For Whom the Bell Tolls

/ By AutumnReaper [+Watch]

Replies: 0 / 15 days 2 hours 14 minutes 39 seconds

[center ...never send to know for who the bell tolls; it tolls for thee...]

[center [i it tolls for thee...]]

[center ---]
[center Salem, Massachusetts. 1865. It wakes.]

An altar facing west. A candle. The sign of Belial. A virgin sacrifice, split and gutted like a lamb over the roasting spit. The darkest prayers meet the darkest desire.

"Forgive me, Elizabeth..." Julian glanced down at the tiny body, blood pooling beneath his feet. "You always wanted to be with mother..."
He clasps his fingers together, recites the incantation. And waits. And waits. And...

The ground trembles beneath him, and a ghastly cacophony of agonized screams caused him to hold his ears. The ringing... the ringing... Were those the church bells?
As the sound subsides, he glances at the blood in his hands.
[center [b [i THE GATEKEEPER]] arises from his slumber, deep in the sea, stirred by a young man's call for [b [i power]].]

Julian Hawthorne, aged 19, a particular nobody of little importance, watched frozen with panic, as the serpent King slithered his way from the portal that had called him.

[b [i Who daaaaares...]]

[center [b [i call me...]]]

[right [b [i ...from my slumber...]]]

Though deafened, he could clearly hear the demon's question. The bass in his voice spoke out over the cries from the open door below the Earth, filling the air with terrible, awful screams of those long since condemned... the damned... The treble shook Julian to his fragile, mortal core.

Leviathan opened his mouth, showing splintered human bones for teeth. [b [i I do believe they scream... for you...]]

[b [i B U R N!]]

Chanting engulfed the town's square as they set Julian ablaze for unleashing the power of the underworld on their quaint, God-fearing town. His flesh fell into the pyre around him, his blood rained down on those who stood too close as he flailed in agonizing pain, his desperate screams filling the bowels of Hell, then spilling back into the world, bringing raining brimstone to the town around him. By morning, the city was nothing but ash. And who was left to rise from it, but the Prince himself.

With death on the mind.

[center [b ---]]

[b David, the king,]
[b Was griev-ed and mov-ed,]
[b He went to his chamber, his chamber, and wept.]

Nathaniel collapsed, slumped over the empty grave, sobbing reluctantly. The choir's voices rang eerily from the ruined chapel behind him, as the town's men--or what was left of them--gingerly lowered the wooden box with his son's ashes inside. To the left, his little girl. To the right, his long dead wife, no doubt turning in her own eternal resting place at the state of her children's remains, laid beside her.

[b And as he wept, he wept and said,]
[b "Oh, my son! Oh, my son!"]

[b Would to God, I have died,]

Death is inevitable. Power, unobtainable. But, it need not be both.

[b Would to God, I have died,]

[b [center What are you willing to sacrifice?]]

[b Would to God, I have died,]

[center To the second avatar of Envy?]

[b For thee, O Absolam, my son, my son.]

[i [center Leviathan's Son.]]

PM if interested with brief character outline. Doesn't need to be fleshed out. Just needs to be clear as to whether you'd like this to be malexmale or malexfemale. I don't have a preference. I'll always write a male role. :)

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