A flag with a background consisting of a visual echo of a reversed cross and a foreground of a symbol resembling a simplified nameless ghoul mask.
The inner cross is a pinkish-purple, while it's echoed forms pulse out from light blue to dark blue to a muted red and then to dark green, which is also the color that fills the background.
The purple represents quintessence, the light blue represent air, the dark blue represents water, the red represents fire and the green represents Earth; all of which are elements of the nameless ghouls. The reversed cross shape reflects the overall aesthetic of the band.
The nameless ghoul's mask is black and representative of the Era V/Impera. A seven-pointed star, the symbol of otherkin and kinfolk as a whole, is also emblazoned on the center forehead area of the mask.
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｡ﾟ･ 𖤐 SYNOPSIS : you’ve been getting vivid night terrors from a demon you believe is stalking you. you meet father geto at the cathedral, confessing how immoral and horrifying these night terrors were it broke you. but it wasn’t until you discover the dark, twisted truth behind them all…
｡ﾟ･ 𖤐 WARNINGS : noncon → dubcon, sacrilege, blasphemy, rough demonic sex, stalking, breeding, impregnating, religious guilt, betrayal, impersonation, confessional booth sex, degradation, sadism. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH DARK CONTENT. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. ⚠︎
this is a subplot from my toji fanfic “God’s Whore” where a penitent at St. Reze Cathedral suffers from night terrors. the reader in this story is not the same reader from the og fanfic.
ㅤ HORRORLAND/KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
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In the vulnerable depths of your mind, there was this figure. A disturbing creature quietly lurking, waiting until all is calm when the darkness shrouds over the daylight skies. This darkness incarnate springs to life as a vicious, fang-bearing, gnarly, feral incubus. Born to linger on the fragile, innocent edges of your mental state and drawing you in with its sapphire eyes.
His robust figure was a silhouette on the wall; curved horns and midnight husk, he looks down on your slumber, grasping at your revelries and feeds on that furtive wanton lust. His sinful seduction is so cruel and deadly that you lie hopeless with suffering. Your disturbed sleep leads to chaotic thoughts of sexual nightmares and disturbing hypnotic states of scintillating salacious lust, night after night with this heavy weight upon your chest from an incubus growling for your ruttish, sluttish behavior ‘till your descending into a mad fulfillment of sex.
But this hypnotic state was nothing but a curse to you. As wonderful as it sounds to indulge into an immense amount of ecstasy, all you could think about was the trauma. The terror, the pain, the fear… And the more you were overridden with fear, the more he feeds off that. You were trapped in a never-ending nightmare of sex and horror.
The only place where you feel safe and away from the night terrors was at the cathedral. Welcoming with open arms to all sinners in need of guidance, prayer, and forgiveness. You were familiar with someone from the clergy, Father Geto, the most kindhearted and genuine man that cares so much for your wellbeing. He lets you feel safe with him. He lets you feel comfortable with him. He was the only available man you could trust opening up to amidst the agony and pain you’ve endured.
You remember stepping foot in the cathedral on your first Sunday, suddenly hit by deja vu as if you seen this place before. Shrugging that off, however, you were desperately seeking advice on how to overcome your pain. But then finally came a miracle; the most comforting guidance from a gentleman like Father Geto. He was open-minded, he was tender-hearted. With his patience and his virtue, you kept coming back every Sunday, slowly opening up about your fears, traumas, sexual frustrations, and strong guilt. No matter what you confessed, the sincere priest offered the greatest sympathy and rapport you could ever imagine. You treasured his solace and idolized his wisdom. Father Geto’s presence alone was your gift from god.
But the more you spent time with him, your gruesome night terrors from this feral demon grow stronger and strangely vivid every night. You wake up feeling violated, ashamed, broken. It was as if Father Geto’s comforting words was all futile and these night terrors will continue to haunt you for god knows how long. You never, never confessed to anybody about these dangerous night terrors, and if you were to describe them to your therapist, you could only manage to do so metaphorically. They don’t understand. Nobody could understand.
