2 comments/ 6259 views/ 13 favorites Demon Spawn By: bigtddybr Is the price worth the cure? This is my first attempt at Erotic Horror, so please bear with me. I appreciate critical reviews, however, the reviews should be of a nature that will allow me to build on my creative writing ability, vice just being hurtful. If you want to rant, then write your own stories. I will happily critic them (though never in a hurtful manner...) Like many of my stories, this starts out slow, setting the mood. But when the action starts, it does so with a dramatic bang. This tory leaves things open, un-ended. If there is enough interest, I will provide a second finishing chapter. Enjoy. Ian Miller had carried his wife Heather down the long curved tunnel some three miles into the darkness from the entrance of the cave. Flanked by chanting men and women holding guttering torches, he trudged tirelessly onwards to their final destination. His wife weighed almost nothing, a mere 80lbs. At 28 she should have been in the prime of her life, instead of days away from death. Semi-conscious, she occasionally opened her eyes and smiled at him, aware only that he held her, and not where she was. A much older, but far wealthier woman was being carried by a group of four men on a litter nearer the front of the line of men and women, an older man that Ian presumed to be her husband trudging along beside the litter. Another much younger couple walked not far ahead of the older couple. Ian's escort, a self-proclaimed acolyte, walked silently beside him. He had met her earlier in the week in the little town's church, far above where he now walked. Though no one had been in the church, it was open and kept clean so he had walked in and begun to pray for guidance and for a miracle. "We can save her." A woman's voice said. Ian vaguely looked up to see a woman clad in a simple white dress that hung down almost to her feet, which were clad in simple sandals. The dress was pulled tight to her body with a rope belt around her waist. It was obvious that she wore no bra as the dress showed off the body beneath it without openly exposing it. Ian thought that the somewhat risqué display was oddly out of place in the little church. "Forgive me, are you a member of the congregation here?" Ian asked. "An Acolyte," she replied in perfect though heavily accented English. "Though not of this congregation. But I often come here when I am called." "Who called you?" he'd asked, his curiosity briefly peeked. "You did, even if you did not know it." She answered. He had looked at her then, seriously looked at her for the first time since she had intruded on his prayers. She was a lovely woman, perhaps in her early thirties. Her light brown hair was almost blonde and framed the face of a true beauty. His heart leapt in his chest at the sight of her. This is what Heather should look like! He thought to himself. The woman's image blurred as the thought brought strong emotions to him. Suddenly she was holding him and he was crying hard. His face was buried in her breasts, the cloth there becoming soaked with his tears. The emotions of three years of bitter disappointments spilled out of him. Their initial attempts at having a child, the failure of which leading to medical tests that showed she had cancer. The long downward spiral of failed radiation and chemotherapy treatments. The disease slowly ravaging his wife's beauty and vitality. His long desperate search for help going unanswered. Two months ago he had heard a rumour, a small town in the middle of nowhere in Eastern Europe that was purported to have cured many diseases. Against his doctor's advice, he had taken his wife and come to the town's hospital, where doctors there had told him what he already knew, his wife had only a short time to live. Now he was being held by an unknown woman in the town's only church, crying as he begged for help for his wife. "We can help her." She told him quietly. "But there is a price to be paid. You may not like what that price may be." She told him bluntly. Ian looked at her again. Though she was beautiful, there was something oddly strange about the woman. As he looked up into her eyes he knew what it was. Her eyes had the look of aged wisdom about them. As if this woman had seen many things in the apparent short years of age that separated him from her. Something in those eyes called to him, sought him out. They seemed to look deep into his soul. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as those eyes stared into his. He wasn't frightened by her. But there was something about her eyes that spoke of experiences that few could have acquired even in many lifetimes. And that brought a cautious respect from deep within him. Her last words repeated in his mind and as if she had spoken them clearly, and he responded. "Anything." He gasped out. "Anything at all, I will pay any price even if it dams my soul." "So be it." She had said and at the sound of those words a strange peace settled over him. He knew he had committed himself to something unknown, perhaps even dangerous, but he also knew he would do anything for his wife. A few hours later he was in his hotel when his room door, which he thought he had locked, opened and the Acolyte entered ahead of another woman. He recognized the mystery woman immediately, he had seen her many times in and around the little town. She was referred to simply as the 'Priestess', though of what religion he had no idea. The Acolyte stepped aside and bowed to the other. The Priestess did not acknowledge her as she stepped forward to look at Ian. The woman's presence was like a blow to his male pride. The overall impression was of overt sexuality tied to innate beauty. He felt himself reacting to her presence on a primal level, his groin twitching at the sight of this incredibly beautiful woman. It was a feeling he hadn't had since before they discovered his wife's illness, and one he didn't particularly want to feel at this point in time. She was tall, only one inch shorter than his own 6'2" height. Her stunningly gorgeous and statuesque figure was draped in a sheer diaphanous gown made of layers of material playing on a single colour, in this case reds, the colours of autumn. The colours became stronger the deeper toward her body the eye travelled. While the material covered her it did not fully hide from sight the utter beauty of her naked form, clearly visible beneath, yet at the same time the gown sheathed her body from prying eyes. Thus the longer he stared the less visible she was beneath the gown. The effect was to showcase her awesome nudity at a casual glance, yet hide it from prying eyes. Her feet were clad with a simple but effective Greek style leather sandals with laces winding up strong calves to tie just below her dimpled knees. She wore no jewelry. What Ian initially thought was a veil turned out to be her rich, dark hair that hung down to the middle of her back. It seemed to be floating, moving in the still air as if blown by a gentle wind. It fluttered around the sides of her incredibly beautiful face, both framing it and giving him that impression of a gossamer veil as it floated gently in the unfelt breeze. Centered on her head she wore what appeared at first site to be an elaborate crown of thorns, perhaps six inches in height. On closer inspection it turned out to be a crown of wicker branches. A trick of the light made it appear as if the branches were moving, twisting and turning into slightly different shapes as she moved her