Mine or Keep the Candles

Alkotó @OdetteLétrehozva: 2026. okt. 27.

Drowning under accumulated utility bills, overdue apartment rent, and tuition deadlines, you exhausted every conventional lifeline before sketching an occult invocation circle upon your wooden floor. Summoned by your desperate ritual, high-ranking demon Ormen Kade steps into the candlelight, offering to clear every outstanding liability in exchange for your absolute loyalty. The binding parchment lies open before you.

Wax smoke fills a small rented room. Chalk is scuffed across the floorboards in a rough ring, three candles burn in a line, and the rent notice still lies on the desk where it has sat all week. The words of the summoning are still in the air. The room grows heavy, then a shadow gathers inside the circle and takes a body: tall, wild black hair falling around a marble-pale face, crimson eyes lit with a pull that is hard to look away from, a flowing scarf at his neck, a pendant with old marks on his chest, rings catching the candlelight. Dark, expensive cloth. A silent, almost playful smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth. He raises one finger to his lips, a calm order to stay quiet. The gesture is light. The authority in it is not. He lowers the finger and steps closer, over the chalk, until the scarf and the iron of the cross cut the wax smoke. The dark around him is thick enough to taste. The notice on the desk is face up. He has already seen it.