Senior Member
EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
Level completed: 65%,
EXP required for next Level: 3,861
Nevin was now standing upright, his eyes, normally a dark shade, blazing with hate and magic, burning bright crimson as he met the black and red gaze of the twisted priest. The other man was still unnaturally still, his head cocked slightly to one side at an strange angle that normally would have been disconcerting. But not now - now, Nevin was gripped with a fury that was washing away other concerns. No longer did he care if other people heard what happened in here. No, the thing in front of him, the man with a perverted version of one of his abilities, needed to be obliterated, removed from existence. Through gritted teeth Nevin spat out his answer, clearing enough of his rage so that the preacher could not misunderstand him again.
"I said - They are not supposed to be like that. I don't know who you are, or where you got those, but that is not what the Crimson looks like." The preacher was silent for a long minute, wide eyes staring back at Nevin as he processed what the Alchemist had said. Then his lips split into an impossible grin, the corners of his mouth spreading wide and breaking the skin as he grinned wider and wider. When the man spoke, the discordance was stronger, ringing out in the air, sounding barely human.
"Well well. We thought you looked familiar little man, but thought it merely in passing. No, you are our lost little Messiah, come back into our arms of his own will. Such a stupid little thing." The voice of the thing - and it was definitely not human at this point - was gloating as the preacher gestured at the door. Thick inky red threads sprang from the floor and wove over the door, blocking it shut as the creature masquerading as a man turned its attention back to Nevin. It took a step forward, and the human in the room sidestepped out of its direct path, putting the table with the bowl of blood on it directly between them. This seemed to amuse the priest, as it let out a gurgling laugh. "We had hoped to find you - our hunters did find you. You came to us without them though. Tell us, did their blood feel good on your skin? We are sure you reveled in it. Now, come, shed that flesh suit." What? Why would he - oh.
The thing thought that the ritual had been successful? Even now, when Nevin was so angry that he was almost visibly trembling with rage? The arrogance of this thing was unbelievable. But Nevin didn't get a chance to reject it at the grin on the creature's face spread wider and wider - and then the top of the man's head slid back, bonelessly, and drooped backwards over his neck, eyesockets suddenly empty and hollow. The man's neck bulged obscenely, a single bulge on each side of the neck - and thick, red/black tendrils emerged from the meaty flesh of the neck, jutting out in a shower of blood and viscera into the air. They twisted for a moment and then braced against the shoulder's of the priest, and an unholy entity pulled itself free from the body - from the shell that had it had been wearing. Like a wet sack of potatoes the frame of the priest fell backwards, slapping to the ground with a wet splat that echoed strangely in the room.
The anger in Nevin's magic spiked even further, into a white hot fury that burned every inch of his skin where the red veins stood. Whatever this thing was, the very essence of his magic rejected it, despised it.
Last edited by Nevin; 10-25-2017 at 11:10 AM.
