The Sacrifces

Fear clawed at Matthew's throat as he made the descent into the chamber before them.

The air seemed to grow colder and colder with each step, turning Matthew's shallow breath into clouds. Seraph cast a beam of light from his palm to guide their way, his magic cutting a thin path through the darkness. His other hand clutched Matthew's own, and Matthew could sense the anxiety pouring from his body.

“Infinity’s gonna wanna see this,” Matthew whispered, pulling out his cellphone and turning on the camera.

The stairway broke out into a wide room, not guarded by another door. As his feet hit the floor, Matthew felt his heart sink into his stomach.

“Oh my…” he breathed under his breath.

The room was mostly shrouded in darkness, but Seraph’s light cut into into grisly sight. Dried blood stained deep into the concrete floor, and the thick stench of decay and bleach hung heavy in the air.

“Guys,” Aunora rasped, “Can you read this?” She had her hands planted on the wall, touching runes that were scrapped into the stone.

“I can read magic,” Matthew murmured, moving to her side. He studied it for several seconds, tracing the arcane script. “This stuff...it's ancient. It has to be at least a couple thousand years old.”

“There is still magic residue in them,” Seraph whispered, holding the end of Matthew's coat, “Whoever was here just used them.”

“Esper, is there anyone else in the room?” Matthew growled, hair falling across his face.

“Nothing else alive,” Esper replied, his voice hollow. He had his back turned to the group, facing the center of the room.

Aunora rocked on her heels, standing closely beside Matthew. “Can you make out what it says, even though it's old?”

Matthew squinted, taking Seraph’s hand and holding it closer to the wall. “I think it's some kind of spell,” he touched a symbol, “This one means ‘sacrifice.’” Matthew ran his fingers across the largest set of runes, “But this one is kinda tricky. These marks have a couple different translations, like, this one could be read as ‘magic,’ but considering how old these runes are, the more accurate meaning would be ‘life.’” He swallowed, fear falling on his face, “It says ‘The Circle of Life.’ That's what the spell is called.”  

“The crap does that mean?” Aunora breathed.

“I have no idea, I've never seen anything like this...The ritual for the spell, the instructions it has on the wall, it’s horrible,” Matthew gasped, stumbling back. He bumped into Esper, who twitched violently upon contact.

Matthew laid an arm over Esper’s shoulder, “What's wrong?” he asked, feeling the spirit tremble.

Matthew followed the direction where Esper’s head was pointed, and his stomach did a somersault.

In the center of the room, a large marble altar stood, inscribed with arcane runes. Fresh blood dripped down its stark white exterior.

But worst of all was the body draped across it.

Whomever this victim was had been mangled beyond recognition. His chest had been entirely ripped open, not by any human blade, but by an animal’s claws. Most of the flesh around the throat and lower jaw had been torn off, but his mouth was still twisted in a final gape of shock. His arms, covered in small cuts, hung limply off the sides of the altar.

Stumbling to the body, Matthew fell to his knees at the foot of the altar, a silent cry wrecking through his frame. His eyes caught a wallet near his side, and he solemnly opened it, spotting the driver's license inside.

Abiathar Norton.

“Oh no,” Aunora whispered, coming to Matthew's side and crouching beside him.

“No, no,” Matthew rasped, on the verge of hysterics, “This-this can't be happening-” He paused, suddenly clamping his hands over his mouth, “I think I'm going to be sick.”

Aunora wrapped her arm around Matthew's back as he leaned forward and heaved. She kept her eyes cast on Matthew, not daring to look at the mutilated body.

“What are we gonna tell his family, how do we tell his kids that their daddy was murdered?!” Matthew sobbed, burying his head in Aunora’s chest.

“Matthew,” Aunora whispered, but she couldn't find any proper comforting words, “It's gonna be okay.” She knew that was an empty promise.

“We shouldn't be here,” Matthew said, his voice empty. He had his arms wrapped around his body, leaning entirely on Aunora. Aunora held him with nervous hands, staring at Esper. Esper had his hands over Seraph’s eyes, the child visibly quivering.

“When should we bring in the next load of sacrifices?” a voice asked, slicing through the tense silence. It seemed to be coming from the top of the stairs.

“Until we clean up the last guy, Boss ain't gonna be doing that spell on nobody. You know how tidy he likes things to be,” replied a gruff female voice.  

Matthew gasped, they were trapped. There was no where to hide. Esper and Seraph huddled to the ground, and Matthew and Aunora stood protectively over them.

Two figures came down the stairwell, a thuggish man and women covered in tattoos. Matthew stood firm as they lock eyes, a look of shock falling over them.

“Hey, you don't have clearance to be down here!” the man cried.

Author's Note- matt and aunora’s relationship is really nice but i havent really tried to explore it until now