There was no other way to describe the horrors you’ve suffered through. Left with no hope, you had one last option.
The evening mass was over and the church goers and clergy members were departing. As confessionals were wrapping up, you were the last to sit in the booth alone with Father Geto. Although the both of you already knew each other, the screen covering the both of you was helpful enough to let everything out of your system. You quickly made the sign of the cross, told the date of your last confession, and exhaled sharply as you were mentally preparing for the dark truths were about to confess.
“Ah, Y/N. My most endearing penitent of the church,” Geto greeted. “How are you feeling?”
“Father Geto… I’m— I’m just gonna get straight to the point. Sometimes I’m not entirely honest whenever I’m in confessionals. With the pain that I’m dealing with and you’re aware of, it’s not… really the whole story.”
“You can tell me anything,” he reassures, shifting in his seat. “Only if you are comfortable, of course. But please do know that I won’t condemn you at all.”
“I know that, Father. I’ve been trying to force myself to open up about everything. Why I’m really suffering from these night terrors. But I held back because of how unbelievable it sounds. So please… hear me out tonight, Father. You are my last hope.”
The priest remains quiet from across the screen as he patiently awaits for you to continue. Flashbacks of those terrorizing night terrors sent a trail of goosebumps hugging your skin. Your throat felt clogged as if you were about to cry, but you fought back your fears and your reluctance. It was time you spoke of the forbidden in desperate need of a cure.
“Everywhere I go, I see this… shadowy creature. Hiding somewhere as it watches me from afar, never taking its eyes off me. When it’s night, I’m afraid of falling asleep because I see it everytime in my dreams, turning them to night terrors. I force myself to stay awake every night but it’s as if the demon won’t let me… I end up sleepy, passed out somewhere and then he awakens whenever I’m unconscious. In these night terrors, the— the demon, the incubus— I feel him violate me every night,” your voice trembled as you confessed, crossing your arms together to hug yourself.
“What he does to me when I’m asleep— it’s like, my body is asleep but my soul is awake and alive someplace else, like a grand altar in Hell. This sounds carnal, but my body succumbs to the sexual energy from him and I can’t fight it. Some night terrors are pleasurable while some are… traumatizing. He tells me that my sexual energy is special and that I should reserve myself for only him. And the more he feeds off it, the more I feel… filthy. Everything that I’ve done with him just weighs more guilt and trauma on me. I— I don’t know how long I can live like this, Father…”
“Oh dear,” the priest consoled, sighing deeply. “And you say you feel guilty about having these night terrors that make you indulge to sexual pleasure?”
You sniffled, voice almost cracking. “Yes. I’m— I’m a sinner in the eyes of god… I feel as if my purity crumbled and fulfilling celibacy was a waste, Father. Because I— I’m ashamed to say this… That demon changed something in me. I offer my arousal and my body to him every night. In exchange, I feel bliss and pleasure, but it all turns into this… horrifying nightmare in the end.”
Geto pursed his lips as he heard you silently weeping from across the screen, staring blankly at the wooden platform. “Poor dear… Having these sexual desires and carnality were never a sin. It’s normal to act upon your sexual urges. Now, I don’t mean to get personal, but it will help if you tell me; when you’re awake and not asleep, do you still feel these urges?”
There was a pause, then a deep inhale and exhale. “I do,” you mumbled. “Like I said, the demon changed something in me. It’s as if these urges are animalistic, lewd, and salacious…”
Father Geto hummed in amusement. “Animalistic urges. I feel as if you have this primal need to be dominated on, or having a bigger, dangerous man having you their way… Pinning you down, bending you over and pounding into you like the needy little slut you were this whole time…”
You frowned and quickly averted your gaze back to the screen, confused after hearing Father Geto’s voice suddenly change so ominously inhuman. Instead of hearing a delicate monotone, it sounded as if two people were speaking at once. A deep voice more guttural and aggressive, harmonized by a familiar female voice that was more sultry and sadistic, but heard as a soft whisper. You believed you were hallucinating.
“Father?”
