#risodoppiweek2019

With a delighted sigh, he turns and walks out of his room heading to the bathroom to take his ritual bath. He doesn’t bother throwing on a robe. His roommate has seen him make the naked trek like this every day for about month now.

“Morning Diavolo!” Doppio cheerily yells into the living room. 

“It’s 5:00pm. I’d hardly call that morning,” Diavolo calls back without looking up from his notes as he cross references a few ancient books.

Doppio runs a bath for himself, checking the water to make sure it’s just warm enough. He allows the tub to fill while he takes a bit of cheese cloth and places various herbs in it. He ties it at the top, creating a satchel and tosses it into the bath. He also adds a generous pinch of Himalayan sea salt directly to the water. 

He turns his attention to his reflection. He absentmindedly looks at his freckled form as he brushes his teeth. Looking at his reflection, he runs his hands over his body wondering what he’ll feel like. Doppio loses himself in thought, but then remembers the water’s running. 

“Shit!” He whispers as he turns around to turn off the faucet. 

Doppio lowers himself into the warm water. He bats at the floating satchel of herbs and squeezes it forcing out every drop of herbal essence. Every bit counts. He needs it all. Doppio reclines, letting the water reach his mouth and his knees bend, touching the cool bathroom air. 

Enjoying the warmth of the water and the smell of the herbs, he closes his eyes and remembers his dream. The same dream he’s had for a month now. Each night more details are revealed to him. At first it was a question, Join me? He woke that night in terror of a dark shadow looming over him. He only remembered the eyes black with crimson at their center and tendrils. So many tendrils. Each night more and more was revealed. Upon waking each morning, he had to force the memory from his mind’s eyes. What surrounded this being was chaos and despair. After a time, Doppio grew to love the screams of terror he’d hear in his dreams. Those cries of desperation are glorious. He could get off on it, but the voice in the dreams specifically told not to. 

As he lays in the warm tub, he can’t help but let his hand gravitate to his hardening cock. He takes hold of himself and wonders how much it would really matter? Would his new master really know? It was too much to risk, but the defiant thought tempts him. 

“Doppio! Hurry up!” His friend knocks at the door, making Doppio shriek and nearly take in a mouthful of water in his surprise. 

“Alright, Diavolo! Be out in a minute!” He hurriedly cleans himself as he remembers what it was like in the beginning. To think he actually ran to Diavolo the first night he had the dream. They nearly ran into each other in the hall both awakening from what they had called a nightmare. These days he looks forward to the dreams. Hearing the voice call his name and feeling those eyes upon him. He enjoys the company of his master as he slumbers- as they both slumber. The thought excites him and he bites his lip.  

…

Diavolo and Doppio arrive at the beach they had scouted to make sure it was remote and far from civilization. The two worked in synchronized silence setting up the altar that neither of them had spoken about but both of them had seen in their dreams. 

As Diavolo lights the last few candles on the altar, Doppio walks a few feet away and starts drawing in the sand. He makes a large circle, about three feet in diameter. Along the outside, he scrawls glyphs that he had been seeing in his mind’s eye, since he woke up. Having finished his own task, Diavolo watches. Being the one who spent years studying the R'lyehian language, he recognizes a few of the symbols, ”protect” and ”tribute.” The rest are a mystery to him. Doppio inscribes one more ”devotion” then stands and turns to smile excitedly at Diavolo. A blush covers his freckled face. He’s filled with glee, as if it were Christmas morning. 

“Ready!” Doppio speaks joyfully, breaking the silence between them. With a giggle, he hops into the circle and he removes his cloak. Being fully naked underneath, Diavolo can see how truly excited Doppio is, but he quickly turns his attention to his tome. He flips to the marked page in the well worn book.

“C’ai Risothulhu c-uln! Goka c-gotha! Nog n shugg! C-sll’ha nnn hai! Uaah!” Diavolo reads from the tome, projecting his voice towards the ocean. 

The words Diavolo recites were once foreign and archaic to Doppio, but now they reach his ears as a beautiful melody. At the sound, he’s filled with a joyful familiarity. Pride swells in his chest and butterflies flutter in his stomach as if being reunited with a lover.

Diavolo breaks out into a cold sweat as he finishes his incantation. He looks to the ocean, straining his eyes in the last bit of daylight before the sun fully sets. Diavolo exhales with a frustrated sigh, looking over the spell and the list of components. Everything is in order. It should have worked! Discouraged, he looks over to Doppio. 

Doppio is looking out to the ocean, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. 

“I guess it didn’t…” As Diavolo tries to break the bad news, he’s cut off. 

“He’s here.” Doppio says confidently as the ocean breeze picks up. The candles of the altar are blown to the ground. Diavolo shrieks, picking up the ancient tome to remove it from danger. The lit candles fall to Doppio’s feet. The small flames dance around the circle and illuminate the sigils. Doppio giggles from within the ring of fire, feeling the wind caress his bare flesh. When he stops giggling, he puts his hands out in front of him and they meet an unseen barrier forming a circle around him. He grins maniacally as his gaze to the ocean resumes. 

Diavolo follows the brown eyes to find the water swirling and waves swelling, their ebb and flow are erratic. The unrelenting winds usher in storm clouds, devouring any remaining light. The only remaining light source is Doppio’s circle, providing them enough light to make out a figure rising from the water before them. 

Each passing second, it gains height, slowly revealing how massive and incredible it is. 

Each passing second, Diavolo’s mind screams, Flee while you still can! He’s filled with terror and his legs refused to follow his command. 

Each passing second, a warmth coils tighter at Doppio’s core. He’s grinning wide. If the arcane restraints of the circle weren’t holding him in place, he’d have run to meet his master- his desire. Doppio giggles maniacally as he remembers the visions of his dreams: people running with faces contorted in terror, the delectable sound of their screams, the mouth watering smell of the city burning, and civilization crumbling beneath him. 

From the depths of the waters, shrouded in shadows the thing moves towards them. Diavolo can start to make out a form: head, shoulders, torso, and tentacles. There’s more tentacles than he can count. He sees the sickly green-grey form with black eyes like a void with glowing red ember at their center. Where a mouth should be, its face is covered in smaller tentacles writhing and coiling upon themselves. Diavolo releases the breath he had been holding in a shriek as two large leathery wings extend at the thing’s back then fold neatly behind it. At that, Diavolo crumbles. He falls back screaming. He clings to his last shred of sanity as he crawls away then struggles to get to his feet. He runs stumbling to the car, leaving his friend behind. 

“Bye Diavolo! Thanks!” Doppio calls out. He gives a half hearted wave over his shoulder to his absent friend. His eyes are transfixed on the gorgeous man before him. Towering over him now is this ancient God with short white hair, tanned skin, muscular body and eyes like a black void with the red ember center. Those eyes are the ones he’s been dreaming about. They’re just as he remembered them. 

The familiarity in the tone instantly touches Doppio’s heart and he melts, as the voice from his dream speaks to him- finally in person.