me. My gaze was locked onto the hooded figure at the center of the chapel, where the flickering fire cast shadows across his face. In one swift motion, he plunged his dagger into the chest of the woman before him. A gasp escaped my lips, but it was swallowed by a suffocating silence, just as I imagined the same to the other women.

I could see the life draining from her eyes, and as it finally did, I felt a chill crawl up my spine. Within seconds the next woman was dragged forward, her screams full of fear as she knew the same fate awaited her. They forced her to lay down in the pooling blood that stained the stone floor, a gruesome reminder of the life that had just been snuffed out. I wanted to look away, to close my eyes and block out the horror, but I couldn’t.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I continued to watch. This next man, he was different—there was a sadistic glint in his eyes with a cruel smile to match. How could anyone find joy in such violence?

My heart ached for the woman on the ground, for all of us trapped in this nightmare. Each sacrifice felt like a piece of my soul being ripped away, leaving me numb and hollow.

And then there was one. I was the last, the final woman chosen for this dark sadistic ritual.

No matter how many tears I shed or how loudly I screamed, I knew it would make no difference. I could see it in their eyes—this was my destiny, and I was powerless to change it. Asher stood before me, his presence looming like a storm cloud. He reached down, his fingers brushing against my wrists as he untied the ropes that had bound me, but I refused to look at him. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear, and so I willingly walked.

Instead, I focused on the floor beneath me, the slick pool of blood that had been collected from the countless sacrifices before me. With a deep breath, I turned my body and laid back into the crimson liquid, feeling its warmth seep through my clothes and envelop me. In that moment, I chose to embrace my fate rather than fight against it.

The whispers of the cultists faded into a dull roar in my ears as I stared up at the ceiling, tracing the aged designs carved into the stone. My heart continued to race, but I forced myself to remain calm. I would not show them the terror that churned within me. I would not give them the satisfaction of my despair. Not when they so clearly craved it.

As Asher stepped closer, I could feel his presence looming over me, the air becoming thicker and suffocating. I had let him in, let him get close to me. I thought he was my friend. But now, now I know his friendship was all an act. He was grooming me for this, and now I was ready to accept what lay ahead, to surrender to the darkness that awaited me.

Then, I felt it—the cold touch of steel against my throat. A shiver ran down my spine, but I held my breath, steadying myself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm me. This was it.