Suddenly you felt a shiver coursing down your back. It felt as if the air had gone thicker, leaving your body frozen. Squinting at the screen, it appeared that Father Geto’s silhouette was completely still. No words, no movements at all. Struck with silence, your chest was thrumming loudly while the nerves of your body failed to oblige. Something felt unsettling to you.
Concerned about this prolonged silence and why his voice suddenly changed, you stand up and reach for the doorknob, only to suddenly halt at the sight of illuminating red rays peeking out the door frame. You quickly gasped and your heart raced erratically, petrified at what had just happened. Why the atmosphere and environment felt strangely familiar, yet dangerous. Why you felt a strong sense of deja vu. Even though your fear had driven your curiosity, opening the door was a mistake.
You were now in the same place where you end up every night— the altar of Hell. A night terror chamber illuminating the entire world a malicious dark red. There was the hotness of fire, the fresh atmosphere of death and evil. Muddy waters of blood and sin lurking in the gloomy pit you see every night, surrounded by dark toned flowers, smoke, and the polished structure of the cathedral.
It was no wonder this cathedral gave you deja vu. You’ve already been bere before.
You shut the wooden booth door and started to panic, your breaths growing heavier and your sense of stability deteriorating. It wasn’t until you looked down at your feet, trailing up your legs and seeing all your clothes were gone, naked skin already coated with blood stains. This was always what you looked like for every night terror. You feel this uncontrollable ache scorching your body from the feeling of despair and hopelessness. You didn’t know if you were lured into yet another dream; hell, you couldn’t even tell if this was reality or not. Your convulsions were flaring uncontrollably, worsening your panic.
“No, no, no… Help! Father Geto! Please, somebody help!” you screamed out, banging your fists on the confessional booth walls out of frustration but hearing nothing except your taunting echos reverberating. Your hopelessness crushed you to the point you collapsed on your knees and started crying once again.
“Father Geto is not here anymore.”
There goes that disturbing voice again. When you turn your head ever so slightly, your eyes widened in horror at the close proximity the incubus’ shadow was peeking under the door. You stood up and rushed to grab the knob to prevent him from getting in, but you were too late. The creature barges in, trapping you in this tight space and shutting the door. With your chest numb in horror, walking back slowly, your eyes travel up his tall figure and into his face. And suddenly your heartbeat expelled all of the air from your lungs at this horrifying sight.
In your dreams, the incubus’ face was more vague and warped, unable to identify any human-like features. But now his figure looked more like Father Geto, utterly paralyzing you with this sinking sensation of diabolical fear and painful turmoil.
Pathetic tears started to stream down your cheeks and your sobs were uncontrollable during your helpless state. You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe this was real. To find out the only man you felt safe with in opening up about the endless voids of your crippling chasm of pain… was also the cause of it. He fulfilled his mission and purpose of corrupting you this way, to torment your life for his satisfaction, and left you to feel ashamed about it in the end.
The incubus slanted his head, the end of his wicked lips curving to a small smirk. “What’s the matter, hm? You don’t like me in this form? Even though you knew me as my pathetic priest impersonation, I scare you like this?”
Your vision kept blurring with more tears as you felt furious, betrayed, hurt, and shattered all at once. Your throat started to ache and your trembling voice groveled weak. “It… it was you this whole time…? Sending those nightmares after me every night, violating me..?”
Geto the demon-priest chuckled sinisterly, inching closer to your body that you backed up into the wall, trapped and helpless. “I knew from the very first time you walked into this church… that I was gonna have my own way with you. You had this mask of perfection going on, this whole act of maintaining your purity and innocence for the church. You were obsessed with receiving the validation of being a celibate. When really… you were nothing but a perverted slut behind closed doors, begging for those filthy fantasies of yours to be fulfilled. It didn’t matter who— a stranger, your neighbor, your coworker, your local priest…? Oh, you were so perfect for me the more I kept hearing your wanton thoughts. I’ve watched you every day and do what I want with you every night. Your sexual energy kept me satisfied for weeks, but a creature like me can never have enough. You became the spring in my step, the fire in my chest, the reason for my algolagnia. And for me to abandon my modest persona and back to this form just to give you what you want… you should be thanking me.”
