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 Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2008 1:48 am
 The concept of Daemonolgie is chaipon's, with help from zigeunerweisen` and koko tokei.
All the art is Chaipon's.
Journal ideas are Anya!XD's.
 
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Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2008 4:26 am
"Lufaarzitat. Step forward, please."
A cold, soulless voice echoed through the large, abandoned helicopter garage. The walls of garage were decorated crudely, with old and fresh skulls of all sizes strung in rows, and large inscriptions, written in both red paint and actual blood. In the very middle of the space stood about a hundred men, standing in a tightly-knit circle around a massive sigil that was painted on the ground. One man stood in the middle, robed in bloody rags. Even though there were so many men, the room remained cold and silent.
Another man, tall, thin and disheveled-looking, stepped forward and dropped to his knees, bowing on the floor in front of the robed man.
"You have requested to attempt the summoning of her Almighty Lilith, fully aware that this has failed more than once. The hauntings that have been reported, and the unexplainable death of Samuel Jungard in his home are considered to be punishment for failure. Are you willing to accept the consequences?" The man in the bloodied robe spoke loudly, but with no emotion. He was almost robotic, with his pale skin stretched taught over his skull, and his stiff movements. Soulless, some would say.
"I am willing." The man on the floor said, sitting up, but remaining on his knees. "I am willing to give my soul, if need be, to summon her almighty to this place, and rid the earth of the so-called do-gooders. I will summon Lilith!"
The man nodded, "Very well. To your feet, and we will begin the procedure."
Almost fifteen years on, the man named Jiran Lufaarzitat (who, in case you are wondering, did not successfully summon the demon Lilith) was at home, in the slums of Durem, alone. He poured over a large, leather-bound book, turning it's faded and yellowed pages slowly as he read over them. Pictures, diagrams, symbols, and thousands upon thousands of tiny, hand-written words covered each and every page, corner-to-corner.
Snorting in frustration, the hunched Israeli bought the front half of the book crashing into the back half, arousing a cloud of dust. "Not here, either!" He growled to himself, pushing the large armchair he was in back and standing up to find another book. Several other thick, ornate books were stacked messily on his desk, along with a few sheets of paper covered in notes, and a cheap pen.
Jiran scanned the shelf for a moment or two, before growling in rage and kicking it. A book dislodged itself from the tremor, and clunked Jiran roughly on the head. He swore loudly a kicked the book aside.
The book skidded across the room, clunked into a wall and fell open.
Jiran, still cursing to himself, slumped back down into the leather armchair and put a thin hand to his forehead. His fingers massaged his temple for a moment, but Jiran's eyes were wandering. The book still lay open, innocently sitting still in the corner of the room. A breeze came from under the study door, making it's pages flutter, almost enticingly.
(ah, reserved for moar soon ^w^)
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Posted: Sun Apr 13, 2008 7:20 pm
Jiran was sweating. Not that that was entirely unusual for the man, but as of ten minutes ago, when he had removed the rug from the middle of his lounge room and begun sweeping, his heart rate had skyrocketed.
He was really summoning Lilitu.
This time is wasn't a wild guess, some fools in cloaks, and misinformation. A summoner had given him the process. A real summoner, a practitioner of the arts, the man who runs the very place so many other demons had been summoned from. His heart skipped a beat.
He had finished the circle. The candles were sitting neatly nearby, along with a box of matches. Jiran knelt down in front of the circle, excruciatingly careful not to ruin the chalk. He lit the first candle, and breathed a nervous breath. he moved slowly around the circle, placing and lighting the second candle, then the third.
Jiran took a deep breath, double checking he had drawn the protective circles, and knelt down. he took another deep, calming breath, and said, softly and nervously, "Lilitu...Lilitu," He closed his eyes tightly, expectantly, "Lilitu."
For a small moment, nothing happened. Jiran chanced an open eye. Quite suddenly, though, a slight aroma filled the air. The aroma quickly turned to a thick stench, and Jiran gagged. it smelled of dirt, heat, animal sweat and dead flesh.