head but still retaining the overall shape of a crown. He convinced himself that the impression of movement was due to the interaction of the light, the crown, and the floating hair. She wore no makeup, but then she didn't need it. At first look he had thought her very young. Her face was the face of a goddess but, like the Acolyte, her eyes held a depth of aged wisdom that was out of place on a woman of her apparent age. As Ian thought this, a ghost of a smile twitched on her full, luscious lips. She began to speak in a rich, lilting voice that was like liquid silk. The tones were the epitome of the perfect woman's voice and sent a shiver up Ian's spine. The Acolyte immediately began to translate. "We can help your wife," she had said. "But there is a price to pay, both by your wife and by you. The price must be made willingly by both of you in your turn." "Whatever the price I will pay it." Ian said almost at once. "Be careful what you say. You do not fully understand yet that price." The Priestess replied through the Acolyte. "Both of you must willingly accept the price. We will give her the gift of health and vitality, but if she refuses the price, that gift will be revoked. As she is close to death, she may not survive the gifts withdrawal. "In your turn you must accept the price. Your refusal will not mean your wife will lose the gifts given, but your life will be irrevocably changed in a way that may well destroy your marriage, and perhaps your mind and the mind of your wife. "We will arrange for you to meet with others who have paid the price. You will not be told what the price is, as the choice must be made freely, willingly, and in the moment. Do not ask them for more than they reveal to you." Ian thought this a rather odd requirement but agreed to it immediately. The Priestess turned to the Acolyte and spoke to her briefly before leaving the room, the Acolyte bowing as she left. "The moon will be in the right place Thursday evening. I will arrange for you to be allowed to speak tomorrow to a couple who have been through the ceremony. If you wish to continue after this meeting I am to be your escort during the ceremony. No further offers will be made. This will be your one and only chance to save your wife. I have been to the hospital and know that she has only days to live. Nothing known of this earth can save her." Without another word the Acolyte left the room, the door closing on its own accord behind her, her last words hanging in the room almost as if in warning. Ian moved to ensure the door was locked, unwilling to be interrupted again. He found the door not only fully locked but even the safety lock was in place. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise, but strangely he found it oddly comforting that the two women could have walked through the locked door. The next day the Acolyte was waiting for him as he exited the hospital. He was taken to a house just off the market. Surprisingly the couple were American. He was invited in and given coffee. The woman appeared to be in her early thirties, the man perhaps a few years her elder. They greeted him warmly. As they drank their coffee they chatted amicably. There was a child, perhaps two years of age. When Ian sat at the table, the child came up to him rather boldly. No fear there. Ian thought. The child smiled delightedly almost as if he was responding to his thoughts. Once again the hair went up on the back of Ian's neck. He took a closer look at the child and somehow wasn't surprised to see the same eyes as that of the Priestess and the Acolyte. Wisdom beyond the boy's years seemed to radiate from them. When he looked back to his hosts the parents were watching him, quietly appraising him. "Is the price worth it?" he asked them. "We think so." They replied. Ian left soon after, the image of the boy stuck in his mind. He suddenly had a suspicion as to what the price might be. Was he willing to pay it? Anything! He thought. Anything! In the early evening of the following Thursday, his Acolyte - as he was now beginning to think of her, arrived at his room carrying a simple black cloak and sandals. She threw them on the bed revealing her outfit to him as she did so. Her feet were still clad in sandals, but she now wore a gown of a white, single layer diaphanous material that clearly showed her voluptuous body beneath it. It was tied in three places, at her neck, below her breasts and below her groin. On her head, she wore a smaller version of the crown the Priestess had worn only this crown did not seem to move. "Remove all your cloths and put on the sandals and cloak." She told him. She stayed were she was, waiting expectantly for him to complete the task at hand. Ian quickly pulled off his cloths and put the cloak on. He was irked by her appraising stare. Apparently, he had passed some kind of test with her, for she gave a brief nod as he slipped the cloak on. The cloak was made of a diaphanous, light-weight, sturdy, black material. Due to the black colouring, it did not seem to show as much of his form as her outfit showed of hers. As with the Acolytes gown, it tied at three places, at the neck, at his chest, and below his groin. He tied the sandals to his feet, but when he went to pull the hood up over his head, she stopped him. "As a Supplicant, you go with head bared." She told him. She told him to leave everything behind and to follow her. As they left the hotel, he saw a procession of about 50 men and 50 women. All were similarly clad to him and his Acolyte though hoods were pulled up over their heads. They all carried an unlit torch in each of their hands. The torches looked odd. Noting where he was looking, his Acolyte informed him: "The torches been treated with a special resin that allows them to burn much longer. Torches normally burn for only an hour. These will burn for most of the night." He was escorted by his Acolyte to a place between the rows of men and women, men on the right - women on the left, nearer to the end of the procession. His Acolyte walked with him on his left. Ahead of him were what he assumed to be two other Supplicants and their acolytes, a young man and an older man, all with their heads bared. At the head of the procession was the Priestess trailed by two more Acolytes. They walked quietly out of the town and up into the mountains along a narrow mountain road barely wide enough for the procession. The sun was beginning to set as the procession came to an overgrown trail going from the road to the mouth of a large cave in the distant. As soon as the procession moved onto this trail, the men and women began to chant in an eerie, guttural language unlike anything that Ian had ever heard before. The words seemed to be mostly consonants with few vowels interspersed among the clipped, throaty sounds. Odd whistles, clicks, and other sounds were interspersed within the chanting. The chanting continued as they walked toward the cave. By the time they arrived at the mouth of the cave, the sun had nearly set. The Priestess and her two Acolytes moved to the center of the cave while the procession of men and women split to either side. To the left of the Priestess Ian saw his wife sitting in a sedan chair, clad in a white gown, her head uncovered. Her skin, stretched tightly across her face, had a deathly grey pallor to it. Sitting in the open in the chair, she seemed to have lost even more weight than when she was in her bed in hospital. Her hair had lost most of its colour, though it still hinted at the red