Your heart was racing like wildfire, pounding loudly in your ears. You could feel your own blood being forced through your veins with every loud thump of your broken heart. His large hands travel up your body, its skin texture rocky like scales that burned like coal for days after being shed. You were too stunned from the unfolding of events to fight back and run away. You sobbed, you pleaded, but nothing could stop the demon-priest from the way he was going to have you, just as how he has you wrapped around his finger every night.
Geto had you pinned against the wall, unable to move from the suffocating grip he has on your throat. The cry that tried to rise up from your throat got caught, coming out more as a strangled sob. He bites harshly around your body, sharp teeth sinking into your fragile skin, causing you to squirm only for the scorching pain to torment you more.
“Ah, ah. Did your slutty, stupid brain forget what happens when you try to squirm away from me?” mused the incubus. “You have no control over your body anymore. All of you belongs to me.”
He abruptly flips your body over to face the wall and locks your arms behind your back. Every fiber of your being tenses up at the close proximity he was from behind, his body heat transmitting onto your back. You can feel his cockhead grazing the folds of your swollen cunt, inching it ever so slightly inside. The more you struggled, the more pain accompanied your burning soul. It felt as if numerous tremors were shaking violently in your body as the incubus-priest stretched your cunt. You sobbed helplessly, drool already dripping on the wooden booth floors. His large hand snakes to your face from behind and clasps it over your mouth, snapping his hips against your ass to shove his entire cock inside you.
You let out a muffled cry, your body suddenly surrendering to this indescribable feeling of pleasure and torture. No matter how many times this exact moment of the demon sliding into you occurred in your nightmares, this reality felt oddly different. Your perceptions were more real, more vivid compared to when you’re unconscious. You can feel the texture of skin, you can legitimately feel his cock sliding in and it wasn’t just a throbbing sensation you get when you dream about demon sex. Geto took predatory thrill in your sudden realization and state of helplessness, fueling the fire as he started thrusting without notice. His sexual rage was surging right through you faster than your adrenaline it corrupted you.
“Oh, look at you. Fucking into your virgin cunt for the first time and you’re already in a bliss from how good I’m making you feel,” the demon coaxed, whispering up close to your ear from behind. “You see now? Letting me take control over you is just what you needed this whole time. You wanted this. And I’m gonna fuckin’ give it to you. I’m your true God now and all you have to offer is your body. Arch your back for me more. I’ll fuck you hard in this confession booth like how a hound takes a bitch.”
You could feel Geto raking against your insides as if he was molding your cunt to hug his cock perfectly. He pulled out for a brief second, then slammed back into you, pushing your entire body against the wall with only your ass sticking out and your shaking legs spreading. The most animalistic groan came from deep within his throat, once again sending chills down your body. He kept pounding his fat cock inside you, fucking you so frantically that your eyes almost rolled to the back of your skull. Every pathetic muffled moan of yours drove the demon insane. The pressure in your abdomen was soon to be soaring to its peak. It was so hot. Every part of your skin and body felt like it was on fire.
“Fuck, fuck… You make me want to fucking breed you,” the demon growled. “I’ve waited half a month to finally feel your virgin cunt in this form. And— ah, fuck— it was fucking worth the wait. You’d let me do that to you, right? Hm? Filling this fucking pussy with so much of my cum, overflowing you until that cute belly grows round with my young… You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
You kept moaning and whining pathetically on his hand that the demon-priest took it as a yes. Every harsh, rough thrust into your pussy sent you to an out-of-body experience. It didn’t matter to you how this was all possible anymore; you didn’t care if you were conscious, unconscious, or even stuck in Hell; all that mattered was the immeasurable rapture from being violated like this. Your fear and trauma were blurred out with pleasure flooding your body. All you thought about in this very moment was indulging into this sinful nature.