The air became thick enough to press against the very skin, and soon, the stench had become so strong, Jiran felt that he could see it. In fact, he could see it. Quite clearly!
The stench had manifested into the slowly strengthening image of a woman. Pink, black, and a mass of flesh tones darted through the smog, organizing themselves, until her figure, wings, tail, wispy hair, became much more prominent. In a matter of moments, it was all over.
"You!" The still-faded, wispy figure growled. Her voice seemed to be a choir of tortured woman whispering, talking and screaming all together. "The church fool!"
"Ch-church fool?" Jiran stuttered, mouth agape in amazement of demon HE himself had summoned! Lilitu! He summoned a Lilitu, all on his own! The shop was completely forgotten, by this point.
The demon flapped her wings angrily, blowing a wave of her stench towards him. The smell had subsided greatly, though it seemed it had all condensed to form the female-figure demon Lilitu. "You idiots, with your useless blood spill and careless waste! So many children, now inedible and buried! I should have you strung by your manhood!"
Jiran trembled at the rage of Lilitu, and shook his head, wringing his hands, "N-no! No mistress! They were sacrifices to Lilith!"
Lilitu let loose a cold and dry noise. Almost a hiss of rattling laughter that echoed through the very mind. "And how were we, my many sisters and I, and Lilith meant to receive these sacrifices? We would eat them through the ground? Gaze upon them with love and thanks? Would we then clasp our hands and say grace? Idiot! All you did was waste good blood, and destroy a part of our food-source!"
Jiran cowered like a scolded dog, and nodded, "Yes, mistress, yes! To right this wrong...that is the purpose of summoning you here!" A lie. Jiran was quite the natural liar, and he knew all to well that the demon would guess soon enough his true intentions. However, for now, it would do.
"To right the wrongs your church committed," Lilitu tested the statement in her mouth. Good enough. She flicked her tail and nodded. She peered around Jiran, now, at the circle. "I see you finally figured out how to do this, too?" She cackled and flapped her wings again, sending a gust of stench-filled air towards her summoner.
Jiran shrunk back slightly. "I had help, mistress," He murmured, greatly humbled by her presence. "And, in summoning you, I believe...we owe one another? In...the form of a pact, correct?"
Lilitu's eyes flashed dangerously. "This is true," She hissed quietly, eyeing him. "The first purpose of summoning me here is to correct this church of yours, yes? But I do believe it was disbanded, many years ago if I'm not wrong."
"Y-yes...I need your help. We need to...revive the church. Bring it back anew and...reinstate the horror and hatred it spread throughout this town, and eventually even further, perhaps. And you, deadly maiden, shall become the most powerful and feared Lilitu among your sisters. You shall rule the terror, on earth." He was groping around in his vocabulary desperately trying to convince the winged demon. If she did not believe him...would the summoning have been the biggest (and possibly last) mistake of his life? If she did believe him, he would have everything he'd ever wanted back. And the true power would reign over this town of idiotic faith and it's God.
Lilitu spread her wings and lashed her tail back and forth. "And what is the binding point of his pact?" She demanded, "When is the finalization of this? The resolution? And, most importantly, what do I receive in return?"
It wasn't like Jiran to not know his plan. After all, he had been planning for so very long, but...he hadn't known anything after all. The way Lilitu acted, and the things she spoke of were completely foreign to him. He thought that summoning her was the pact. That, in summoning her, she would be on earth to complete his request for as long as he wished. He dared not tell Lilitu this, as she would undoubtedly call him foolish. The finalization is...complete terror? Or is it the reinstatement of the church? His mind clicked over desperately trying to think of the 'final point' in this pact. He had hoped that Lilitu would remain in the mortal realm as the symbol and running force behind the Church of Lilith, and, in all honesty, had never thought of her as the demon she truly was. A demon was a beast who did things only with their own selfishness in mind...so what would a bind selfishness to...
"Food," Jiran gasped out, sweating once more from such heavy and desperate thinking.
"What?" Lilitu snarled, glaring down at him.
