The Final Ritual (3)
Minho fell on the ground, sweating and panting hard. The voices were still crying for help, their pleas echoing in his mind until he felt like he was going crazy. He could hear Anyal chanting some gibberish but he did not bother to listen. The demon was inflicting psychological pain on him and Minho did not know how much longer he could bear it.
"AAAGH!" he cried in agony when a sharp pain jabbed his brain as if someone was squeezing it until it would burst.
It's a trick! He told himself. It's all a trick! Don't give in!
The invisible hands were still pinning down his limbs and he could not move a muscle. He did not know for how many minutes, hours or days he was enduring this because he lost all sense of time and place. Eyes were following him, voices were whispering at him and the wind was slapping at him from all sides.