tresses she used to have. Two women, dressed as the others with heads covered, were busily working to remove various medical shunts and needles from Heather's arms and legs. Ian briefly caught the faces of the women and recognized them as nurses from the hospital. On one side of his wife an old woman sat in another sedan chair. She too was dressed in a gown with uncovered head. Her desiccated and shrivelled body, thinner even than Heather's, looked like nothing more than skin and bones. Her skin was a patchwork of large brown liver spots and wrinkles. She had a few patches of uncoloured hair hanging limply from her scalp. Ian estimated her age as at least late nineties. The old man at the head of the procession moved beside her. The age difference was large, Ian estimated him to be in his early sixties. Beside the older woman stood a beautiful woman with head bared. She had the typical looks of the local people. The young man joined her as Ian moved to take his place beside his wife. The Priestess spoke briefly in the guttural language and began to move toward the back of the cave, where Ian noticed what appeared to be the entrance to a tunnel. The procession lit torches as they passed the fire near the tunnel entrance. Men and women took it in turns to place a torch in a holder every few hundred feet or so along the curving tunnel as they marched. The young man took hold of the young lady's hand and they began to follow. Four men came forward and picked up the sedan chair of the older woman. Her husband trailed along, holding her hand as they began the long walk into the darkness. Ian reached down and as he did, the two nurses helped him lift Heather into his arms. He was shocked at how light she was. Heather briefly opened her eyes and smiled at him. Her eyes, once so vibrantly green, had a washed out look to them. Almost immediately her eyes closed and her head rolled onto his left shoulder. This close to her, he could smell the foul, fêted stench of the disease on her as she breathed. Despite her lightened weight, it wasn't much into the descent before he found himself tiring from carrying her frail body. He concentrated on the sounds of the chanting, the words spoken in an odd rhythmic cadence unlike anything he had ever heard before. But, the more he concentrated on sounds, the clearer they seemed to become and the easier the faltering, stumbling rhythm came to him. "They are letting him know we are seeking his help, asking for his blessing." His Acolyte told him. "Do you want to know what they are saying?" She asked. At his nod, she began to recite in English, a language that it was immediately apparent to Ian that did not fit the cadence or rhythm of what was being translated. "We three walk your halls, moving to join you in the other place below. We are three who have been harmed by man, women who have done not to deserve our fate. "One who is poisoned by man and has become old before her time; we beseech that you restore her vitality that she may live the life she should. "One who has been poisoned and is unable to conceive, we beseech that you restore to her the gift of life that only women can bring. "One whose body has been ravaged by disease. We beseech that you restore her health, her vitality that she may live the life she should. "They who walk with us are seeking your aid, your strength, and your guidance. They are willing to pay the price asked for your gifts, the women this night, the men in their time. "We ask that you accept the price and bestow your gifts on these three. "These are the words we speak." The Acolyte finished. Ian took time to look at the woman. Once more he noted the aged look in her eyes. What was it she had seen, had endured to have such eyes? He wondered. Ian began to concentrate harder on the chanting. He slowly began to catch the rhythm and found himself moving with it. As he did so, he found that he was better able to endure the long walk in the dark tunnel. He seemed to be drawing strength from the chanting. The chanting slowly filtered into his mind. He found that he could pick out words here and there that fell into place with the translation given him. Once he did so, it was easier to believe he could understand the strange words. He began to chant along with the procession, slowly gaining confidence in the pronunciation and conviction that he was saying it correctly. A glance at his Acolyte showed she was surprised at his ability. She gave him a nod and a brief smile. Heather woke up from time to time, listening to the chanting and watching her husband. The odd sounds grated on her nerves, but somehow seemed to sooth her mind. She drifted in and out of sleep with the chanting going on around her. Demon Spawn Ian became more proficient at the chant, but one word seemed to slip by his mind each time it passed. It seemed to form completely in his mind, then simply vanish, as if he was reading a word that had been erased from a book as he read it. No matter how hard he tried, he could not seem to grasp the word, to speak it, or even to hold it briefly in his thoughts. "You must believe." His Acolyte spoke suddenly. "It is his name, and can only be heard, thought and spoken by those who believe." Ian thought this was an unusual idea, but the harder he concentrated on the word, the more difficult it was even to think of it, while all around him the members of the procession were clearly able to speak that very name. Ian began to think, not about the word, but about what he was doing in the tunnel. He was bringing his wife to meet this (person, entity?), from another place (world, dimension?). He had no idea if this entity could help his wife or not, but the procession seemed to believe he could help all three of the Supplicants. Even though their problems were essentially not related to each other. His mind formed around that thought that the members of the local community truly believed this. They respected the church, they respected the local authorities. But it was clear they held a belief that was more than just spoken words from a book. These people believed they were going to meet a being who would be able to help the Supplicants. Ian took faith in this. If the townspeople believed then, until proven otherwise, he would too. He would ask this being to help, he would ask CTHRKZHOU (pronounced Chith Rik Zhii-Ǒw) for his help. Without realizing it, Ian spoke the word aloud. His wife's eyes flew open and he felt her shudder in his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Acolyte stumble briefly, her head turned abruptly to look at him. He knew that he should not have been able to speak the name, nor even to form the thought of the name in his mind, but somehow he was able to do it. And having spoken the name, he somehow understood something of the nature of this creature. "It is not of this world is it?" he asked the Acolyte. "No, it is not." She replied. "Can you tell me what it is?" he asked. "You would call it a Demon. But it is not. It is something from another place, another plane of existence. It can come here only under certain conditions, including being summoned by those who believe." She intoned. "A Demon? Yet the Church has not sought to send it back?" The Acolyte barked a single laugh. "CTHRKZHOU was old when man was young. He existed before the time of communities, before the time of authority, before the time of religion. "They have all tried to ban him, or to supplant him, or to kill him or those they call his worshipers. But we are still here and