The Ritual Begin

Chapter 6: The Ritual Begins

Avery couldn't sleep.

She lay on Liam's worn-out couch, staring at the ceiling while shadows danced across the walls. The faint red glow from the Heartstone pulsed steadily on the nearby table, its light flickering like a weak candle. The icy ache in her chest had spread — cold tendrils now stretched down her arms and into her fingertips.

The demon's mark was getting stronger.

Avery clenched her eyes shut, trying to push away the whispers that had started to fill her mind. They came and went like distant echoes — faint but relentless.

"The gate will open... your soul is mine..."

She squeezed her hands into fists. Not tonight. Not ever.

A sudden knock at the door jolted her. She shot upright, her pulse hammering in her ears.

Liam appeared from his bedroom, shirt half-buttoned and a knife already in his hand. "Stay back," he warned, moving toward the door.

The knock came again — louder this time.

"It's me," a voice called. "Price."

Liam scowled and opened the door. Calder Price stood in the hallway, a grim look on his face.

"I didn't think you'd show up," Liam said dryly.

"I didn't have a choice," Price muttered, stepping inside. He barely spared Avery a glance before heading straight for the Heartstone.

"You're getting worse," he told her without preamble. "I can feel the demon's presence growing inside you."

Avery swallowed hard. "How long do I have?"

"Days, maybe less," Price said. "If we don't perform the ritual tonight, the Devourer's mark will spread... and when the blood moon rises, you won't be able to stop it."

Avery's heart sank. "Tonight?"

"You're not ready," Liam cut in. "We haven't even planned—"

"There's no time," Price snapped. "The longer we wait, the stronger the demon's hold becomes. The ritual must happen now."

Avery's chest tightened. The cold pressure inside her seemed to pulse in response, almost like the demon knew what they were planning.

"I'll do it," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Tell me what I have to do."

Preparing for the Ritual

The apartment's living room had been transformed. Candles flickered on every surface, their warm glow barely cutting through the tension in the air. Strange symbols were drawn in chalk across the floor — circles, runes, and lines that twisted together like a web.

"The circle is for protection," Price explained, placing the Heartstone in the center. "Once you're inside, the demon can't reach you — unless you break the boundary."

Avery nodded stiffly.

"You'll need to focus," Price continued. "The Heartstone will pull the demon's energy from you — but only if you're strong enough to resist its influence."

"What happens if I'm not?" Avery asked.

"You'll lose control," Price said flatly. "And if that happens..." He glanced at Liam. "You know what to do."

Liam's jaw clenched. "I'm not letting her die."

"If it's her or the entire city?" Price shot back. "You know what's at stake."

Avery's stomach twisted. "I'll be fine," she said quickly, forcing confidence into her voice. "I can handle this."

Liam's gaze softened as he met her eyes. "I know you can," he said quietly. "But I'll be right here if things go wrong."

Avery stepped into the circle. The chalk symbols glowed faintly beneath her feet, and the Heartstone's red light seemed to pulse faster. The cold pressure in her chest flared painfully, and the whispers in her head surged louder.

"You cannot stop me... you will open the gate..."

Avery shivered and knelt beside the Heartstone.

"Focus on the stone," Price instructed. "Let it draw out the demon's influence. Whatever you hear... whatever you feel... don't listen. Just hold on."

"Got it," Avery whispered.

Price knelt outside the circle, raising his hands. "Ready?"

Avery took a deep breath. "Ready."

Price began to chant.

The Ritual

The air thickened almost immediately. The candle flames flickered wildly, and the shadows on the walls seemed to grow claws and teeth. The cold in Avery's chest twisted tighter, and the whispers turned to sharp, angry voices.

"You are mine... surrender... surrender..."

Avery gritted her teeth and stared at the Heartstone. The red glow flared brighter, and she felt something — cold and clawing — start to rise from her core.

"I... I think it's working," she gasped.

