http://elottebridger.blogspot.sg/2012/09/farewell-my-master.html
As the enchantment is taking effect, I feel my life forces slowly being drained by Kismeta's lifeless body. The silent of the night is so still that soon I could hear the pounding of her beatless heart, like thunder roaring, cracking the serenity of the night. It must be working. I thought to myself. The forbidden magic really does work. I clinch tight to the spell book winds begin to rise circling the pentagon drawn with my mortal blood.
There is always the danger. In such a ritual that drawn the dark forces from the dead, the undying are easily attracted. Especially with a living soul to be taken and blood spilled all over the altar. The transfer of my life forces into Kismeta is slow and agonizing. I could feel the would from my bleeding hand still from the drawing of the circle and my heart feel like it was being crushed from within as my life force is being squeezed right out of it.
I had to hurry. I knew the risk. Such foul stance of fresh blood and such call of the darkness could only open the gates to the deepest and darkest part of Hell itself. I knew I will be in no condition to fight off even the lesser of the demons, but still my hand held fast firmly on my sword hinged to my belt. I knew I will die trying, but I have to ensure my death will not be in vain.
I picked up the ritual dagger from the floor, still dripping with strains of crimson blood and plunge it deep onto my forearm, letting out more blood from it. This will speed up the resurrection. I have no time left. As I looked into the sky, dark sinister clouds begin to form above us, and lightning rage within it creating a symphony of horror with the howling winds.
"No!!! What are you doing master?" Kismeta awoken and screamed as she realized I had let out more blood, spilling onto the floor, covering it in dark red, likea carpet of death. As she tried to get up, I gently hold her down firmly and whispered. "No, I can't let this fail. Trust me! Even if I have to give up my life, I will succeed!"
It was said that this spell had cost many deaths, even among the greatest of the necromancers. I did not understand why, until from the floor of strained blood, a deep gruesome cracks surfaces and the earth split apart as a skeletonic arm struggles to pull whatever it belong to through the crack. I took a step back and realized that my greatest fear had came through. The resurrection had summon a Hellspawn, death evil spirits from the darkest part of Hell.
As the Hellspawn drag its floating body from the bindings of Hell, his dark hollows where his eyes once filled stared at me as he pulled his cloaked skeleton body from the crack. As he hissed, a dread smell of death and decay filled the air as he looked around, scanning passed Kismeta, simply because I am his greatest bait. With his scythe held high above his shoulder, he moved the jawbone on his skull and hissed in a hollow and hellish voice.
"Elotte Bridger! Your soul is MINE!!!" A dark and fearful scream erupts from his hollow mouth as I barely manage to hold myself from falling back by back stepping my left legs, firmly pushing hard against the ground below. I held on to my sword and I knew the inevitable outcome is upon me. Death. For no mortal man could hold against a Hellspawn and deny him of his soul. I am determine to be the first to live to tell the tale...
(To Be Continued...)
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