YCH "Insolence"
Hello there. I made another YCH auction, this time for a story of summoning gone wrong. Your character can be any gender and species. The summoned creature can be demon or other monster of your choosing. It doesn't have to end with vore if you don't want to.
Length ~2000 words, may be more
Starting bid 5$
Minimum bid 1$
Paypal
Auction ends 48h after last bid.
Who said that mortality is associated only with something feeble and insignificant?
And who said that summoning rituals were tied to gloomy basements, in pitch black darkness, to the sounds of reverse played heavy metal music?
While away from civilization, nobody could see the preparations on top of the snowy mountain, amidst the ruins of a long forbidden temple, house of eldritch god. But even destroyed and mostly hidden under white fluff, it still emanates a powerful aura, filling the air. Perfect.
A lone figure finally finished creating a pentagram with salt, pouring it over satin material, so it wouldn't mix with the snow. They wore a long coat with a hood covering their faces, although not trying to be edgy or "cool". Or they saw it in the horror movies. No, it was just too cold.
The figure didn't waste time and opened the book bound in goatskin, reading the words out loud, staring at the pentagram. They didn't even bother with putting the candles since the icy wind would make them useless, plus it was mostly just for the aesthetics. The bell was the main prop.
Their voice echoed down the peak of a forgotten mountain in language that wasn't heard here in hundreds of years. The wind strengthened, while the coat flapped violently in it, giving a truly remarkable picture of a mere mortal, dominating the powers they couldn't even imagine.
After the long incantation and sound of the bell, something unexpected happened. Ruined walls shook, while the vision of the summoner blurred. Like through thick fog, the scene darkened while everything went quiet. Even the wind seemed to calm itself, although it was a different cause of that.
The summoner stood before the pentagram, but no longer ankles in the snow. It was inside of the temple, new, like it was built just yesterday. Paintings of nightmarish creatures stared at him with disgusted expressions in the dim light of crimson candles.
At the end of the room they could see an altar and a massive golden figure of a divine entity they couldn't recognize. But it was the same creature, materialized just before them.