Suddenly every muscle in your body clenched as your first penetrative orgasm came in as waves of pleasure, spreading throughout your body like a wildfire in the middle of a scorching summer. Your body faltered, your legs struggled to keep your balance, and your mind was buzzing. You even felt your ears ring at one point. Geto’s cock pulses against your soaking walls, his balls aching to be emptied inside you. A few more thrusts and he’s letting out low groans with hot, sticky strings of his cum flooding your womb. Overloads of it started to drip onto the floor. Your head grew so hazy with intensity that the world around you started spinning. You looked like you were in a daze, your glossy face too fucked-out. It was suddenly hard for you to comprehend what was going on. Then, the same overwhelming panic started rising in you again. Terror struck you so suddenly like a lightning bolt, and your unending pain and fear strangled you like barbwire.
“Every time I have you… you’ll be trapped in endless torture with me. An eternity of sex and horror.”
Your shaken, weakened body collapsed onto the wooden floor, eyes slowly shutting and your thoughts becoming incoherent at this strange state. Every part of you was beginning to dull and the world around was becoming less tangible to you. Then suddenly, you blacked out; the last thing you ever saw was that creature standing over you with a smirk on their face.
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NOTES :: the way the reader got sent to hell here is basically the same as getting vecna’d. her body is unconscious in the confessional booth since her soul/mind got trapped in hell. lol
Ok, The Mortuary Assistant (indie horror game) currently has Christmas decoration in the game, so the morgue has Christmas lights and snowmen and candycane stickers on the walls and etc... but that's not the cool part!
The cool part is that the demon is wearing a little Santa Claus hat!!!!!
LOOK AT THEM!!!
They look so happy in their little hat!!!!
Also? Santa was added as one of the possible corpses! Literally, he'll show up with the name "Santa Claus" and he can be the possessed body!
I love this game aufjsudhduf I'm having a blast playing it, even though my computer can't handle it and it runs like a fucking potato.
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People be like "Alex!1!1!! Stop summoning demons at 3 in the morning!!1!!" but the demons want access into the mortal realm, and I refuse to disappoint them.
The only issue is when I have to draw the pentagram on the floor, and my antlers keep hitting the floor.
Ford starts. Bolting upright. He would scream if it wasn't for his ego. Instead a strangled croak will suffice.
'Bill?!'
All that effort he and his family have put in to work on his visions of the demon and here he is. It had taken weeks for Ford to finally start believing in a world without Bill...now those hopes have been dashed. 'You are one to talk Cipher!' He snaps back, ignoring the fact that Bill has and always will look like a well-rested youth. Lucky demons, they don't have to age. Bill looks the same now as when Ford first met them.
'Why are you here?! You should know by now I will never give you that equation.'
“A girl walks a winding forest path alone at midnight…”
Isn’t it always midnight?
Sage takes her time picking her way down the trail. She can’t really afford to hurt herself out here – no phone service and all.
Tonight, the electric lanterns placed at regular intervals along the path seem insufficient. New moons in the woods are always so dark. She guesses she ought to be used to it by now; used to the wind making the lanterns sway, causing uneven beams of light to crisscross amongst the trees.
Once, as she tries to maintain her unsure footing, Sage imagines seeing Him in the dimness.
Instinctively, she calls out, “HEY! WAIT!”
But it’s only a flicker. She can’t even really be sure of what she’s seen.
She’s most probably alone out here.
That is, until she reaches the Shrine.
Her friends are waiting for her here: Dayton and Cill and Aubrey. Waiting and laughing together; happy to see her.
Of course, they are.
“Sage!” Cill is the first of them to come running up to hug her.
Sage pulls her close, smiling into her friend’s incense-scented hair.
“Happy birthday.” Aubrey is the only one who doesn’t look overly enthusiastic.
She appreciates it; feels the worst for them – knows they’re only here because it was hell for them otherwise.
No, she’s far angrier with Dayton and Cill. The two assholes have been colluding.
She keeps this in mind when Dayton hugs her like he’s still her boyfriend – kisses her like he doesn’t care who sees, despite them both knowing Cill is pining not four feet away.
Sage can’t help but wonder at their plan. Especially since Aubrey’s birthday is last.
