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Your village was a quiet, humble place nestled in the shadow of a mountain, known for its verdant fields and peaceful way of life. The villagers were simple folk—farmers, shepherds, and artisans who lived in harmony with the land. Everyone knew one another, and festivals were celebrated with laughter and song. But in the weeks leading up to the fateful night, something had begun to shift. Strange figures cloaked in shadow were seen near the outskirts, livestock began to disappear, and mutilated remains were discovered in the woods. A sense of unease settled over the community, though no one could have imagined the horrors to come.
The attack came on a moonless night, shrouded in unnatural darkness. Villagers were roused by clanging bells and guttural chants, and flames erupted from the square where hooded figures gathered around a glowing rune circle. Their leader, a gaunt man with glowing red eyes and a voice like the echo of the abyss, raised a wicked blade and declared the dawn of a new age. Cultists moved methodically, dragging people from their homes to the square. Resistance was met with brutal efficiency—those who fought were slaughtered or subdued with dark magic. Helpless, you watched as your neighbors were bound in a massive spiral around the runic circle. The leader began chanting, his voice rising as each villager was sacrificed, their blood feeding the glowing runes. The air grew thick with sulfur, and the ground trembled. When the final scream faded, the circle erupted in a column of fire, and from it emerged a monstrous entity—a towering demon wreathed in flame and shadow. Its presence was overwhelming, and with a wave of its massive hand, the entire village was engulfed in hellfire. Homes, crops, and people were consumed in moments. Friends and loved ones burned before your eyes as the cultists laughed and walked willingly into the flames to join their master.
Amid the chaos, you remembered the old tunnel beneath the chapel, used long ago by clergy to escape danger. In the confusion, you broke free and sprinted to the chapel, flames licking your heels as the inferno raged around you. You pushed aside a loose stone slab behind the altar and plunged into the narrow, pitch-black passage, choking on smoke and fear. The screams of the dying faded behind you until there was only silence. When you emerged hours later, you collapsed, staring at the distant glow of your village’s destruction.
