The Blood Moon Ceremony
253 Words
The air was thick with the scent of burning sage and iron. Lorien’s wrists ached where the ritual chains bound her to the stone altar, cold metal biting into her skin. The Elders stood in a circle around her, their voices weaving a haunting chant that echoed through the darkened clearing. Above them, the Blood Moon loomed—a swollen, crimson eye watching from the heavens, its eerie glow painting everything in shades of red.
She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, forcing herself to remain still. Fear was useless now. Her fate had been sealed long before this night. The Hollow King demanded blood. And as the firstborn of her lineage, it was her duty to give it.
Somewhere in the crowd, Ronan watched. She didn’t have to see him to know—his presence was a tether, a steady weight pressing against the fraying edges of her courage. He had sworn to protect her, yet here he was, powerless as she knelt before the abyss.
A robed figure stepped forward. Elder Varik. His voice was like the rasp of dead leaves.
"On this night, the Hollow King stirs. Through blood, we seal the Pact. Through sacrifice, we live."
The ceremonial dagger gleamed as he raised it high. The moment had come.
Lorien clenched her fists, her heart pounding against her ribs. But as the blade descended, something went wrong. The air split with a deafening c***k—like the very sky had been torn open.
And then the screaming began.
- Writer