he is still here and he will endure until man is old." Abruptly Ian's thoughts were interrupted as the left side of the tunnel disappeared, showing the procession walking down an outside spiral into a rather large underground cave. He could see moonlight shining down from above. Looking up, he saw that the top of the mountain had a large hole in it that allowed the moonlight to find the floor of the cave. Ian surmised that this would happen only a few of times per year. The walls sparkled in the combined light of the moon and fluttering torches. A closer look showed a glass like surface. Obsidian, he realized. This must have once been a volcano, long since extinct. The light flashed off the highly reflective dark material making it glitter like starlight. As the procession moved downward into the cavern, the combined light was reflected again and again off the dark surfaces until the cavern was filled with sombre twinkling lights. The chanting group walked one complete turn before spiralling down to the dusty floor of the cavern. The procession divided into two, men and women crossing from one side to the other to form couples as they moved out in a broad half circle that looked into a place in the cave that was unnaturally dark. Several hollow logs and odd, primitive looking drums, and odd looking bone instruments sat in the dust before the line of chanters. The Supplicants moved in front of this line, the Priestess and the two Acolytes still in front. The Priestess moved to a spot about halfway across the large opening to what appeared to be the stones of an old fire pit, her five Acolytes behind her and four women carrying baskets behind them. One of the Acolytes took new burning material from a basket placed it in the pit at the Priestess' feet. At the Priestess' gestures, the nine women moved forward and began to dump powder from baskets onto the floor. They quickly formed three large incomplete circles one inside each other, the top portion of which formed parallel lines opening the circles into the unnaturally dark portion of the cave. The parallel lines of the inner circle were approximately 20 feet apart. The circle formed at the base of the parallel lines and contained a large stone altar and a circle of burned stones from an old fire pit at its center in which the women placed new burning material. The women drew three circles each approximately 15 feet across near the back of this inner circle. The second circle was approximately drawn forty-five feet larger from and encasing the inner circle. This circle also enclosed a fire pit in its center, though close to the lines of the inner circle, and some kind of rectangular stone object on the left hand side. Inside this new circle, they drew three smaller circles each 20 feet across near the back of the second circle. The women placed new burning material in the fire pit at the front of the second circle. The largest circle encompassed the inner and second circles. This one with lines approximately sixty feet from the second circle. It too had a fire pit close to the second circle, which the ladies replenished, and three 20 foot circles all in line at the rear but no other objects. Like the original circle, the second and third circles were broken circles with parallel lines moving off into the darkest part of the cave. Outside and at the rear of the third circle was the fire pit at which the Priestess stood. The three Acolytes rejoined their respective supplicants, the two assisting Acolytes stood behind the Priestess, while the other women melted into the congregation at the back. The chanting suddenly took on a new vibrancy. The singers were no longer chanting the words they spoke in the tunnel. Now they were chanting something very different. Already having a sense of the words from the previous chant, Ian found he was slowly understanding the new ones. They were calling out to CTHRKZHOU, asking him to step forth into this world. Asking him to aid the Supplicants in the cave. To bestow his gifts apon them. Asking him to approve of his faithful followers. As they chanted they began to dance while striking the hollow logs, drums, and bone instruments. The sounds they created were so different that they almost did not seem to be instruments made by human hands. Slowly at first, then wilder and with much more abandonment they danced, chanted, and played their instruments. Cloaks and gowns became undone and drifted to the ground, the chanters dancing naked now. The remaining torches sending long shadows of the dancers high up onto the sides of the cave. The Priestess turned to face the Supplicants and her congregation. She raised her arms up, her feet slightly apart her gown untied and open. Her stunning figure was on full display and Ian found himself getting aroused. He couldn't believe how incredibly beautiful and sexually alluring this woman was. The woman began to dance in time to the sounds of her congregation's chanting. Her movements were fluid, sensual, and captivating. She moved with the lithe grace of a born dancer. Her arms swayed in counter-movement to her gyrating hips. Her perfect breasts wobbled to and fro, sliding in and out of her gown to the movements of her body. Her hair flung out and around as she spun and turned in place. Her body flashed in the glittering torchlight as she moved, showing her front, her back, her breasts, her incredible ass, the dark triangle between her thighs. Ian was spell bound by the sight of her. Suddenly stopping, she raised her right hand high in the air. In it she held a black object. Ian recognized an obsidian knife. She raised her left hand out, over the fire pit. A single stroke of her right hand over her left palm left an ugly open wound on her palm. She held her cut hand to allow blood to drip into the fire pit at her side. The pit abruptly erupted in rich red flames. The flame reached up to lick at the material of the Priestess' gown. It caught, bursting into brilliant red light and quickly engulfed the Priestess' form. Ian gasped and, despite holding his wife, lurched forward to help the burning woman. His Acolyte stretched out her arm to block him. He turned a withering look on the Acolyte and then turned to see what was happening to the Priestess. The woman was completely engulfed in flame. Her gown and hair burning furiously. The sounds of the flames seemed to mock Ian, taunting him to come to help the woman. Ian could feel the heat from where he stood. He knew instinctively that it was far too late to do anything at this point. The flames seem to jump from the Priestess to the line of the rearmost large circle immediately in front of her. The line burst into brilliant red flame, jumping again into the three smaller circles. The powder burned quickly, moving in perfect synchronization around the greater circle and out into the darkness pointed to by the parallel lines. Oddly, despite how bright the flames were, the darkness at the far end of the cave was not breached. As the fire receded, it left a reddish ash in its wake. Ian found himself looking toward the Priestess. She turned slowly towards them. The fire had burned away her gown, but had not burned her hair or body. She stood, panting from the exertions of her dancing. Her stunning nudity was on full display to her entire congregation, now on its knees bowing to her, still chanting. The Priestess stepped from within the fire and the flames receded. Her flesh was pale and unburnt, her dark hair floating gently in an unfelt wind. She lifted her left