The mother of the Eldritch terrors wants to retireve them from the Spellmans clutches.
This is for @liliyhsblog who asked me for a part 2. I hope its as satisfying as part 1.
Warnings: Bloodshed, battles, tentacles, genocide, decapitation, murder, end of the world
âHow stupid of you, to bring your only bargaining chip to the battlefield. One thing you seemed to have forgotten about Pandoraâs box, is that it released all the plagues on the Earth.â Saying this, she opened the box, letting her children out once again, to destroy the Earth and consume it.
Watching the chaos unfold, the mother smiled with glee.
First from the box emerged darkness, her eldest daughter stood in all her shadowy glory. Her form was smokey, as if her powers could not decide on a final form. With hollowed out eyes and tiny obsidians embedded in her forehead, the eldest eldritch terror stood proud and tall. Glancing at her mother, she smiled till cracks appeared in her face. She turned towards the witches, quickly losing her smile.
Next came her son, the uninvited. He emerged from the box, disheveled with his untidy clothes and tangled hair. The mother tsked before waving her hand, immediately her sonâs hair was returned to its former midnight glory, his hair was neatly braided like the Vikings of old. His sickle was sharpened and gleamed in the light while his clothes changed from tattered rags to armor, black leather armor that seemed easily penetrable yet worked as an impenetrable shield.
Glancing down at himself he smiled widely, giddy at his new attire. He smiled up at his mother, like he used to when he was still young. He nodded his head in gratitude and moved to embrace her but she stopped him. Reunions could wait for they were still in serious danger from the coven before them.
After him came her third son, the weird. They slithered out of the box, an octopus-like mass crawled to the mother then climbed up her body, perching itself on her shoulder.
Grinning widely at the Weirdâs presence she gently ran her fingers over their head, restoring them to their original form. Feeling the familiar power running through their body the weird morphed into their original form which they had lost millennia ago. On first glance they looked deceptively human, an androgynous human yet on closer glance one would notice their hands shifted from tentacles to fingers and back. On their tongue were suckers, meant to pull in their victims.
Cracking their neck unnaturally the weird glared fiercely at the coven before putting on a menacingly charming smile. His pearly teeth and insidious expression made the Spellmansâ almost wretch.
After the weird, the imp of the perverse emerged. Cradling her childâs golden statue, the mother was enraged. What had the mortals done to her child? How could they turn him into a mere trinket to use as they wished? Sighing in anger she whispered, âAwaken,â the moment the word left her lips the imp started moving, as if it were waking up after a long slumber. Ruby eyes stared at the mother before a sharp grin formed on the little creatureâs face. Slowly the imp unveiled its tiny wings and perched itself on the motherâs shoulder, caressing the large golden globe in its hands with its tongue, tempted to pervert reality in accordance with its will.
Next came the cosmic. The being was an intimate part of the cosmos, the unattainable and uncontainable force took a mortal visage. The cosmos was a pale, lean man dressed in a hanfu woven from the very fabric of the universe itself with spinning galaxies and nebulas almost alive on the fabric. His long black tresses trailed down his back. He was the picture of tranquility yet within his mind, chaos reigned.
The returned took the form of a corpse, mostly well-preserved but rotting in a few places. She was deathly beautiful yet she moved unnaturally, as if she was a mere puppet for a puppeteer. She was dressed like a bride, lace covered her arms and a veil covered her hair yet her dress was stained with blood and dirt, as if she recently crawled out of a grave.
The twin of the void emerged next. He was a tall man in a black suit and a hat. Mysterious and strange the man looked like a regular human with his black gloves yet he was anything but. He was created to be the yang to her yin. He was supposed to satiate her hunger, the one in charge of caring for her yet after millennia away from her he was remiss in his duties, leading to her growing impoverished. He was and is, the endless.
Lastly the void emerged. The void took the form of a gaunt little girl in a white dress with frayed hair, a far cry from the terrifying terror she used to be. Hunched over, she gripped her stomach as her hollow eyes stared at the Spellman coven. Licking her lips with her black tongue she stared at her potential meal, prepared to temporarily satiate her hunger with the young coven when her mother stopped her.
The mother looked at her children, disappointed in their current state. She tsked before giving them a little of her power to sustain themselves. Her once powerful creations were reduced to their impoverished states by the measly coven before them. Yet she knew not even their patron goddess Hecate would be able to defend the coven if she chose to intervene.
The coven, however were unwilling to submit to the intimidating terrors and had instead called upon their allies. Heaven, Hell and everything in between. Demons, ghouls and other creatures of all kinds accompanied the Spellmans in a quest for the survival of their universe. Seeing the eldritch terrors out of Panadoraâs box Hilda stepped forward saying, âWell, now that you have your âchildrenâ back why donât you leave us alone?â
Chuckling darkly she answered, âBecause I want to see your bodies scattered on this field in pieces, I want to feel your metallic blood flowing down my throat as I claim the debt owed to me.â
As soon as the words fell from her lips the battle commenced. The witches fought well, reciting spells and moving elegantly against the attacks of the terrors yet it was not enough. Many witches fell, many were ripped apart and others ran in an tempt to save themselves yet it was all for naught.
The once green grass was a sticky amber, decorated with various body parts. The last of the Spellmans, Hilda and Zelda stood at the center of the field, looking at their surroundings with anguish, their coven was obliterated, the angels and demons torn to shreds. The head of their beloved niece was in the hands of the mother as she grinned maniacally at the pair.
âSo much hassle for a little half-born, and yet, she died so easily. Iâm disappointed,â she said with mock disappointment before tossing the blonde head at the pair.
Hilda shuddered as she fell to her knees, her grief consuming her as Zelda stood her ground, willing her tears away.
âNow, for a special punishment for you, you shall see your world get destroyed before you, too are consumed,â saying this, the pair were frozen in their places as the mother motioned for her children to finish what they had started.
First came the darkness and her everlasting cold, no one could escape their sins, their guilt, her torment.
Second came the uninvited, he ripped through the populace, feasting on their unwelcoming hearts as his powers grew.
Third came the weird, succumbing the Earth in water, crushing humanityâs cities and submerging them with the creatures of the depths that laid in wait for centuries.
Fourth came the Imp, he corrupted reality, twisting the very foundations of nature akin to a child playing with playdough. His creations were maddening, confusing, chaotic, refusing to settle. The very foundations of reality were cracking, crumbling as he continued.
Fifth came the Cosmic, he brought together the three realms, Heaven, Hell and Earth, they crashed in a symphony of pained screams that echoed through the vastness till everything went silent.
Sixth came the Returned, the dead arose to bear witness to the end, the deceased tormented those who remained, those who fought, those who had hope.
Seventh came the Endless, he brought with him an endless cycle of torment for the mortals, a cycle of eternity only breakable by one. He imbued his powers into the chaotic Earth, creating an unending paradox.
Eight came the Void, the last, the end of all things, she consumed the chaotic, fractured reality with much glee. Finally, she was satiated for the first time in millennia.
In the seven days it took the Christian God to create the world, it took eight days to destroy his creations, the very foundations of his fragile reality were shattered by the Eldritch terrors, it was almost poetic.
After her thirst for revenge was satiated, the Mother took her children with her, into a different dimension in order to grow their own powers once more so that theyâd never be as weak as they were, ever again.
Under their mother, the terrors flourished, their powers of destruction grew equal to the Elementâs powers of creation. The Universe was now more balanced than it had been in centuries.