"Stay focused!" Price barked.

The cold turned to ice — stabbing through her ribs, curling around her spine. The whispers grew deafening, overlapping in a chaotic storm.

"Let me in... let me in... LET ME IN..."

The air around her rippled, and for a moment, Avery saw a shape forming in the shadows — two burning eyes and a twisted grin.

"NO!" she screamed, squeezing her eyes shut.

The demon's laughter rang in her skull.

"You're too weak... I will take everything..."

The pressure built higher, and Avery felt her strength slipping. Her fingers dug into the floor, scraping against the chalk symbols.

"I can't... I can't hold it," she gasped.

"You can!" Liam shouted. "Don't listen to it — focus on me!"

Through the haze of pain, Avery forced her eyes open. Liam was kneeling outside the circle, his hand hovering just inches from hers.

"I'm right here," he said firmly. "You're stronger than this."

"I'm not..." Avery's voice broke. "I can't..."

"Yes, you can," Liam insisted. "You survived the cult. You made it this far — you're stronger than you think."

Avery's breathing slowed. She forced her gaze back to the Heartstone. The red light flickered violently, but she reached out and pressed her palm against it.

The cold flared — sharp and brutal — and the demon's voice screamed inside her head.

"NOOOO!"

A burst of red light exploded from the Heartstone, flooding the room with warmth. Avery felt the cold rip itself from her chest — like icy claws being torn away. The pain vanished, and the whispers stopped.

When she opened her eyes, the demon's twisted shadow was gone.

"You did it," Liam whispered.

Avery's body shook as exhaustion hit her like a wave. She barely felt Liam's arms catch her as she collapsed.

"You're safe now," he murmured, holding her tightly. "I've got you."

Hours Later

When Avery finally woke, the apartment was quiet. The candles had burned low, and Liam was sitting nearby, half-asleep in a chair.

"You're awake," he said groggily, rubbing his eyes.

"Barely," Avery croaked. "Did... did it work?"

Liam smiled. "Yeah. You're free."

For the first time in days, Avery felt warm again. The icy ache was gone.

But even as relief washed over her, a dark thought lingered in the back of her mind — a warning whisper that refused to fade.

The cult wasn't finished.

And the blood moon was still coming. 

The apartment was cold and quiet when Avery finally opened her eyes. Her body ached like she'd run a marathon, and her head throbbed as if something had been digging through her skull. For a moment, she forgot where she was. The flickering candlelight, the chalk symbols on the floor, and the faint scent of burnt herbs brought it all back.

She shifted slightly, and a warm hand brushed against hers.

"You're awake."

Avery turned her head. Liam was sitting on the floor beside her, his arms resting on his knees. His face was drawn with exhaustion, but his eyes brightened when he saw her.

"How long...?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"A few hours," Liam said. "You scared the hell out of me."

Avery tried to sit up, but her muscles protested. Liam reached out to help her, his hand steady and warm.

"You should rest," he said softly. "You've been through a lot."

"I can't," Avery murmured. "That thing... the Devourer... I felt it." She shivered, memories of the demon's voice curling in her mind. "It didn't want to leave me. It was... angry."

Liam's expression darkened. "It's not gone for good," he said. "We forced it out of you, but it's still out there — and it's still after you."

"I figured," Avery muttered, her fingers tracing the faint red mark on her wrist. The demon's touch had left a scar — jagged and crimson, like a burn.

Price stepped forward from the shadows, startling her.

"You're lucky to be alive," he said gruffly. "The Devourer doesn't give up its prey easily."

"I noticed," Avery said dryly.

Price knelt by the chalk circle, examining the faint scorch marks that had appeared during the ritual. The symbols were smudged, the lines broken in places.

"This isn't good," Price muttered.

"What's wrong?" Liam asked.

"The circle was supposed to stay intact," Price said grimly. "The fact that it's broken means the Devourer was stronger than we thought." He turned to Avery. "It's not done with you yet."

