The Summoning

"Let's get it out of the way" - said the gentleman in the red, embroidered jacket who wasn't sitting in a chaise longue in the corner of the room just a moment before. "You have not summoned me here. You've attempted to do so in your hubris and shortsightedness, but you've failed miserably." He looked around the room at the thirteen women dressed in nothing but ceremonial jewelry. Their sight was fixed on him but their stare was blank, devoid of any thought, like there was nothing happening behind their still eyes. All motionless. All except one.

“Yet there you are” - the priestess in front smirked. Her voice was deep and confident, devoid of any sign of reverence and fear, the gentleman was used to hearing. “My coven has gathered. Our sacrifice has been made. The words of summoning have been uttered in the forbidden tongue. Yet you claim your appearing here had nothing to do with any of it? There are places where the outcome and the cause are perpetually divorced, but to the best of my knowledge, this is not one of them.”

The smug grin on the male’s face changed into an expression of unamused contempt. “The fact I’m here had everything to do with that fumbled rite of yours, girl. But make no mistake, I came here of my own volition, not bound by your will. Whatever you did here looks like an offering and I could hear your words through space and time, but it smells wrong. It has no tinge, no taste, no substance. I came here curious to see how someone could botch a summoning so badly.” He yawned, ostentatiously. “I’m bored now, so I’ll just teach you a lesson and I’ll be on my way. The lesson is, dear lady witch, that there’s a price to pay for everything, and incompetence costs blood.”

He was up in an eyeblink, his left hand - suddenly knotty and hard like an ancient olive tree and adorned with long, sharp claws - shooting for the woman’s throat. But she wasn’t there anymore. The claws connected with one of her still motionless covenants. With the sound like sand being blown by the wind across a marble floor, the figure dispersed into a cloud of dust. An expression of disbelief and confusion passed through the man’s face. “You are not in control here, demon” - her whisper sounded right next to his ear. Somehow, the priestess was behind him. “What is this!” - he let out an angry growl, his face suddenly turned into one of a primal beast, bearing teeth in a furious snarl.

“Enough of this game” - she proclaimed, clapping her hands together. In an instant, they were alone. The room was gone, with all of its velvet drapperies, shiny stone floors covered in arcane sigils, and scented, musky candles. There was only blackness - the deepest kind, that can be only found in absence of all matter. “You are not mistaken. The ritual was not what you’d expect. In fact, there was no ritual. No coven. No room. It was just me, beckoning you into my realm, willing images into your head. There’s one of you in every single universe, and I’ve been to quite a lot of them by now. I will give it to you - you’ve picked up on my deception faster than any of your counterparts.” Her eyes were now black holes, and her voice sounded like it was coming from miles away.

“Release me, you cow! You have no idea what you’re up against. I am the lord of the damned. I’m the father to all nightmares. I am the one at the end of the road. You will not scare me with darkness - I own all darkness! I am…”

“This isn’t darkness, this is the Void, and you have no power here.” It was her hand reaching out for his throat this time around, drawing him near. Her lips touched his mouth and a moment later she released his shriveled, empty husk from his embrace. All horrors of this universe were now her’s to command.