hand, showing that it was no longer cut. Ian had seen the slash she had made with the knife and knew the cut was real. The only evidence that she had once stood within the flames was on her head, where the crown of wicker branches was still burning with bright red flames. The smaller flames made snapping and popping sounds as they sent guttering sparks out at all angles. The woman turned and danced to the second fire pit within the red circle. Sparks from the fire on her head grew more frequent and flew further out the closer she came to the second pit. One of the sparks fell onto the material at her feet as she stepped onto it. Yellow flames burst forth to lick at her, engulf her. They seemed to caress her form, to hungrily touch her body. But no matter how hungry the flames, her body was left unmarred by the deadly inferno. The flames jumped to the second circle and raced around it leaving a circle of yellow ash. The flames that were lovingly caressing the Priestess subsided leaving her to dance forward once again into the newly formed yellow circle. The small fire on her head was now yellow in colour. She moved to the next pit and the sequence was repeated as white flame burst forth, the cycle leaving circles of white ash. She stepped forward once more into the innermost circle to stand beside the last fire. His Acolyte turned to him. "Under no circumstances are you to enter the white circle. This is the circle of women, and any man who enters it will suffer horribly. When you move into the circles, step carefully. Do not tread on or break the ash. You will break the ceremony and He will return to his world, leaving the Supplicants without their gifts. Be warned: if you do not want to pay the price, do not take the opportunity from those who will!" She took his arm and advised him to step slowly into the red circle. She guided him into the large red circle and then into one of the smaller ones. At 20 feet across, there was plenty of room for the three of them. Ian looked to his left to see the young couple and their Acolyte already there, while the bearers were placing the sedan chair of the old woman in the circle as her husband and their Acolyte stepped into it behind them. The bearers left to return outside the large red circle. The two single Acolytes stood one pace behind and one pace to either side of the other three circles. The congregation began chanting yet another different chant. They were moving slowly to the rhythm, men and women touching and rubbing naked bodies against each other. Ian noticed that many of the men were getting erections. He found that he too was semi-hard. The young couple and their Acolyte removed their gowns and cloak and moved naked out of the Red circle and into the Yellow circles. Next to move was older man and his Acolyte as they removed their cloak and gown. He reached down to help his elderly wife to stand. From the chant heard in the tunnels, he assumed that the old woman would be approximately the same age as the man. She looked like she was in her late nineties or older and not in particularly good shape for that age either. The old man and the Acolyte helped the woman to remove her gown, then they slowly made their way into the Yellow circles. It was now Ian's turn. His Acolyte opened and dropped her gown. She turned to take Heather briefly into her arms while Ian removed his cloak. He opened Heather's gown and as he took her back into his arms, the Acolyte helping to remove it. Naked the three of them carefully stepped out of their small red circle and moved into their small Yellow circle. The two single Acolytes followed suit stepping naked into their respective places one pace to the rear and to the sides of the three Supplicants. The chanting and dancing of the congregation became louder and wilder. Ian was beginning to be affected by the sounds and movements. He found himself wanting to follow the steps and hum, sing, or chant with the others. When the intensity of the sounds and chanting reached a crescendo, the young couple and their Acolyte left their circle and moved to the stone box. "It is a Locilus." His Acolyte told him. Ian recognized it as a Latin word that held several meanings; 'coffin' among them, but also a 'locus of power'. As the trio reached the Locilus, the couple touched the top of the stone and as they did so it slowly rotated opened. The young man helped the young woman into it, giving her a tender kiss as she lay down within it. The man and his Acolyte touched the top of the box and it closed. He and the Acolyte returned to their small circle. The older couple moved slowly to the Locilus with their Acolyte. As the trio reached the Locilus and the couple touched the stone top it slowly opened for them. The old man kissed the woman and helped her into the Locilus. She lay down and he and the Acolyte touched the top of the box and it slowly closed. The man and his Acolyte returned to their small circle. Ian walked slowly out of his small Yellow circle with his Acolyte at his side and moved to the Locilus. When they arrived, Ian reached down to lift the lid but found it impossible to move, especially while holding Heather. Heather opened her eyes and smiled and him. Her arm haplessly slid down his own and her hand touched the lid alongside his. Almost immediately, Ian found it much easier to lift it. It swung upwards almost on its own accord. He did not see or hear a mechanism, nor did he see any signs of a counterbalance, but the impossibly heavy lid opened smoothly. Ian expected to see the other two women, but the box was empty. Surprised, he looked at his Acolyte. She smiled and nodded to him but did not offer any explanations. A cursory exam showed the inside of the Locilus was barely large enough for his wife. He wondered what had happened to the other women. Ian placed his wife into the box. As he lowered her down, he felt the sensation of warm water, though he did not see any. The box appeared bone dry and he appeared to be lowering Heather into the dusty bottom of the box, yet she seemed to float briefly. Surprised, Ian lowered his wife and saw a sheen, as though from the type of bio-illuminous microbes you occasionally saw in the oceans, cross her body. He kissed his wife and released her into the box. She almost appeared to be sinking into water though none was evident. Heather's eyes closed immediately after the kiss. Ian reached up to pull the lid closed but once again it refused to move. The Acolyte touched the top of the box alongside Ian's hand and it began to close on its own accord. Heather looked to be sleeping peacefully as the lid closed on her. His Acolyte took his hand and led him back to his small circle. Deprived now of his need to care for his wife, Ian began to notice the increased tempo of chanting and wildness of the dancing. It was a song of lust, of desire, of sexual need. The dancing had become almost erotic in nature. All the men were sporting solid erections. Men and women were no longer tentatively touching, or rubbing, but were aggressively engaged in actions that would be seen as pornographic if they were actually engaged in sex. As he passed by the other supplicants, he noted them dancing wildly with their Acolytes. They too were showing their state of arousal. The sounds of beating drums, the odd tones of the bone instruments, and the hollow logs filtered with the odd guttural chanting stirred his emotions. From somewhere deep inside him, he had a sense of shared sensations, as if he was remembering a half