Two Broâs Sitting in a Blood Bath
velasdiscourseâAnd, done!âÂ
Matthias OâDwyre has never been drunk before. Heâs never drank before. Heâs never gotten to hold a bottle of anything with a higher alcohol content that gosh darn orange juice before.Â
So, it only stood to reason that the first time he got a hold of that sweet, sweet church wine, he decided to summon satan.Â
He didnât even know how he got to the website he did, a cringy 2000âČs HTML format with a spinning clipart skull and all red text on a black background, but, it happened, he collected all the random bits and bobs, dragged that weird guy from the back alley on eighth into the center circle, and rip, the artery was out, blood splattered like paint across his cheek.
So there he was now. Surrounded by candles, sitting on the outside of a summoning circle drawn with ketchup and candles made of old crayons, throwing potato chips at the gutted corpse because the back said they had kosher salt in them, before, finally, slicing his finger on the bag and dripping it into the candle.Â
Then, the room went black. Tense music he couldnât quite find the source of filled the air, as the candles burned from white to red to black, smoke plooming in the dampened room, static buzzing up his skin and burning at his fingertips. His breath was gone, sucked out into the swirling vortex above the hollowed man.Â
Then, as the figure arrived, looming over his fragile mortal form, words flowed from his lips ancient as the spell he cast.
âEy, sexy satan.â Whop, whop, whop whop. âGangnam Satan style.â Dabs.
Perfect. He shall establish his future dominance in hell. Rising to his feet, he T-Posed the other. âYeah, frick you Satan, Iâm the fricking boss here! Iâm the bad boi, fight me!â