Warning: Violence and general creepiness. A demonic summoning ritual in Latin (do NOT try it at home). Also? Dark is one scary sonnuvabitch.
Masterlist: Available here. It will be updated soon.
Based on an anonymous request: “Reader that has encountered and escaped Darkiplier before is in a dangerous situation. Eventually the situation gets bad enough that the reader has to call upon Darkiplier.”
This request is something I responded conversationally to last month in an AMA, but didn’t actually write a fic for prior to now. I thought it would be a tasty treat while you all are waiting for the next chapter of “From Beneath You, It Devours.”
Enjoy, and don’t forget to like and reblog to share the love!
People screamed. There was the sound of gunshots ringing out all around. Chaos reigned in what had been a quiet building, as the robbers shouted orders then shoved the bank’s employees and customers alike into the vault.
You stared fearfully around at the other people who remained, the ones who weren’t lying in a pool of their own blood on the bank’s main floor. You trembled, shook and fought back the urge to cry. I don’t want to die! you thought. And these people don’t deserve to die!
Desperate, you surrendered to what was now your only option.
You had to call upon Him. There was no other choice. More people would be likely to die before the authorities would be able to reach the building in time and negotiate for the release of the hostages. Everyone needed to get out alive, right now.
You took a deep breath and found a quiet corner inside the vault. You pulled your compact mirror and a lighter out of your purse. It wasn’t quite the right setup for a proper summoning, but it would have to do. Hopefully, it would work.
Making certain the flame from the lighter was reflected in the compact, you whispered, “Te invoco Tenebras. Et ad congregandum… eos coram me. Servatis a periculo. O Deus Infernale, liberas nos.”
There was a deep growl as the very foundations of the building shook and the metal drawers of the vault groaned under pressure, threatening to fly apart. What light there was was immediately snuffed out, and the shadows grew and became absolute. The others screamed again, this time in sheer mortal terror rather than mere fright, but their voices sounded far smaller amid the inhuman roar.
The telltale ringing that heralded His arrival began. You didn’t see Him, but you distantly heard the robbers’ panicked firing of their weapons. Then, the rest was silence but for the peculiar droning note of His presence.
The massive, thick metal door of the vault twisted and was flung away by an unseen force… as if it were no more than a piece of paper being crumpled and tossed into a trash bin.
The shadows receded, pulled away, and the droning note faded. Then He was there, the light from the entryway framing His form. “You may leave,” He intoned with His familiar demonic echo, and stepped aside to allow the prisoners to flee. The hostages immediately surged through the entry, not thinking to look back.
You moved forward to follow them out, and He added, “But not you. I am owed a soul, you understand. And you have attempted to evade Me long enough.”
With the calm resignation of one facing certain death, you bowed your head before Him. “Yes, sir. For the price of saving those innocent people, my soul is Yours to take.”
He tilted His head curiously as He regarded you. “Do you have regrets calling upon Me?”
You looked Him in the eye. “No. I would do it again, if I had to.”
He smiled. “Good.”
You let the Darkness consume you.
Latin translation: “I call upon the Darkness. I beseech you to come before me. Save us from danger. Oh God of Hell, deliver us.”