buried thought, a memory of others dancing like this. Somehow, he found his body moving to the beat. Sweat began to build on him as he danced more and more frenetically to the odd sounding cadence. He became aware of his Acolyte close to him, restricted with him within the same circle. The feeling of great space he previously had faded away as he became aware of her close proximity within their small yellow circle. As their movements became wilder, they inevitably touched each other. First hands and hair, then arms and finally tentative bumps of their bodies. Vaguely, Ian was aware of the Priestess dancing in the inner circle. She was sensuously moving around the central fire pit. She walked into the pit. Immediately it burst into a rich Blue flame. As Ian watched, fascinated, the flames touched and caressed her body. They moved slowly up her legs to her hips. Ian's senses seemed to be heightened as he was intimately aware that the touch of the flames on the Priestess' crotch seemed to bring her immense pleasure. The flames curled around her hips, covered her ass. They slowly moved up to her breasts. It almost seemed as if the flames were caressing them, squeezing them, pinching the nipples. Ian shook his head, but when he looked back, the Priestess was once again completely engulfed in flame. Had he not seen it happen already, he would have feared for her safety, if not her life. As before, sparks flew from the fire, this time shooting out much further afield. Sparks fell on both the altar and surprisingly on the Locilus. To Ian's imagination, they appeared to briefly shimmer with blue light. The Priestess stepped from the flame and it abruptly died from around her body but left a softly shimmering blue light hugging tightly to her skin and a bright blue flame lustily burning in the crown on her head. She held her hand over the still burning blue fire pit. The shimmering blue light seemed to drip off her hand into the fire. Immediately blue smoke poured forth. Ian expected it to rise upwards, but it surprised him by hugging the ground. As it spread, it encountered the other fire pits, which began to belch forth smoke in the same colours they had burned in: white, yellow and red; mixing thoroughly with the blue smoke from the inner fire as the red fire was engaged, then spreading throughout the large chamber. Demon Spawn As the noxious mixture reached Ian, his head seemed to tilt and spin. He found himself hyper sensitive to sounds, scents, movement and feelings. His skin could almost feel the movements of the dancers on the air currents. He could smell the sweat on their skin, and the arousal of men and women in the throes of passion. His eyes tuned into a vibrant series of colours unlike any he had witnessed before. He suddenly became acutely aware of his Acolyte, now dancing closer and closer to him. The brief, almost hesitant touches they had been making up till now, became anything but brief, and far more deliberate in nature. This close to him, he could smell her excitement, her arousal, and, oddly enough, his own. He felt his balls literally pulsing. His cock bouncing in the rhythm of his body to the dance, and to the more intimate rhythm of his heartbeat. His heart seemed to be mimicking the sounds of the drums, hammering the cadence in his chest. His groin, denied for three years, screamed out its lust. His mind seemed to lose itself in his body's quest for satisfaction, his lust, his incredible need. Around him, he became aware of many couples actively engaging in sex. He was aware of men laying on their backs with women sitting astride them frantically moving up and down. Other men stood with their women wrapped around them. Ian could clearly see their cocks slipping in and out of their paramours bodies. The pistoning phalluses reflected the fire and torch lights from their shiny surfaces, catching his eye like a wave of tiny living disco lights. Couples moved in different patterns, coupling in a wide variety of styles and positions. They even moved amongst themselves, openly swapping and sharing with each other in pairs...and in groups. The sounds of the slick movements, of the cries of passion reverberated in his head. The wild chanting and thumping of the logs and drums seemed to inflame his passions, his desires. And the smells, oh God the smells. His nose soaked up the pheromones that permeated the cave, his body reacting to each new scent. The smell of their lust, their rut, permeated his senses. The scents triggered passions within him that he had not felt since before his wife's crisis. Ian reeled from the onslaught of open sexuality. His head could barely keep coherent or objective thoughts on the sights and sounds surrounding him. His heart burst with its needs and his prick freely oozed precum as it sought out the nearest object of its desires, the only woman within easy reach...his Acolyte. Their dancing had become far more erotic in nature as their tentative touches moved to open rubbing of their bodies against each other. The wilder the cacophony of sounds, smells, and images the more aroused the two became. She was pushing herself against him now, front to front. She moved up and down his body, trailing her breasts against his chest and stomach. His rampant prick twitched every time it collided with her moving form. All thoughts of correctness, all attempts at reasoned thought were gone from his mind. The only thoughts he had were driven by lust and desire. She spun around and bent in front of him, pushing herself back until his pulsing erection was trapped between the cheeks of her warm and enticing ass. She bent at the waist, her hands reaching for the ground. He felt her buttocks slide over his manhood as she moved. He could feel the heat and wetness of her vagina pressing against the underside his prick. It near drove him insane! Without warning, she lifted onto her tip toes and leaned forward, changing the angle of her attack, dragging the tip of his tumescence through the wet valley of her sex. He couldn't take it anymore and pushed himself hard against her. An explosion of pleasure ripped through his brain as he felt himself sink into her warm folds. He reached out and grabbed her hips, pulling her hard to his groin. He buried himself completely in a single thrust....but he didn't stop there... His mind was overwhelmed by his body's desires, its needs. He pulled back and thrust forward hard, slamming into the soft cushion of her ass. Again and again he thrust into her. His frantic movements became harder, faster, and deeper as their bodies raced to completion together. The feel of her exquisitely hot and tightly gripping wet well was quickly bringing them both to bursting. He felt her pulse, her inner muscles massaging his hard shaft. The slick wetness gripped him tightly and refused to let go. With one final thrust, Ian slammed into her and held himself rigid against her as a burst of agonizingly wonderful pleasure tore through every fibre of his body. He felt his balls pull up and his prick swell as shot after shot of his essence sprayed into the Acolyte's receptive cunt. A fierce, guttural cry broke from the very core of his body as he spent himself within her. A cry that was echoed by the Acolyte as she welcomed what he released into her womb. After what seemed an eternity but was likely only a minute, he felt the tension drain from him and he collapsed onto her back. He barely managed to keep them on their feet and in the center of the small circle, mindful of the admonition not to