The cylinder of a revolver spins rapidly, creating a light buzzing sound as the crashing waves roar in all directions around the two figures standing on a platform.
"Sunao. You don't wan'a do this." A deep raspy southern accent comes out of the man with a revolver in his hand. The revolver looks slick, black, and glowing a pale blue.
"Says who."
"Sunao please! Just listen to me, you'll regret what you're about to do. I promise." The older gentleman's voice begins to give way, crackling, as he pleads with the young woman in front of him.
The young woman looks back at the old man. "Someone much greater than I lost their life to a beggar. She was always at the forefront of the city, protesting and starting change for the better. She always knew and acted upon what was right. Year after year came, as I watched in her shadow. However she didn't last long against the sins of the city, and our fathers. One day at a soup kitchen she worked at, a man in tattered clothes showed up at the counter. He smelled of disease and rot, however she didn't treat him any differently. With a smile on her face she served him a bowl, and in return he—" The young woman with the name Sunao gets cut off by the old man.
"Wait— don't tell me you ar—" The old man's arm is suddenly laying on the ground in front of him, revolver in hand. No blood splatters, no sound was made, just a clean cut.
The old man screams in agony, and drops to his knees immediately, as the woman continues her story:
"With a smile on her damn face she served him a bowl, and in return he detonated the sigils on his body, blowing the entire kitchen to smithereens. I know the beggar didn't want to. Tears welled in his eyes as he mouthed 'Sorry' to a victim he didn't even know. Of course, I found the foul creatures that some still considered to be human. The ones who took her life. I slaughtered them like the pigs they really are. Listen close, Manya."
The old man looks up at a stopwatch that she is holding in front of him: A beautiful black stained glass beholding an hour and minute hand, permanently stuck at 11:11.
"My sinner, which art in Hell, Desecrated is your name." Manya looks up in fear at the stopwatch, as the black stained glass begins to move.
"Thy time will come. Our will be done in Hell, as it is Eleven." Manya's gaze moves up to Sunao, who looks down with a consuming smile on her face.
"Give us this hour our righteous glory. And forgive me my selfishness, as I forgive those that trespass against us." Manya tries to open his mouth to scream, but as soon as his lips part, a thick black ooze starts to seem from nostrils and eyes, causing him to choke and gag.
"And lead us not into Heaven," Manya's choked scream finally escapes his mouth, but words cannot be formed with the dark ichor streaming from his throat.
"But deliver us from evil.
For ours is the realm,
The Hell, and the journey,
Forever and ever.
Ascend."
Manya collapses onto his stomach, and slowly comes to a still as he runs out of oxygen.
The revolver which lay next to Manya's body has its glow start to dim, slowly leading the metal grey platform to be only lit by the moons in the sky. The eleven moons are patterned in an arc, stretching off of the horizon and back down, in a parabolic shape.
Manya's body lay still for just a moment, bathing in this apathetic moonlight, before it began to spasm and twitch, like something was desperate to pierce the old withered skin of the man, and break free. A black tendril of solidifying ooze writhes its way quickly out of Manya's ear, before plunging back into the body's eye socket, making a loud squelching noise as it tears through the grey matter in Manya's brain. Sunao begins to walk away as the abyssal substance tears the body to pieces, leaving tattered pieces of flesh, eyeballs, and other miscellaneous organs strewn across the platform.
"Manya… Stand up when you are ready to serve eleven, when you are ready to serve me. A Queen, a proper ruler, a truly fit being." The black writhing mass slowly rises out of the corpse. Manya's skeleton emerges from the black ooze, bowing to the Queen.
"Good. Now let us get back to what we were doing. It's almost time for twelve."
As the Queen turns towards the horizon, and the boat beneath the elevated platform, a light shines from behind her. As she curiously turns around, a blue portal appears, stretching wider and wider, pulling her in. "What the hell—!".
All goes black for Sunao.