An Alter fit for the Presence of Darkness

Everything was ready for the ritual I presumed as the moonlit windows of the church shined like stars. Each colored pane reflecting a different hue onto the faces around me. A cold Autumn breeze blew in from the open shafts along the ceiling caused an aching shiver to creep into my spine. The walls made of ancient stone resembled a castle fallen in a century unknown to humankind. The wooden booths laying in a pattern along the church were tattered and beaten. Some laid rotten and some were missing, the smell of fungus and old pine filled the air. The marble-like floor and pillars supporting the grand structure glowed like white snow in the light. I stand at the center of the church, the podium standing in front of me, alone and in silence. The Autumn leaves could be seen blowing and soaring in the sky like birds in a flock spooked by a stranger. Around me stood 12 robed figures, people I had never seen before. Emerging from the shadows a tall man came out from behind a pillar on the left, robed and dressed in white loomed over us. He stood at the podium, the altar, the seat fit for only a God. The clockwork began. All the robed people began to shuffle about the room, swarming and twirling. Like a dance of death, a ball for the condemned, a waltz for the forsaken. Taken from my home on the night of spoiled children feasting on sweets, ripped off my clothing, and forced into white fleece. My legs trembled as the night went on. Each one of the cult members pranced and danced away as if their life depended on it. Fear filled me but also doubt. I had spoken out before about what the hell was going on. Swiftly I was struck across the face by a hand of a tall man, his face was hidden but his long beard was clearly visible. The leaves outside of the monument blew even harder and violently. Wind picking up in sound and speed, roaring and creating a bellowing whistle as it flew throughout the empty spaces. The dance continued on, motivated by nothing but sinister malice and illusion. The tall man who had previously stood so ferociously and valet on the podium had walked his way to me. His stride was strong and motivated, determined and prideful. Two men emerged from the dance and stood to my side in a smooth transition almost unseeable. The cloaked man turned around walking back to the podium as the 2 other cloaked figures pushed and nudged me on. The stone-cold floor hit my bare feet, each step causing my skin to form goosebumps and flesh to shiver. They grabbed my arms and a third figure emerging from the ballroom dance of misery gagged me with a cloth rope. I could no longer scream let alone cry out for help. The White cloaked figure raised his hand and lowered it slowly causing the cloaked figures still dancing to begin to slow down and come gently to a halt. The winds and leaves outside however did not bow down to these commands. Like a raging war, the outside world seemed to be engaged in an endless onslaught of war and peace. A symphony built for the morbid. They pushed me and pulled me to the altar set before me. I struggled and pulled against their forces but did not prevail. My arms and feet were tied and chained up like a pig only bought to die. A noose fell from the pitch black ceiling, dangling right above the altar. At this sight I flung my limbs even harder trying to escape the grasp of my captors, to no avail they tightened their grip, and more men came to their aid in suppressing me. I wailed and moaned through the fabric begging for release. No one heard my words, no one heard my screams. They pushed me to the ground causing me to fall to my knees. My body centered on the altar. I sat in a strange place, surrounded by men I knew nothing about, a place where my final words would never be relayed. Tears formed under my eyes as I knew this was my fate. There was no escaping this macabre night. The moon raised high in the sky, lining up with a circle-shaped pane of glass above the colorful archaic panorama of timeless centuries. The wind howled and screamed like a creature of the night, a demonic shriek erupting from the bowels of a bedtime story to keep children scared. The true monster lay in front of my eyes, humans. The man approached me slowly, his white robe glistening with the moonlight behind him. It shined like milky silk, a snow-white that overpowered snowfall itself. The somber sound of wood creaking and tree branches hitting against stone walls ripping at old vines lacing on the walls. The man reached up and grabbed the noose. He laced it around my neck and raised his hand. The rope began to slowly tighten around my neck, lifting me up with it. Instantly and instinctively I ripped at the rope, tearing at my skin. My fingernails embedded into my neck trying to get under the rope. I was lifted higher and higher causing the rope to tighten harder and harder but only to the point where I was gasping for breath. I coughed and coughed as I scrambled to find a way out of my entanglement. The figures moved away from me in a synchronized fashion. All at once, the unseen candles that laid around the monument lit up at once burning passionately and furiously. The people began to chant words foreign to my ears, like sounds unearthly and inhuman. Just intangible screams. The rope had stopped now, leaving me on the tips of my toes struggling to stay alive. My arms still held onto the rope around my throat as my neck stung from the vicious attack I had inflicted upon myself. The fire began to twirl and flicker, rising higher and higher, burning more and more like there was an endless amount of fuel for them to feast on. I faced away from the moonlight as shadows were blown across the buildings inside as leaves in the thousands flew in the sky outside. Wind rattled the building and dust began to fall from the cracks already formed in the ceiling. And as fast as it all happened it all stopped, the world fell silent, the screams of the wind stopped, the chanting of the robed animals ceased, the creaking of the doors and shaking of the building quit. My own gasping breath was silent to my ears like I had gone deaf. The world turned into a place of tranquil screams and agony undetectable to me. My eyes were wide and filled with fear of death. All at once, like a star collapsing in on itself, like a tear in the fabric of time and space, a singulaiorty in the concept of the universe, the raging and wrathful sound all rushed in, the doors swung wide open as the moonlight turned from a white glow to a green goulish color like that of a rotting corpse. Shadows and appendages bellowed in from the doors enveloping everything, it grabbed at the robed figures tearing them apart piece by piece. The sound of skin ripping and bones cracking magnified in my ears. They let out agonizing screams of pain that caused my stomach to churn and curl. The smell of blood filled the air as one robed figure's organs spilled out on the floor of the church, his intestines popped and eviscerated spilling the contents of whatever he had eaten everywhere. His head squeezed by the catastrophic darkness causing his eyes to pop from his head and brain matter to leak from his mouth. The bodies of the dead played with and toyed for what looked like amusement. The only one left, me and the white-robed man. He fell to the floor trembling and shaking a few feet out of my vision on my left. The gargling of blood in the throats of those still conscious echoed through the curved walls filling my ears. A pitch-black arm contorted in ways that left me disgusted to be alive reached out to the man in white and flattened him causing his blood to splatter onto my face. I flinched and tears fell from my eyes as I wanted to puke. I clenched my eyes shut as all the candles dissipated into smoke and the green light began to dwindle. I accepted my fate but there was nothing, silence, dread, an unnerving pain of waiting that screamed in the back of my mind. A small drip formed in the echoing chamber of noiseless chaos, and I fell to the ground from my enslavement. I opened my eyes when I hit the ground and scrambled to remove the rope from my throat. It was only when it was half off when I realized the monument I sat in was empty. The white marble floors and walls were no longer white but the color of a crimson red, the smell of iron and rust defiled the air. Blood from the man flattened next to me, drained, and ran like a river, the drips of blood on the few steps leading to the altar increased as more of the viscous liquid flowed, not only from the white-robed man but the countless other bodies who were strewn across the room. Untying the gag around my mouth I turned away and vomited on the floor spilling terror and dread with it. My hands held me up as my knees pressed against the hard floor. The wind and sound of blood were the only things keeping me from total silence. I sat there on my knees, alone. Scared. Dreadfully waiting for the ounce to keep on living, but nothing. There was no emotion left, there was no fear, I had puked that up. There was nothing. The white light shined on me and cast a shadow against the walls of the church. My head loomed, staring at the floor as a single tear fell from my eye. This place, this dark, disease-infested, repulsive place was only built for the presence of darkness, and now only the sound of my weeping filled the rose chambers.