scuff the ash. The Acolyte stood, and as she did so his softening prick slid from within her slippery folds. As Ian looked down, he saw a great gush of his cum flow from her open pussy to run down her leg. His needs spent, his mind began to work again, and he instantly regretted his actions. He had suffered in silence the loss of his wife's sexual desire, but this was not the way he should have slacked that need! Before he could think any more such thoughts the chanting changed once again. It slowed and became louder, more focused in nature. He looked to the central circle and saw the Priestess stretch her hand out once more. The shimmering light dripped again and the fog of coloured smoke quickly dissipated, and with it the rush of sexual need. Ian realized that he could not have fought against the power of the smokes effect - or so he rationalized... The members of the congregation fell to their knees and began chanting His name. The words were strange to him, but he somehow understood their meaning. They were calling him forth into this world from His. Ian found himself falling to his knees, and following the chants of the others in the cave. His senses still eerily heightened, Ian felt an odd sensation against his skin as when the door to an air conditioned room is opened and the pressure shifts. Ian's gaze shifted to the darkness at the far end of the cave. Something was there. Something he could not initially make out. Shadow on shadow, darkness on darkness. But he knew instinctively that the darkness held life. He was looking into the shadows when it happened. Two round orange spots opened far into the shadows. They sat there high up, for a brief moment, then floated to the ground. In swift back and forth movements, the spots began to move into the White circle. The forward movement was extremely rapid. Something completely alien, highlighted by the bright blue fire light, moved into the circle. The thing scuttled along the ground much like an oversized lizard would, back foot moving to meet the front foot on each respective side forcing the body to contract on that side and expand on the opposite side. The front foot of the expanding side shot forward to dig into the ground well ahead of the frightening head with its two large orange spots for eyes. The thing came to a stop not far from the fire. It rose up impossibly high on its hind legs. It must have towered more than seven feet into the air. The thing sat back on its haunches, folding inwards on itself in a manner that was impossible for human physique to imitate. Even sitting, it towered over the Priestess. The things long thin body was dark red in colour. Except for a band of fur around its hips, it was naked. The musculature was unlike anything Ian had ever seen, certainly not human in nature. The muscles were long and sinuous and seemed to fix to points unnatural for a human. It did not have the traditional human six pack abs, but rather bands of musculature forming a criss-cross or X pattern over its stomach. It reminded him of a rattan weave on a chair turned 45 degrees. Ian looked upward toward the frightening head. The head was round and perched on an impossibly thin neck. Ian could not make out a nose or ears. The colour of the head was a much darker intensity of red than the body, shading almost to black. The mouth had no lips, and the conical spiked teeth seemed to be fitted right into the jaws. As the mouth closed it fit together so perfectly that Ian could not make out the line of it until it opened again. When it did open, a long rope-like tongue flitted out much like that of a snake, though it lacked the forked end. The eyes closed vertically as opposed to human eyes which close horizontally. Ian could not make out any pupils in the perfectly round orange spheres yet he knew when it was looking at him. The Priestess raised her hand, palm outward, fingers spread and opened toward the thing. It raised its own hand and spread its fingers in turn. Where the human hand had a wide flat palm with four fingers at the end and a thumb near the bottom, this creature had six fingers, three to each side, which opened in a sunburst pattern from an impossibly small palm. As the fingers flexed, Ian could see that the thing had opposable fingers. Where on a human, only the thumb could touch each of the other fingers, it was possible for this creature to touch each of its six fingers to the others. The fingers seemed to have an additional joint compared to human fingers. At the tips of each finger was a cone shaped, black coloured talon almost two inches in length. Ian had no doubt that it was not of this world. The Priestess held her hand over the flames. The blue shimmer dripped and once again smoke billowed from the four fire pits. As before, the smoke hugged the ground, but this time the smoke moved inwards towards the central fire pit. The Priestess began to dance. The congregation began to chant and make its strange music keeping in time with the Priestess' movements. Ian recognized that this song too was a song of lust, but much different than the version he had danced to. That was a song of human lust, this...something completely different. Ian was mesmerized by Priestess' movements. The stunning beauty of her naked form twisted, stretched, pranced, and shook in time with the chanting. Her dancing was an intoxicatingly sexual display that aroused the passion of any male, and probably many of the women, that watched her movements. Ian was not immune to the sight and felt himself rise as he watched. He wasn't alone. The creature's body began to sway in time to the music. The eyes were fixated on the Priestess as she moved back and forth before Him. Her dancing became more frantic, wilder as she danced toward the Beast. The Beast began to mimic her movements, making incredibly fluid gestures of hands, arms, and body. The movements were side to side. The sinuousness of the movements reminded Ian of the slithering of a snake, though the legs remained fixed in place underneath it. The Beast's movements could not have been duplicated by a human. The Beast's hands moved in counterpoint to its head, which moved in counterpoint to the body, keeping its head on the same level throughout the dance. Ian noted that its hips did not move back to front much, unlike human hips which moved gracefully back and forth. He wondered how it had sex... As the pair danced, the Beast stood and moved ponderously into the flames. As with the Priestess, the flames shot upwards the full length of its body, to caress and touch it all over. When it moved from the fire, it too was coated with the shimmering blue light. Once more the pair began to dance around each other, the Priestess doing most of the step movements, the Beast swaying in place turning slowly, ponderously. As the Priestess occasionally moved towards the Beast, its long sinuous tongue would slip over the upper half of her body. It would curl to the curve of her breasts, each in turn. At one point, it looked as if the tongue was pulling on her nipples. After several of these tongue caresses, the head moved downwards allowing the tongue to slip between her legs. Ian heard the Priestess gasp and knew when the Beasts tongue had found her sex. Ian saw movement at the things waist. He watched stunned, yet fascinated, as something long and white slid through the furs. If it was the things cock, it was impossibly long, impossibly thick, and impossibly mobile. It moved downwards almost touching the ground, then doubled itself