Post by Dantalion on Dec 20, 2016 11:21:15 GMT
Power Level: 7, 286
A wail, it had been carrying along the heights of Yunzabit for days by now. The inhabitants trembled in fear as the unearthly tone was carried along the back of the winds. The title for it was the Wail, a rumour that had long since passed through Yunzabit. It was said the wail was first heard when the first drop of snow touched the highest peak of the mountains. Though in truth it was nothing, a fairytale told in a bar one night by a drunken buffoon, tale nothing more than a yarn to keep the prying eyes amused as they drank themselves silly. But the seeds were planted and ever since that fateful night the tale of the Banshee had rung strong in the ears of all the successive generations since.
But there is a reason why the wail had been heard again, the panic rushing through the scattered townsfolk in fear of their soul being taken away, snapped into nothingness, all to be left behind a coffin with no soul to entrap inside.
From a lone cabin, the winds blew nearest, its screaming cries a constant bombardment against the wooden walls as it hissed against the defiant timber. Inside walked a Demon, his body crouched and bent as it walked through, an empty gleam in its eye sockets as it looked with vacant stares. It looked around, watching for movement of its ‘family’ though the only sign of life was the spitting embers that danced longingly in the fire pit, slowly its vitality dissipated as time passed by, not fuel to feed its longing Dance as Dantalion sat in front of it. He looked to his right and left, laid prone with twisted features sat his ‘mother’ and ‘father’. The cold had long since enveloped them, though slight discoloration had swept across their face, a layer of froth foamed at their mouths as their eyes violently shaken back and forth.
Then came the most depressing sight, his ‘puppy’ sat there, its body laid prone, the same layer of froth foamed at the mouth as Dantalion stroked its head, a soft cry echoing throughout the cabin as he pressed beneath into his eye sockets snow. Slowly his head started to shake, a yellow tinge forming around his eye sockets as the slow methodical shake turned violent, a hiss of steam erupting from his eyes as heated water dripped down the carapace of the skull, landing with soft pats against Seymour's skin. With a fizzle the drops rolled down his pets cheeks, Dantalion raising up as he became his somber crawl through the cabin, the squeaking of wood pressed down against his cloven hooves as he made his way to his ‘room’ placing with a gentle drop his pet ‘dog’ onto the bed with one final brush through the hair before leaving a depression in the skull, his teeth pressing against Seymour's skin before moving back to the living room.
He made his way through, tossing into the fireplace a few more logs letting the embers dance at their new found food. Dantalion sat on the couch, the heavy moan of cushions pressing down as he looked to his ‘parents’ his skull twisting and morphing into a mournful state, as he pressed the two corpses against his chest, the last few drops of tears rolling down his face as he took them back to their bedrooms, illuminated by a single dying candle. With a pat on the head, the parents were laid to sleep, a single black smoke plumed from Dantalion’s face, encasing the light in darkness before dissipating into nothing more than an unlit wick.
With the daily Ritual completed, Dantalion let loose a sigh of relief, “Damn… Acting like a son is harder than I thought…” Dantalion groaned, closing the door behind him as he made his way back to the harsh snowstorm that had so long enveloped the Yunzabit Heights. “Well… I guess that leaves one last job.” he continued, making his way out into the blizzard that would soon carry his voice. First, came the howl, the hungered wolves gathering around the house as they began to snap and tear at the dead carcases that had so long scattered about the house. Then came Dantalion, the wolves scurrying away as Dantalion’s mouth began to hang ajar, his head twisting back and forth as he began to channel Ki, his voice echoing a boom as he began to mimic the call of the haunted, his voice twisting and morphing to a guttural low groan, then slowly contorting to a loud echo of a scream, its voice carried long across the dancing winds before sitting himself down. His red vision scanning across the Horizon as he let loose another cry, this one more humane than before though with the humanity infesting his voice done nothing to settle the people of Yunzabit.