Rude

It was supposed to be a great day.

So why...

"What the fuck is this now?"

In a dimly lit hall shrouded in darkness, a sinister aura enveloped the air as the mysterious group gathered around a round table.

Cloaked in black and red hooded robes, their faces obscured, they chanted an eerie and unsettling prayer, their voices echoing ominously in the chamber.

The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the menacing ambiance.

The members' eyes seemed to gleam with an unsettling intensity as they fervently performed their sacred ritual. The air was heavy with otherworldly energy, sending shivers down the spines of those present, even the members themselves.

The chilling sound of dripping thick liquid echoed faintly in the background, heightening the tension in the air.

And on the ominous round table, Sorin lay spread-eagled, his body positioned like the sinister pentagram symbol etched below him.

He was bound, his palms pierced and immobilized by wooden stakes, while his foot remained tightly restrained.

The members encircled Sorin, their hooded figures casting fiendish silhouettes on the walls. Their haunting chants grew louder, resonating with the eerie energy that swirled in the air.

Recalling the moment before he passed out, he was just walking home from his new job when a sudden ambush caught him off guard on a desolate corner near his route.

WHIP! SLAM!

WHIP!

Two cult members circled around him, wielding a short whip. From time to time, they struck his bare skin, inflicting shallow, bleeding wounds upon his body.

Not only that, the melting candle seared his skin and wound as it dripped from the chandelier hanging above him, burning him and elevating the pain.

"This is... something from the news, huh?"

Right, kidnappings had become more rampant in his city since a couple of weeks ago. But he never thought it would happen to him, a grown-ass man.

And after almost an hour, he had long realized that this wasn't some sort of sick internet prank or joke. He wasn't being filmed, even though this felt exactly like in cult horror movies.

This was real. And he was past his denial phase.

He was kidnapped by a demonic cult and used as a sacrifice for their ritual.

Like he said, this was supposed to be a great day.

But why would the world suddenly decide to treat him so well?

A new job in a reputable company, a fresh start in a new city. An orphan, Sorin, had graduated from a struggling student to a proud member of society.

Can you believe it?

He even got a free offer from the company to trace his ancestry and help him find his long-lost blood relatives. Just a few weeks ago, he sent his DNA sample, and today was the day he was supposed to get the results.

But suddenly...

Silence.

Abruptly, all the chants, whippings, and violence came to a halt. Now, in the eerie silence, Sorin's senses sharpened, and then, he fell into complete focus.

"Oh, Lord, please give us... give us... give us your promised eternal life... by your side… Arise…!"

"With this sacrifice, please... please give us eternal life, and awaken from your slumber!"

Sorin turned his head to the top of him, where the leader of the cult was standing. On his hand appeared a long, weird-shaped dagger, ready to stab him.

"I see. This is the end of the ritual, huh."

"Oh, Lord!"

The chant resumed, but this time it was more chaotic. Surprisingly, candles began to extinguish one by one, despite there being no wind blowing inside the hall.

"OH, LORD!"

"OH, LORD! OH, LORD!"

"Well, where I'm coming from, something like this is simply..." Sorin muttered. "...rude."

Before the dagger swung down to stab his heart, his left hand had swatted upward, causing the dagger to fall from the leader's hand.

"What?!" the leader looked at Sorin's left hand, with a hole in the middle of it. "He pulled his hand through the stake...?"

"Ow, ow, that's really hurt..."

Sorin muttered as he pulled the stake that was piercing his right hand. "A sacrifice should be a voluntary act, no? Why would you kidnap an innocent person from the streets?"

"This was supposed to be a great day. Now you ruined it..." Sorin rose from the table.

"HOLD HIM!"

Sorin evaded the people with the whip. He noticed people started pulling out weapons and guns from inside their robes.

With legs still bound on the table, he tried to turn his upper body around, seizing the chance to grab the weird-shaped dagger that had fallen on the floor.

One of them could barely hold his left shoulder, but Sorin twisted his body backward, pulling the man who had just managed to hold him, and pointed the tip of the dagger at his nose.

He had turned the table on him, making him his hostage now.

"No! No!" the leader screamed, stopping everyone from charging and pulling triggers. From under the hood, Sorin could see worry and anger in his eyes.

Blue eyes. Like his own.

He glanced toward the man in his chokehold, who also had the same colored eyes. "Ooh, family business?"

"Imagine... your family runs a cult. That must really suck. Anyway, help me untie the rope," Sorin pushed the dagger's tip to his hostage's cheek.

He scoffed, "I bet at least more than one of you would do all of this, kidnapping and killing people while being unsure of what you were doing. This kind of thing is bullshit, you know."

The young man reached down to untie one of his legs and then the other. But before he could finish, suddenly, the table was shaking.

Sorin glanced around and then realized the pentagram under his body started to glow red ominously. He noticed the cult members were also as shocked as himself.

"No way this is real, right?"

One of Sorin's legs was still bound on the table when his hostage slipped free. The moment he realized he fucked up, the cult leader yelled, "FINISH THE RITUAL!"

KA-CLICK!

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Today, Sorin learned something new.

He thought there was nothing in this world he had not seen yet. Despite growing up in drug-infested slums, almost being trafficked by modern slave traders, enduring numerous terrible foster homes, and surviving multiple dangerous neighborhoods during his teens...

He ended up here, lying in his own pool of blood as a real demonic cult sacrifice. The last thing he thought he would become.

He thought his luck was good since he was able to graduate from university. Well, he thought.

But maybe, he was never lucky at all.

Red light from the pentagram started blinding him. It hurt to breathe, so he almost didn't care anymore.

A demon would enter this world through his sacrifice, huh? Well, fuck. What a shitty way to end his life.

But still, he wasn't that kind of person, right? He wasn't such a bad person who would let a demon run rampant in this world—

COUGH!

Suddenly, he remembered something. A phrase some random preacher told him when he was still a child of the slum.

[God, the only entity with no beginning and no end.]

And these cultists were promised eternal life by their 'Lord'?

"God... cough..." Sorin whispered. "I think you gotta tell them... cough... that they've been scammed..."

Praying for the first time in his life, he mustered all the energy he had left, "...and I don't care... just don't let any demon start adding mess to this hell hole of a world..."

[Innate Ability awakened! Unique Reign: Reverse, acquired!]

[Warning! Demonic Ritual detected!]

[Begin deflection attempt…]

[DING!]

BOOM!

SPLATTT!

Blood and flesh suddenly splattered around him as all the cult members' bodies exploded.

[Blessing: Immortality, acquired!]

"Huh?"