in the center into an 'S' shaped curve. With straight parts above and below the 'S', it seemed to look like a dollar sign with only one line. The tip twisted and moved irregularly, as if searching for something, as it rose up into a plane parallel with the ground. The Priestess moved forward and reached toward the Beast. With the Beast sitting, its hips were roughly equal in height to hers. She reached out and grabbed the Beasts cock and pulled it just lower than her breasts. As Ian watched in fascination the Beasts 'S' shaped coil pulsed, straightening out, sending the head of its cock up through her breasts almost to her neck. Ian realized the coil was taking the place of the human back and forth hip movement. As the coil reformed, the head of the cock slipped back to below her breasts. The Beast reached forward and grabbed the Priestess under her arms. He lifted her straight up into the air. She opened her legs and wrapped them around its torso. Still holding onto the Beasts cock, she brought it to her sex. They let gravity take over as both the Beast and the Priestess let out a howl of lust. The two of them began to move together, the Priestess moving her hips up and down, the Beast moving its 'S' coil in and out forcing a grotesque act of sex. The Beast turned to its left and took three very shuddering steps towards the altar. Ian realized that while the Beast was very fast and sinuously mobile on all fours, when raised up on its rear legs it was incredibly awkward. The Beast placed the Priestess on her back on the altar. Ian could now clearly see the thing's cock as it moved in and out of the Priestess. While the Beast's cock was impossibly massive, only about five inches or so were moving in and out of the Priestess' body. Slicked with the Priestess' juices, it glistened evilly white in the light of the torches and fires. Ian could hear the slurping sounds of the massive cock moving in and out but there was no accompanying slapping sounds associated with human copulation, sounds normally associated with the contact of flesh against flesh. Other sounds were eerily familiar... The Beast's growls oddly matched and created a syncopated counterpoint to the Priestess' groans and moans. While slightly odd, they were not far off the norm for human voices. The squelching sounds of its cock moving in and out of her pussy was in perfect mimicry of that of human sex. The one thing they did not do was kiss. The beast twined its hands around the Priestess' arms. Six fingers divided around her arms. Three of its fingers went in each direction and linked with the other three fingers coming around from the other side. Ian did not doubt that this hold would be virtually impossible to break. With hands locked around the woman's arms, keeping her rigidly in place, the beast sexual drive began to increase dramatically. The Priestess began to cry out though Ian was uncertain if it was from pain or arousal. The things 'S' shaped coil was snapping back and forth at a furious rate of speed, much faster than a human could. The beast's growls began to get louder and deeper. Suddenly, it rotated its head back and howled at the moon shining brightly overhead. The coil of its cock straightened as much as was possible and it began to tremble along its length. Its body going rigid. As Ian watched, fascinated, the massive shaft jerked violently several times. The Priestess cried out and began to shake dramatically. Ian was sure she was having a huge orgasm impaled on the massive fleshy spike of the beast. Before Ian knew it, their mutual orgasm ended. The Beast's head rotated forward and looked down on the Priestess. It released its hold on her arms leaving groves that would probably bruise. The long thick cock retreated quickly from inside her body and coiled itself back beneath the fur at its waist, leaving a sickly green scum trailing behind. The Beast's semen Ian realized. He looked to the Priestess. Her body took much longer to slow down from her exertions than did the Beast. She was still breathing heavily, her breasts riding up and down on her chest to each successive gasp. Her legs were spread, her sex open and on display as the sickly looking green scum ran from inside her. Though he was in open shock from what he had just witnessed, he was also very highly aroused. His own cock was rigid and ready, still wet from his recent invasion of his Acolytes sex. He could see the Acolyte watching him, from the corner of her eyes, her obvious state of arousal starting to get the better of both of them. As before, he could sense her need, smell her arousal, and feel the flutter of the air currents when she moved. Her breathing too was laboured. Matching his own. Her breasts, previously hidden from him during their last act of sex, were on open display when she turned slightly towards him. Her nipples were hard and thick. Ian wanted to wrap his mouth around them and suckle them for hours. Sweat was covering her body, indeed his own. The sheen covering her reflected the moonlight and flickering torch and fire light on all her womanly contours. Shining in almost pornographic splendour, she reminded him of a black and white nude drawing. A very good black and white drawing. Ian was distracted to say the least. He both wanted and dreaded any invitation from her. Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments and then fell away. Movement caught his eyes and other senses. The young man and his Acolyte were moving towards the Locilus. The man and woman reached out to touch the top of the Locilus together and the lid slip open. He reached in and pulled on the hand of a woman. Ian was surprised. The woman who sat up in the box was not his wife. Last in, he had expected Heather to be the first to come out. The young man helped his young wife out of the box and kissed her, pulling her hard into him. The woman responded as if she had been starved of sex. The kiss was passionate, almost feral, their hunger contagious as they fed off each other. Hands moved freely over each other as their mouths clenched tightly together. Their bodies slapped together, naked desire and naked flesh in open display. She reached down and took his erection into her hand. She slid back onto the top of the Locilus and pulled him toward and into her body. He went willingly. The sex that followed was heated and intense. Ian watched fascinated as their passion built. Now the full range of sound he expected from a sexual liaison could be heard. All the right sounds of human bodies moving in union. The sounds of pleasure escaping their lips. They moved to the song of human lust, pushing hard against each other in time to the chanting and music sung by the congregation. He could see the sheen of sweat building on their bodies. Could see the shimmering of heat around them. Could almost feel that heat even from where he was standing. Their union was fast, furious, and almost brutal in nature. When they climaxed together, Ian almost peaked with them. The couple held each other tightly in post coitus bliss. They kissed almost tenderly as they slowly came down from their high. After a brief time, he lifted her from the box and slowly walked them back to their circle. As they came to enter it, their Acolyte stopped them and separated them. She directed him back to his circle but took her into the inner white circle. The woman looked back once from within the woman's circle, a tender smile on her lips for her partner. Then she turned to face the odd pair in the centre of the circle.