“Deep within the bowels of Imajinaereum, a Barbellite girl wept. Her warm tears slid across her face like tiny, slithering snakes. They drained and fell, infesting her already damp lap. The room around her was pitch black and so was her spirits: Black as coal. Serafina had never felt depression so profound. It was as if she couldn’t move, couldn’t eat. She could only sit in the dark and give birth to her colony of snakes. They bit her from the inside, infecting her with the poison of revenge. Joy long eclipsed, hate festered inside her like a sore that refused to heal. And this time she would let that cut decompose into something even more unsightly. Between sobs, Serafina reached for the razor beside her. The sharp blade was cold between her fingers. Deathly cold. Recent developments had catalyzed her pain and transformed it into something physical. Serafina contorted her torso as a marrow-deep ache threatened to lynch her. Soon, she would target the very source of her worries or die trying. The room seemed to darken as the thought blossomed inside her mind like a black flower. Then she reached for the bone-white scroll beside her. The parchment felt like the skin of a beast as she held it up before her face. Tonight she would set things in motion to murder her grandmother. In one quick jagged motion, Serafina slit her palm with the blade. She gasped at the sight of her blood flowing down her wrist. She felt only a prick. As her liberated blood dripped onto the parchment, she recited the words she had memorized years ago.” SacrificeDepressionDemonRitualWitchcraft And Spells Author:Asher Sharol
“They had ventured out into the chilly night with the sole intention of slaughtering as many humans as they could find and feasting on their blood. There had been a time (perhaps after he had killed his fiftieth victim) when he had thought he had finally acquired the state. The rush was unprecedented; the euphoria engulfed him as he and Jo shattered the dreams of the innocent. They cackled like hyenas as their blood-mania rendered them bestial.” TwilightVampiresVampires Paranormal RomanceWitchcraft And SpellsVampire Chronicles Book:Vampires of Twilight Castle Source: Vampires of Twilight Castle
“Up ahead, a shadowy building loomed. It looked more like a gothic cathedral than a school, with grossly elongated black spires jutting into the night sky. They unnerved Tony. Somehow, they resembled horns silhouetted against the moon. He counted ten of these protuberances, each with an arrowhead as its tip. Tony found the structure difficult to make his mind up about. It was beautiful, that was for sure, but its beauty was intermingled with an ill-masked sense of horror. The black exterior had a pair of peculiar projections on either side of the building resembling a bat's wings. His feet on concrete now, he pulled up to a webbed gate— also reminiscent of a bats with the hind, bone-like array supporting an oily black, translucent texture. He saw some girls a few dozen feet from the gate at the entrance of the building. They were garbed in black sailor fuku skirts too high above the knees to facilitate concentration upon anything academic. The males were also dressed in black corduroy pants and black dress shirt. A throng by the massive doors stared holes through them as they approached. Up close, he noted some of the girls were quite pale, sporting piercings and tattoos on their necks and hands. He even saw one with a spider web inked on the side of her face. When he followed Silver Man into the building— his toes squeaking in his soaked shoes—he was awed by the aesthetics. There was a rather large gathering in the hall that looked more like large shadows with all the children in black. Tony felt out of place in his brown pants and long sleeved white shirt. The hall was bleak; the only source of illumination was a pair of horizontal cylindrical lamps set upon wooden rafters near the ceiling. Silver Man proceeded toward the platform where Tony could just make out the form of a thin man donning a monocle. He looked like an old scientist. He was sitting cross-legged, stroking his chest-length pearl white beard. The man appeared to be watching them as they progressed through the hall. Then he stood as they neared the stage, now caressing his bald head. He had a monkish appearance. His black robe— quite similar to the one Silver Man wore— was tied at the waist by a red cloth. The bald, monocled man extended a spindly hand which Silver Man gave a firm tug before leaning in and whispering something. The man nodded, turning to Tony. Tony flinched as he regarded him through his peculiar eyewear: a single gold-rimmed, circular lens. He now folded himself into an accentuated bow. "Listen up folks!" he shouted. Tony saw the students rushing inside the castle pell-mell, summoned by the voice of the bespectacled man. “We have a late recruit ladies and gentlemen,” the man said. His voice was much stronger than his thin frame suggested. “Join me as I induct him into the hallowed spirit of Imajinaereum.” Witchcraft And SpellsA Discovery Of WitchesCastle Of ShadowsMagical School Book:Binds of Silver Magic Source: Binds of Silver Magic