"In return for the reinstatement of the Church into complete power over this city...I will ensure that you are always with food. Young, fresh, the best I can do."
Lilitu licked her thick, pink lips and furled her wings. "Ah, a good offer," She agreed, grinning nastily down at her hapless summoner. He surely was a stupid man...but an eternal source of food, and the ruling power of an entire town...Lilitu was quite pleased.
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Posted: Sun Dec 06, 2009 7:06 am
Journal
(Jiran writes in small bursts througout the day. No entry is dated, and some are cluttered together on the same page.)
-There have been several days of severe storms. I do not know if Lilitu is to blame, and I am not sure if I would mind if she was.
-Finding food for her is, somehow, easier then I thought. I wonder if this is her doing, and she somehow protects me from being noticed. I don't know if she can do that, but it is how it seems to happen. She lays about on me after feeding, arms draped around me like a lady friend aught to act when intoxicated; I think it is out of gratitude. My inner most desire likes to tell me otherwise, but I dare not think this for longer then necessary. I fear what she would do if she knew.
-I have grown accustomed to her smell, somewhat. Or perhaps I have grown accustomed to feeling ill. I feel nauseous, every single day, with her. Nauseous, yet somehow deeply respectful and eager to serve her every wish. The stench surronds me, stick to me, to my clothes and my bed and my house.
Do I mind?
I cannot tell.
-Progress towards the church's return to power is little-to-none. I do not want to bring it up with her, but I feel impatient. Soon we will run out of victims. Soon, people will notice me, and hunt me from anger and for revenge. I want to wait quietly, but I am afraid.
~Jiran
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Posted: Sat Jan 09, 2010 12:12 am
Journal
(Jiran writes in small bursts througout the day. No entry is dated, and some are cluttered together on the same page.)
-We have been forced to take to the road. It is not a complete lack of food, nor is it that we have been noticed. I simply fear both of these things with the growing list of victims Lilitu and myself have slaughtered. I sold some things, and pulled up an old bank account to buy the winnebago we travel in. We plan to head home after two or three weeks, then head out in another direction after a few days rest.
We went West this trip; Lilitu plans to head South next time.
-Picking victims up in the motorhome is much easier then I suspected it would be, on the road. Hitch hikers, abundant and blinded by desperation to take any ride given to them, are so easily drawn into the motorhome. Once inside, of course, they notice the smell. THAT smell. The one I have become so accustomed to, living with Lilitu.
When she emerges to feed, I find myself enjoying the horrified looks on their dirty and tired faces' she billows upwards from every corner of the winnebago, materialising as she did when I first met her, then descending on her prey.
I am beginning to enjoy this...much too much. I am almost frightening myself, when I notice. But I'm noticing less and less, these days. I have seen Lilitu indulge in so many feasts at a stranger's expense that I don't mind anymore. I enjoy it, as I said.
Too much.
-The road is long and quiet. She barely speaks with me, except if I overlook a hitchhiker on the ended stretch of dirt and bitumen. I wonder, is she angry with me? I wonder if I could tell if she was. I wonder if I should care if she was.
-The last victim, three hours ago, was a man.
I had not seen Lilitu fully indulge in anything sexually predatory until now. It is both terrifying and intriguing to see the ways in which she tortured him, before finally drinking his blood.
Again, I find myself fascinated.
~Jiran
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Posted: Sat Jan 16, 2010 9:16 pm
Suddenly, you awaken. You are alone. A look at your clock reveals it is midnight--outside the window, the full moon is dark; a streetlight flickers and dies. You feel eyes on your back, and you realize that someone is in your room. There is a soft mumbling, words unintelligible, monstrous--like an inhuman throat is trying to produce human words. Turning slowly, you see a dark shadow in a corner, rocking itself back and forth. Back and forth.
Any attempt to illuminate the monster is thwarted; the darkness of its corner is impenetrable. Your demon does not answer your calls. When you speak to the figure, it doesn't answer, unless there's a slight alteration in the unintelligible mumbling.
Finally, when you approach the shadow-monster, it vanishes.