"But I thought the Heartstone stopped it," Avery protested.

"It stopped it for now," Price corrected. "But the demon marked you... and once you've been marked, it's like leaving a trail of blood in the water. The Devourer will keep coming back."

"Then what's the point of all this?" Avery snapped, her frustration boiling over. "I went through that ritual... nearly got torn apart... and for what?"

"To buy you time," Price said. "The Devourer feeds on souls — and once it's chosen someone, it doesn't stop hunting them until it succeeds. You've delayed it, but it's still out there... waiting for another chance."

Avery's stomach twisted. "So what do I do?"

"Stay close," Liam said firmly. "We'll figure this out."

Later That Night

Avery sat on the apartment's small balcony, wrapped in one of Liam's oversized hoodies. The city below was calm — distant traffic murmuring through the streets. Normally, the quiet would have soothed her, but now it just felt... wrong.

Every shadow seemed to move. Every gust of wind felt like cold fingers brushing against her skin.

"Can't sleep?" Liam's voice startled her.

She turned to see him leaning in the doorway, arms crossed. He looked just as exhausted as she felt.

"Not really," she admitted.

Liam stepped outside and leaned against the railing beside her. "I get it," he said. "After my first run-in with a demon, I didn't sleep for three days."

"How did you get used to this?" Avery asked. "The nightmares... the feeling that something's always watching you?"

Liam was quiet for a long moment.

"I didn't," he said finally. "You just... learn to live with it."

"That's comforting," Avery muttered.

They stood in silence for a moment, the cool night air brushing against their faces.

"You know," Liam said quietly, "you were pretty amazing back there."

Avery snorted. "I felt like I was falling apart."

"You didn't give in," Liam said. "That's what matters."

His gaze softened, and for a moment, Avery forgot about the demon, the cult, and the mark on her wrist.

"I'm glad you're here," she said softly.

"Me too," Liam replied.

The warmth in his voice made Avery's heart stutter — but before she could say anything else, a sharp thud sounded from the alley below.

Liam's hand shot to his knife.

"Did you hear that?" Avery whispered.

"Yeah," Liam muttered. "Stay here."

Before she could argue, Liam slipped through the doorway and disappeared inside. Avery gripped the railing, her eyes locked on the alley below.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then, something moved — a shadow shifting against the brick wall.

A figure stepped into view — tall and cloaked in dark robes. Their face was hidden beneath a hood, but Avery could see a faint glow beneath the fabric... like red embers flickering to life.

Her breath caught.

The cult.

The figure lifted their hand, and a glowing red symbol burned in their palm — identical to the mark on Avery's wrist.

"Avery Cole," a low voice rasped from the darkness. "The Devourer wants you."

The figure took a step closer — and the air around them twisted, like heat shimmering off pavement.

A cold voice echoed in Avery's mind:

"You cannot run... you cannot hide..."

She stumbled back, panic rising in her chest.

"LIAM!" she screamed.

The figure reached into their robes — and Avery caught the glint of a dagger.

Footsteps thundered behind her, and Liam appeared at the doorway, knife in hand.

"Get away from her!" he barked.

The figure didn't flinch. Instead, they pointed their dagger toward Avery — and the symbol on their palm flared brighter.

A searing pain shot through Avery's wrist, and she dropped to her knees with a cry.

"Avery!" Liam lunged forward — but before he could reach her, the cloaked figure vanished into the shadows, leaving only the faint scent of smoke behind.

Liam knelt beside Avery, gripping her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he asked urgently.

Avery clutched her wrist, her fingers trembling against the burning mark. The pain was fading, but the memory of that voice still echoed in her head.

"They're coming for me," she whispered. "The Devourer... it's not finished with me."

Liam's hand tightened protectively around hers.

"Then we'll be ready," he promised.

But even as he said it, Avery couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out... and the blood moon was getting closer.