Here is an excerpt from Chapter 1.
-- Winston brought forth the silver dagger and with one great thrash he released blood from his palm, cutting the first two fingers of his left hand, downward into his palm. He threw the gathering pool of crimson liquid that began to gather in the palm of his hand into the fire. He handed the dagger to Jessica and she did the same. Soon they all performed this ceremonial offering of themselves to the dark spirit which called this place home. Tonya went to a large stone they had designated an alter, and filled a small dish with myrrh, sandlewood and white willow bark. She took the flame from the black candle perched on the alter, and let the fire heat the incense. As the aroma rose and began to fill the cave with its strong fragrance they began to chant again.
Suddenly they felt the cold wind enter the cave, and fill it as if the air itself had become as thick as oil, and pressed against them with a heavy weight. The flames from the fire began to spin and slowly dim, until it was no more. There, as they chanted in the darkness, a small glow of moonlight penetrated the opening of the cave, and washed over them with a faint shimmer. A smoke began to fill the space where the fire had been, but not a smoke from the pit itself. This was a cold wet smoke, a mist that had drifted into the cave from the hills surrounding them. As it thickened, and almost seemed to dance, Christopher thought he could make out a form within the mist. He looked over toward Marimus with excitement and noticed that Marimus was fixated on the mist as well. He looked over toward the rest of the group, and saw that every eye was mesmerized by the gathering of a form within this mist. They chanted louder and flung droplets of blood from their hands that still flowed into the pit, and onto the creature that had now almost fully formed in front of them.
It seemed to slither about the confines of the fire pit, as if fighting to be freed from chains. Suddenly a cold liquid fell upon Christopher's face. Christopher felt the fluid as it rain down his cheek. “What is this he thought-is it raining in here?” He knew that to be impossible as the soft glow of the dim moonlight gleamed through the opening of the cavern, he saw that the liquid was indeed blood. He looked around at his friends, and suddenly realized that someone was missing! No one seemed to be aware of anything around them other than the massive, and dark figure hovering above them where the fire once blazed. They were captivated and almost hypnotized by the presence of what they had conjured.
Tonya had managed to stay calm as the creature took form before her very eyes. After all this was what they had set out to do. Now hovering above them in almost solid form stood the most terrifying, and amazing thing she had ever imagined possible. The demon had heard their cries and came to them. Now if she could only not loose it so that they could bind the creature to their will.
She looked over at Jessica to see if she was seeing this in all its glory, and also to make sure that her girlfriend of four years was alright. She was-and Tonya knew that. Jessica was a strong character, that made her feel secure and empowered, and there she now stood to Tonya's left, as sure and confident as ever staring back at the beast taking form before them now. Tonya reached into here pocket to pull out the silver medallion that she had soaked for six days and nights in the mixture of blood, and tears of her, and her friends. It had been charmed by the most powerful witch she knew of, who was right there with them on this glorious night. No other witch in Kentucky, or Virginia, had ever shown Tonya the power and capability that Carol Ison had shown. Tonya raised the medallion above hear head and presented it before the demon.
She called it by the name given it by the Cherokee people.“Kalona Ayeliski we command thee!” she shouted out into the dark night. The others were about to begin the chant when the creature turned toward Tonya. and with no effort leaned into hear small frame with a dark and evil gaze. It looked at the small silver thing in her hand, that now seemed so weak and simple and naive. The demon raised back up and with one swipe a steel-like claws found her flesh, and tore it apart. She tried to make a cry-or scream-or say something to Jessica, or the others but the hot liquid began filling her throat. She felt weak as she stared up at the demon that seemed to have already forgot she was there. She felt her legs giving way, as did the thoughts of her life. She could feel herself slowly drift away into nothing, and slowly the pain enveloped her no longer.
It was weakened by the old man and his magic. It knew this magic well. The magic that held them back from this realm for eons, keeping them from feeding upon these hideous creations. It felt angered by the man's power against It. Demon should be controlled by no one, not even the wretched gods that invaded and took claim on their sacred darkness. It was abomination against the chaos to allow these creatures life, with these foul sounds, smells and illuminations.
It did not want for this world. It wanted to be back with Its own malevolent forces. It loathed this disconnected place, where the vibrations and light burned, causing it pain. The darkness here in this world was not even equal to the darkness of the true chaos. How it longed to be back in the solemn abyss joined eternally in the void with Its on kind. It knew though that this place forced the dark ones to exist in torment next to man's light. They were abomination and demon demanded their blood. Would taste their flesh and devour there life until the songs were vibrant no more. This was what It was driven to do. The only connection It felt to this place, this realm of man was a destined destruction. It craved it with the passion. It desired to return to the abyss.
