Chapter 2. Ritual

[Bood... blood is the... key... Blood... Blood is the key!](Monk)

He yelled with every bit of strength he had left, even turning around to alert his fighting companions. However, they did seem a bit too preoccupied to hear him properly, through the sounds of steel hitting flesh and roars of these small demonlings attacking them.

[What!?](Rogue)

[I need two of you, NOW!](Monk)

Every slight distraction could prove fatal when besieged by such fierce creatures. Yet, the minor lapse in attention, which was almost punished by one of these beasts, was fortunately met by the sword of the Warrior, giving it only steel to impale itself into.

[Go! I'll hold them. GO!](Warrior)

Grabbing the Rogue's torch on his left and the sword on his right, the Warrior was a veritable whirlwind of death on the small corridor, blocking any monster's attempt at rushing forth and chasing after his companions.

Even with that being the case, the situation didn't look very promising in Michael's eyes. There seemed to be an unlimited supply of these fuckers, which, while weak, didn't appear to fear death and kept throwing themselves at this formidable fighter while hoping to drown him with numbers.

In the meantime, the Rogue and the Tank reached the Monk, who breathlessly tried to explain what they needed to do.

[So... it says 'the blood of the willing goes'...](Monk)

Yet that seemed to draw a disdainful look and a grunt from the Tank, who just slammed his right hand into the obviously hand-shaped carving on the floor.

[You've gotta be kidding me!](Rogue)

While complaining, the Rogue did precisely as the Tank did, prompting the Monk to follow in their footsteps. Or rather... handprints? By now, Michael had taken the approach of viewing a movie, albeit a fantasy/horror flick, judging by what seemed to be liters of blood flowing out of these three people's hands during their sacrifice.

While muttering 'unscientific,' he watched three small rivers of blood flowing from the three people down into the groves and into these carved aqueducts that led towards the middle of the diagram.

There stood a symbol of a fork... well, rather than a fork, it looked like three tributaries uniting into a big river... though it didn't seem appropriately aligned with the three aqueducts filled with blood.

'What the fuck!?'

Michael almost peed his invisible pants when the blood reached the symbol, as it suddenly reacted to the blood and turned to match the three canals in a practically supernatural manner, furthering the sanguine tribute into the blocked door.

A strong gust of wind followed, almost pushing down the weak Monk and forcing the other two to shield their faces.

[Haha! It worked!](Rogue)

The Rogue was all but jumping in delight as the door sealing the passage was rising, obviously making the Monk's deductions correct.

All three bolted for the opening, yet the Monk stopped when inside, alerted by the loud screech of one of those creatures. He was instantly reminded by the still-fighting Warrior outside.

[We have to help him!](Monk)

Yet he couldn't say much as the Rogue put a hand around his shoulder and pulled him back, restraining his attempt at rushing outside.

[He's dead already!](Rogue)

Then, as the Monk's eye widened, the Warrior fought hard to open a way out of the encircling monsters and rush to the unsealed door.

Yet, a subtle nod from the Tank towards the Rogue was all it took, as an axe found its way into the chains, lifting the door and making it fall back down in its original position.

To his dismay, the Monk struggled out of the Rogue's arms, yet it was too late. He could see the Warrior diving towards the rapidly falling door...

[Nooooooooooooooo!](Monk)

...without any success. Breathless, he almost fell to his knees, but a pat on his shoulder from the Rogue stabilized him before it happened. The disingenuous gesture didn't feel very comforting, as the Monk just watched these two kill the Warrior through their inhuman act.

The Rogue's hand clasped harder on his shoulder in a threatening manner as a whispering voice that seemed even more terrifying than the screeches of the monsters outside the door reached his ears.

[It's a shame he didn't make it... Oh, well! Cheer up! Gold splits up better three ways instead of four.](Rogue)

He pushed the Monk forward, making him grunt in pain. Using their remaining torch to light up the darkness, their eyes were fervently searching for hidden treasures.

[It must be hiding in here somewhere. Read THIS!](Rogue)

Michael watched as the 'light push' made the weak Monk fly through the air and slam into a pillar, all but painting it red with his blood.

Grunting in pain and curling up like a pretzel, the poor man did his best to stand back up while whimpering. His eyes lurched around the room, glancing at the carvings depicting strange words...

['By three they come. By three, thy way opens. By the blood of the... willing. Hail! Hail the... Crea... the Creator!? Huh! Hail the Daughter of... Oh, no!](Monk)

[*Sigh* What about the coin!? What's it says!?](Rogue)

[No, no, no! This is forbidden! This is a summoning! I can't speak this... Urgh!](monk)

Whatever warning the Monk was prepared to give as he grabbed the Rogue's shoulders was cut short by two fingers pushing inside his open wound, making him double over with intense pain.