“I need you to know we’re not taking this for granted,” Cill says, actually having the gall to sound genuine.
Thankfully, Sage had personally heard her and Dayton talking. They’re traitors: demanding way too much from circumstances meant to benefit all four of them equally.
She only smiles in response before moving the stand before the Shrine.
It’s an ode to them: their friendship, their lives. A way of showing gratitude for all their blessings. It’s also the least conspicuous, if anyone besides them were to stumble upon it out here.
“We should go over the plan one more time,” Dayton says, then.
Why the hurry? she thinks. It’s my birthday all day today.
“Fuck the plan a second,” Aubrey interjects, sounding very close to hysterical. “This is fucking insane.”
“We agreed to this, Aubs,” Cill insists, gently.
“You know how dangerous it can be to back out of a deal like this,” Dayton tacks on.
Sage has also made up her mind.
“He’s done so much for us,” she throws in, quite convincingly, with the traitors.
And this seems to be all the convincing Aubrey needs. They nod once, gaze locked on Sage’s.
“Well, then, I say we start,” Dayton announces, throwing up his hood.
While Cill and Aubrey follow suit, Sage slips out of her coat, shivering in the fall air.
Somewhere, just beyond the clearing, an owl calls out from high above their heads.
Atmospheric, Sage concedes, going to turn off all the electric lanterns shedding light on the Shrine.
As she does this, Cill prepares the ritual incantation, and Dayton and Aubrey light the candles.
There are worse ways to go out.
This is what Sage takes with her when she steps back up to the Shrine.
Cill starts the incantation, which she’s obviously practiced, and the entire world around them falls silent.
The dramatic Latin reverberates around them, making the shadows deeper and the air heavier somehow. Sage can almost convince herself that the three floor-length black cloaks surrounding her are empty; filled with nothing but more of the impenetrable dark. Cill’s voice doesn’t even sound familiar anymore.
For a moment, the black summoning candles flare brighter, and then Sage knows she’s no longer alone in the circle her friends created. His presence has always been oddly comforting to her. Still is, maybe even because of what she’s planning.
Cill finishes her incantation and the three of them raise their knives.
With nothing but a wink as warning in Aubrey’s direction, Sage snaps her fingers and immediately Cill and Dayton burst into flames. The heat from their conflagration tickles her nose.
Aubrey drops their hood, frantically looking from Sage, to the two burning bodies – to Him.
Their Lord and Savior. The reason they breathe. Raw, magnificent power itself.
Elmoden.
The demon towers over them both at eight feet tall. Seems to be drinking in Cill and Dayton’s screams.
The strength to rain unholy wrath down on those that have wronged us is not found within us all, Elmoden’s voice echoes in their minds. For your bravery, I grant you one wish.
“Let me and Aubrey out of this deal,” Sage requests, firmly and without hesitation. “End our current servitude to you. We are grateful for all you’ve done, but dying is really just too sad.”
By this point, too much of the two traitors have burned for them to keep screaming. Sage’s well-researched, and practiced, spell means nothing but their bodies will catch fire, meaning their steadily cooking flesh really is only a them-problem.
If we cut ties, the magic you’ve gained until now will be lost to you, Elmoden warns.
Sage nods. “That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
And you? Elmoden aims at Aubrey.
“I’m with Sage,” they respond, moving to stand beside her.
She takes their hand.
Very well. Happy birthday, Sage.
Elmoden disappears, along with whatever’s left of Dayton and Cill.
They’re walking back to Aubrey’s place, talking.
“Isn’t virgin-sacrificing your girlfriend-slash-bestie to a demon to be homecoming king and queen, like, the biggest ‘sell-out’ move in history?” Sage posits.
“Absolutely, but you know what isn’t?” Aubrey muses. “Sacrificing other pathetic sell-outs to get back in favor with said demon, so you and the gay mess you saved can regain access to magic.”
Sage makes an impressed face. “I like the way the gay mess thinks.”
Aubrey grins, self-satisfied. “Should we start with the football team?”