It was hungry now. The old man had weakened It with his magic. Had caused it pain. It needed to feed once more upon the fluid that ran through these things. It was stronger until the old man sent it hurling back into the hills, forcing it to disperse into the mist. It lost most of the energy It had acquired- now It wanted -no-needed more so that It may fight this magic man, who was not of natural man. Demon knew the smell of the old man. The old man was deity. Forged from magic and light of the gods to rid demon from man's world. Deities held back demon's from entering this realm and feeding on man. They were more of abomination than man himself. Deity had magic of gods. It wanted to feed on deity as well.
It knew the deity's energy would be enough to allow demons to break the mystical barrier and devour this putrid world with it's songs and smells. Things that created a eternal pain and contempt throughout the darkness. The darkness had came first and was the true form of everything. Then gods came with their light and magic beating back the dark. Caging demon against a veil of insufferable sounds, that taunted the dark with things of man.
The ocean churned with black waves, crashing against the ivory shoreline of jagged rock. The motility of the fluid broke into frothy eddies, that washed along the coarse sand of the small beach. The sky was pitch, and empty save the chromatic luminescence amidst raging tempest gathering in the horizon. The emirate soil lay barren as far as the eye could see, covered in the same black hue as the sky and the sea. The only assuagement came from the pale surface of the rocks resting along the long divide. Carrying it's chilling facade onto the beach.
Mark stood on the shore absorbing the horror around him. The land was no land he knew. He watched as the gelatinous liquid spew into the air around him as it hit the rocks. He felt the slimy substance brush against his ankles as it drifted inward along the pale colorless soil. It was black and thick. Mark related it to the waste churned out at the coal refineries, leeching into the basin of the sludge ponds. If this was such a place, it devoured the world as far as he could see around him, creating a nightmarish scene of char and ash.
As his eyes adjusted he was able to see more of the detail appointing this macabre landscape. The substance was one Mark had seen on several trips to the morgue during officer training as a cadet. It was the congealed rotting bile of human decay. The sea was a endless cesspool of death. The waves raged in a tempest of chaos, fighting to break free from containment. He stepped back from the water's edge, moving closer to the scorched ground that lay against the unstable current. The harsh shale beneath his feet hissed from his abrasive pass. Mark leaned down to pick up the debris, feeling it's rough edges between his fingers. This is not sand or rock Mark realized.
In his hand he held the shattered pieces of bone. He tossed it down against the sediment, as the incubus moment set upon him, the actualization that he stood on a beach of broken skeletal remains of what ever called this place home. This disturbing vile land compiled of darkness and bile once held life. As he moved up onto the solid ground, as dark as the sky around him, Mark focused his gaze on the rocks scattered along the jagged shore beyond the beach. Suddenly he could see the carved orifices outlining the rock face. Piles and piles of human skulls along with broken bone gathered at the shoreline, rising high above the breaks. The pale stained remains of life.
This was a dead world filled with hollow existence of a raging darkness and chaos. Mark hated this place. He wanted to be gone from here but could not will himself away from the horrific waltz swirling around him. The scorched earth, dusted with ash, lead out into an eternal abyss that rippled against the faint emerald haze of the choking disk, at the other end of the vast sea. Something was moving in the darkness, slithering against the silky veil of the black sky. He let his gaze rise further into the night. Serpentine motions from unseen forces flowed high above him whirling with fevered purpose.
Mark knew he was deep within some dream of repugnance, watching the girth of countless tentacles fight for space in the darkness. The slithering shapes writhing in a grotesque dance of atmospheric chaos, moving to and from the weak object pulsing with sickening shades of a dark-green aerosol. This was the world of demon. Mark knew it with certainty as he stood against the rotting carcass of a deceased land. Why can't I wake up? He screamed in though, fearful of the things crawling and drifting in the black sky. Serpents he thought as he watched the tendril masses ebb against one another.Brackish vile serpents too numerous to count devouring each other in a rampage of motion. They consumed the abyss and were the abyss. The two were inseparably unified in their evil reign.
Mark felt sick watching the spectral horde thicken as they reached the sea, moving closer to the green glow. The storm that he thought he saw before him was not clouds gathering. Instead it was the dark creatures forcing there way closer to the dying star. The demon's were choking out what must have once been a burning sun. They were devouring worlds with their copious numbers.
Mark fought against the dream, trying to wake himself. He knew it was a dream. It had to be a dream he said to himself. Suddenly the morbid pageantry that held him was gone. Replaced by the darkness he was more familiar with. It came with the painful sensation from his backside. He was now laying against the cold linoleum in the dark office. Mark was awake and away from the horrible nightmare. Nauseous from the images still lingering in his mind, and the emptiness he felt in his gut. He had woke from the dream by the aching hunger that had been building in his stomach.