Watching them from above, Michael felt goosebumps on his skin, taking in the creepy chamber and hearing the ominous words coming from the Monk's mouth.

Judging by the demonic creatures outside that now sealed gate, the words 'summoning,' and the creepy engravings on the ground and pillars, he started having a general idea of where this was going...

The Tank used his left hand's bracers to push onto the poor Monk's throat and force him to answer their greed-fueled questions.

Michael was wondering just how blinded by the money they were in order not to notice something this simple. Or, was there something more to this situation that he couldn't tell just from the vision?

[Don't lie to me!](Rogue)

[We came here for treasure! What is this place!?](Tank)

[I-I don't know!](Monk)

[Urgh!](Tank)

[Maybe it's a temple! Or a tomb! Or a...](Monk)

[It's a gate.](Warrior)

Michael's hair all but stood on its ends just like a cat that had its tail stepped upon. The ghostly voice of the Warrior locked outside the felled gate echoed in the room, putting a stop to the argument between the three.

The echoes of the word 'gate' kept reverberating, hitting the ears of those inside harder and rougher each time.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the Rogue's body was yanked away as if a chain was around his waist, and the other end was around the tail of a train speeding in the distance.

That also meant that the only torch left - the one that the Rogue swiped from the Monk - was gone, leaving the Tank and the Monk in silence and darkness.

The Tank slowly backed away from the pillar and stopped in the middle of the chamber, making sure his axe was ready to chop at whatever was skulking about, unaware that he was in the middle of a goddam ritualistic diagram drawn on the floor.

What followed was a scene straight out of a horror movie, as drops of blood found their way onto the Tank's head. Touching them and noticing what they were, instantly drew his attention to the ceiling, where he saw the Rogue suspended mid-air.

With ever-increasing horror, the man noticed no chains or ropes to hold him in place. It was as if space itself locked around the terrified Rogue.

Furthermore, he looked as if an entire mountain was on his back, making him unable to form proper words... only opening and closing his mouth repeatedly.

In the next second, he was brought even higher up, and his limbs started breaking and deforming as if an invisible force was being applied, making even something as durable as human bones snap with relative ease.

[Blood... blood is the key.](Warrior)

The ghostly voice of the Warrior echoed in the chamber once more, drawing the attention of the surprisingly not-surprised Tank. The latter eyed his surroundings, looking for a chance to strike.

Michael watched him slowly rotating on the spot while the Warrior appeared behind him out of nowhere, drawing a very feminine scream from this unwilling 'viewer.'

The Tank seemed to have watched more horror movies than Michael as he suddenly turned around and chopped at the Warrior's lower jaw with excellent aim.

There was no time to be amazed by such pure battle instincts, though, as the ghostly Warrior turned his now bashed/chopped-up face towards the Tank, making some noises that were possible only in movies where demonic possession was a thing.

The sounds of bones shifting and rubbing together were disquieting, to say the least, but even worse, the Warrior now stood tall and was facing the Tank as if nothing happened. Such fucked up actions finally drew a scared expression from the bulky man's face.

'Bloody hell! What the fuck is going on!? He mostly removed that guy's maw and cut pretty deep into his throat. How is he standing there as if nothing happened!?'

Not a moment later, the Tank flew across the room onto one of the remaining pillars. He was strung upside-down, the same force applying enough pressure to keep him in place in such a way that defied the laws of physics.

Suddenly, two symbols on the ground turned in their spots, obviously activating some mechanism, as the Warrior made his way towards the last pillar, where the Monk was watching everything with abject horror.

Furthermore, the same rotating symbols were being etched on the skin and foreheads of the two suspended parties, making the poor Monk all but sheltered his eyes with his hands in fear.

[Blessed Akarat, thy eternal Light protects me! Thy divine wisdom guides me. Though my path is wrought with darkness, guide my soul to thy sacred Light.](Monk)

The prayers didn't seem to do much, as rivers of blood began rushing out of the two people on the pillars, making their way toward the middle of the room as if on an invisible glass.

Furthermore, the blood didn't act as a regular liquid but looked like lightning branching toward wherever it was headed. Tendrils seemed to link together, stopping about four to five meters away from each pillar.

[From the Abyss... we seek thy salvation... By three, they come. By three, thy way opens. By the blood of the willing, we call thee home.](Warrior)

What followed was so terrifying that even the poor Monk stopped chanting his prayers. The blood kept flowing, filling a tapestry in mid-air.

At the same time, the Warrior in the dead middle of the diagram suddenly began glitching, for the lack of a better word, forming multiple people who suddenly were drawn back into himself, creating a different person altogether.

This new individual had pale white skin - so much that he looked dead rather than alive - turned his head towards the Monk and extended his right hand, beckoning.

[Come.](?)

