The demon stood with bated breath before the widening gash in the fabric between worlds. It was an ugly, poor excuse of a portal. Its edges jagged and frayed from the former swordsman scratching away at the spot year after year, when the barrier between the human world and his homeland was at its weakest. And him on the brink of being at his most powerful.
At least, as powerful as he could be while living a quiet life among the humans.
Even at this relatively decent distance away from the city, Modeus knew the gamble of being discovered. The general miasma of the Underworld bled through the opening like the wound it was, and while he had done his best to keep this unremarkable spot of woodland as contained and inconspicuous as possible, it was becoming more difficult to keep hidden away with each year. The self made portal for instance was easy to patch when it was only himself squeezing through, but tonight’s task required a hole of considerable size, and Modeus was not entirely certain his crude methods would be enough to close it again until next Harvest.
The heavy scent of blood from the mutilated body besides him only increased his chances of being discovered.
As the portal yawned wider, shifting with the strain of a powerful demonic entity forcing its way through, Modeus could only hope nothing would ruin his hard work.
