Cerebus

When the barrier between worlds weakens, where the moon is gibbous and waning comes the opening of the Gates of Orcus. It is a date that should have been lost to mankind, but the memory endures in some twisted enough to remember. For these individuals, they flock to their twisted idols, seeking contact with their dark masters on this very night. Such is the unholy covenant established between these mortals and those who lurk from the recesses of the Outer Spheres. Power, damnation and everything else in-between beckon.

....

The sacrifices laid fresh and bloody before their blasphemous altar, they pray and chant. A formality, for action rather than petty exposition is rewarded, unlike weaker gods.

....

Fuelled with fresh blood and souls, the Gates of Orcus glow in satisfaction, emerging from its hellish maw the fruits of the cultists’ labour. Its gait is bipedal, like that of a man’s- and yet, its flesh is red and scaly, its muscled torso and canine jaws betraying its inhumanity. Towering over its mortal supplicants, it cackles gleefully, its three heads ravening with delight.

....

The cultists watch excitedly as their summoned entity grabs their peers one by one with its massive claws. In the face of the coming feast, they do not flinch, even as one head tears greedily into their flesh while the other two guzzle both blood and marrow with reckless abandon. After all, those consumed by it on this very night are fated to be a part of something far greater.

Reviews

[Sir Aphid]

An interesting dark entity. I pity those who would be subservient to such a perverse creature. An abomination such as it cannot be allowed to walk our mortal realm for long. It must be slain; for the sake of humanity.

[Coyote Poetry]

A short chapter with great meaning. You left the reader with visions of blood and guts. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter.
Coyote