Suddenly, the seal began to shake and crack open, a putrid stench filled the air. From the depths of the netherworld, seven hellish beings emerged, their twisted forms contorted with malice and hatred.
Their skin was a stern shade of black cover in meandering venations of dendrils and cracks that pulsed with a sickening glow. Their eyes glowed red, as was the hue from the crevices of their being, filled with a burning rage that could drive even the bravest of warriors insane.
Twisted and gnarled, with sharp claws and teeth that dripped with lava, they moved with an unnatural grace, their movements heavy, yet sinuous like a serpent. These were seven foot humanoid amalgams of burning brimstone, seven of the forty legions of magma demons, governed by Amon, the seventh hell-spawn of mephisto.
As they rose from the seal, the sky bloated more darker and the air grew thick with the stench of sulfur. The ground trembled with each advancement they make.
Balthazar staggered, it was exceedingly difficult for even him, a voodoo shaman of a high realm, to control the monstrosities he had just summoned, yet he wasn't second guessing his judgements as it would make the beginning of his demise. They approached all six of the remaining followers, along with Balthazar himself. Their heavy breathes and suffocating presence sent shivers down the spines of the voodoo practitioners. A female amidst the frenzy, looked overwhelmed and subdued by fear, as she took a step back and that was it.
The flesh on her entire head had evaporated with a searing stench from the giant lava red hand grabbing hold of her head that was now reduced to cremated remains. The ground beneath her split open, even before her lifeless body could touch the floor, shadowy arms of countless apparitions grab hold and with that, she was dragged to hell.
This left Balthazar with two demons to control, and he was sweating buckets. These hellish beings were horrid and a force to be reckoned with, however, his resolve was far too bastion for fear to creep in. The same could be said for the five remaining followers, as they stood head high, staring into the bowels of hell itself.
After what felt like eternity, the magma demons bowed, awaiting their commands.
"Henceforth, I, Houngan Balthazar, yee summoner, shall master over yee." commanded the shaman, "And yee, spawns-of-hell, shall be my harbingers of despire. Yee shall bend to my will and let it be done, for upon my head flows the fiery blessings of Amon, thy master. Arise! And torment that who torment the people of spindleton."
His followers, after overcoming their fears and gaining control over each demon, repeated the words of their shaman. Instantly, the magma demons where no where to be seen.
Balthazar turned to face his followers, his eyes shining with a fierce intensity. "Ogun, Zephyr, Dhambala, Kriminel, Allegra, the five of you have been deemed worthy. In as much as we grieve the demise of our fallen comrades, we have no time to waste. The spirits have granted us their power," he said. "We are now blessed with their brutality. Let us set out to vanquish our oppressors, and use their blood as atonement to honor the spirits their aid."
"In conclusion, tonight marks the liberation of spindleton from the wicked clutches of Astrohallow. "
With that said, they dispersed in their dark gowns like ghostly apparitions with happy thoughts that the arrival of the demons, signal the beginning of a dark and terrifying era for Astrohallow and it's allies.
_____
In a distance, where scarcely any light shone through the thick pillows of cloud bottling the moon, a duo stood atop the tiled rooftop of a high tower, one that was arguably taller that most of Astrohallow's and secluded at that. To the left was a stout male, who physically appeared in his late twenties, and stood at roughly six feet tall.
He had a tar-black eyes of despair with short chalkboard gray bangs of hair partly held up in intricate black headpieces to the front, concealing majority of his face. The most distinctive feature was his white cloak, held in place over his shoulders and lower face by several buckles, which contrasted subtly with the naval blue sky.
He donned underneath his cape, a black attire also with several straps and buckles, and against his right leg was a holster that harbored his huge revolver. On his feet were sabatons made out of some kind of black alloy. Last but not least, he carried a violin case.
To his right was an iron clad giant, seemingly armed to the tooth with so much iron that the only obvious name that could be spawn from his look was Iron Tempest. Strapped on his back was a great sword gleaming in a dull shade of emerald green with rune engravings etched along both sides of the green blade.
"Hm, that's odd. " Vermilion uttered with a worried look.
"Uh, I suppose you're referring to how absurdly dense the spiritual pressure has gotten within these past few minutes..." Emerald, the iron clad giant inferred on Vermillion's worry.
"So my senses aren't playing tricks, you can sense it as well... "
"Of course I can, it's like a sour thumb... " Emerald confirmed, "You think that old fart is up to something? "
"I sure hope not, for his own sake and that of spindleton's."
"I know right. " agreed Emerald, "The last time we sensed this much spiritual pressure, it took us everything to put things back in order. Astrohallow's pin on us also got worse. Balthazar never learns. "
"Well just prepare for whatever is underway. "
****