[Aaaaah!](Monk)

The same strange force from before dragged the scared Monk through the air and towards this new 'addition' in the chamber.

[Blessed Akarat, thy eternal Light protects me! Thy divine wisdom guides me. Though my path is wrought with...](Monk)

[Open your eyes.](?)

As told, the Monk opened his eyes only to close them back in fear a few seconds later. The Monk was hovering almost a meter above the ground, yet he barely reached the same height as this 'person.'

[Eternal Light protects me! Eternal Light protects me! Eternal Light protects me! Eternal Light protects me! Eternal light...](Monk)

[There is no light here... You came to the darkness for knowledge...](?)

There was a short struggle in the Monk's eyes, but the words spoken by this creepy stranger seemed to burrow into his mind and slowly germinate.

[*deep breath* Yes.](Monk)

Michael was in awe at the masterclass in psychology this tall dude was dishing out. He hasn't yelled, threatened, or hurt them since he appeared.

Well, maybe he hurt them in the beginning. Yet, his calm and soothing voice was almost hypnotic, as the poor Monk seemed entranced with just a few words.

An even gaze that seemed to penetrate the Monk's soul as he opened his lips again.

[And all the knowledge you seek is here... Surrender... Speak the words... Call her home...](?)

The man's soothing voice completely broke whatever mental defenses the poor Monk had left. The conviction in his eyes brought about by faith faltered, and even fear disappeared entirely in seconds.

All that seemed left was a deep thirst for knowledge bordering on madness as he looked at the blood covering his hands.

Taking a deep breath, he threw aside all burdens of morality, even though knowing his act will damn countless innocents. After all, he did come here seeking answers...

[By three, they come.](Monk)

The Monk started levitating towards the empty third pillar and turned upside-down in the process.

[By three, thy way opens. By the blood of the willing, we call thee... home...](Monk)

With an expansive gesture as if embracing the inevitable, the Monk opened his arms, and blood sprouted similarly as with the other two, headed towards the already built tapestry mid-air.

Tendrils of blood flowing from the Monk met with the tendrils of blood from the Rogue and the Tank on the edges, creating long intertwined ropes.

For a moment, looking at them, Michael saw a flashing image pass through his mind, showing a pair of beautiful red eyes and a face smiling back at him.

Shaking his imaginary head, he was brought back to reality just in time to notice how the three pillars were connected through the blood of the three 'willing' sacrifices.

The previous 'tapestry' now formed a quilt that appeared to be made out of the finest silk instead of blood, all converging above the head of the tall man underneath.

[...Hail, Daughter of Hatred!](Monk)

Michael was sure that he already peed and shat his underwear as a head seemed to push through the silken tapestry.

As the Monk said, it was a summoning ritual, and the blood acted as a gate between this world and whatever plane or hell this 'Daughter of Hatred' was being brought out of.

In the meantime, visions of a person locked in thousands of chains flashed in his mind again, followed by a visage that could only be simultaneously described as beautiful and terrifying. The unspoken hatred in her eyes seemed enough to drown this entire world in the flames of the Abyss a hundred times over.

[...Creator of Sanctuary!](monk)

At this point, Michael's soul almost dissipated in fear when he saw a woman's face pushing through the blood veil, but even more so when he heard the Monk's words.

Sanctuary!? Wasn't that the world of Diablo, the game he preordered before being dragged here? As for the creator of the said world, he remembered two names from the game's lore. One was Inarius, a fallen angel of sorts, while the second was...

[...Hail... Lilith!](monk)

At this point, the tall man had already kneeled on the ground, extending his hand in a gentlemanly way, only for a fairer but blood-red hand to take his, as the creator of the Sanctuary herself was descending mid-air.

Scenes of a blood-red hell where she stood imprisoned flashed continuously in Michael's eyes, no doubt the location where she was previously imprisoned. Taking a deep, calming breath, Michael saw the eyes of the Monk glaze over as death claimed him.

There was no fear or pain in his eyes — only awe.

The world seemed to welcome its creator, as rose petals were continuously falling in the chamber as if wishing to prepare a carpet for her to step on.

Watching the demon gain a more human-like form was mind-boggling. By the time her feet touched the ground, she already seemed no different than an average person... though much taller, with a head full of reversed sheep horns, and the blood tapestry above still connected to her.

Yet... impossibly beautiful.

[Blessed Mother... Save us.](?)

Her eyes turned to the kneeling man for a moment but immediately locked onto a part of the ceiling. Whatever instincts Michael still had were screaming the word 'danger' at him.

Somehow, this demon locked onto him, even though he was invisible to the other four people. Her gaze seemed to have burrowed into his very core, shaking it and tearing apart the very fabric of his being.

He blacked out a second later while watching a smile form on the demon's face.

Remembering the Monk's sigh when giving in to temptation, he couldn't help but wonder: what happens next?