There is no trace it was ever there.
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Posted: Thu Feb 11, 2010 5:44 pm
m e t a
It was no uncommon thing for Jiran to awaken during the night, nor was it uncommon for him to jerk awake, as though electrocuted momentarily. This night he awoke, not terribly uncomfortable, and wondering just what sort of nightmare had awoken him. He didn't recall dreaming at all...
12:00
The clock bore an angry, but somewhat dulled set of electric numbers. Jiran rubbed one eye with the back of a bony knuckle, peering at the clock blearily. Giving a soft swear in his native tongue, he rolled onto his back and heaved himself up into a sitting position. The interior of the motorhome was somewhat darker then usual. Jiran reached a hand out to pull the thin curtains on the window beside his bed open, but found his hand only hitting glass. The curtain was wide open.
Still unafraid, however a little confused, Jiran leant over on one elbow to peer outside through the small rectangular window, searching for the moon, or perhaps signs of Lilitu's storm clouds that could be blotting out the celestial body. No lights, no sign of the full moon which he knew was due this night, not even the distant glow of lone houses in the distance. In the gloom he could not tell if it was a storm or not, but found himself shivering as a sudden rush of prickling chills shot up his spine.
Someone was in the room. Were they looking at him? It was much too dark to tell, as he turned to look around the pitch-black interior of the tiny motorhome once again. Jiran's eyes were wide and somewhat afraid, trying to penetrate the darkness in vain.
With a sickeningly horrified feeling, Jiran first heard the low whispering; rasping and croaking as through struggling slightly, no audible words, yet still sounds.
"Wh-who's there?" He choked out, eyes practically bulging in their sockets. "Lilitu-?" Even as he said it, he knew it was not her. Her voice was not singular, but a series of combined female voices. This voice was demonic, but on it's own, likely male, and muttering and growling unintelligibly in the gloom.
Just as his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, he wished they hadn't. At the front of the motorhome, doubled over and sitting between the driver's seat and the passenger's seat, was a figure which was most definitely not Lilitu. Jiran gave a strangled cry, fumbling at his bedside for his flashlight for a moment before he found it and turned it on, quickly casting the beam of light over the figure.
But...nothing. No amount of direct light from the flashlight seemed to do anything, in some sort of odd paradox of light and dark, the figure remained shrouded in shadow.
The muttering continued.
"G-get out of my house-!" Jiran squeaked in his most threatening strangled and panicked voice, though the motorhome was no more of a house then several pieces of wood arranged to form a box-like shape.
All the same, there was no intelligible reply from the figure, only a continued cycle of muttering and rocking back and forth.
"I said," Jiran whimpered, as he dug his hands under his mattress, searching, "Get out!" With some amount of relief, he produced his shotgun from under his bed, and quickly aimed it at the swaying shadowed figure.
He cocked the gun. There was no change in activity from the shadowy form.
Taking a deep breath, in a futile attempt to calm himself, Jiran held the gun steady and raised it, aiming it squarely on the middle of the figure's slowly rising and falling back. Still seated in bed with his skinny, naked legs under his blankets, top half of his torso twisted to face the front of the motorhome, Jiran squeezed the trigger and fired off a single round directly into the muttering monster.
After the sound of the gunshot stopped ringing in his ears, Jiran listened closely. There was no more muttering, but instead the usual sound of crickets singing faintly outside, the sound of far-off traffic, the sound of faint wind beating against the side of the vehicle...and the moonlight had returned, illuminating the interior of the motorhome at last.
The figure was gone.
Jiran would not get back to sleep for another two hours, sweating and trembling in both fear and confusion, laying with his eyes still bulging wildly and staring at the roof. Through the roof. Lilitu remained silent and hidden, though that was nothing out o the ordinary during the nights. Finally, Jiran would fall into a restless sleep, tossing and turning, consumed with confusion and a lingering sense of terror.
Was this the punishment, for summoning a demon? he wondered.
And then it was sunrise.
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Posted: Fri Mar 05, 2010 9:02 pm
You're getting ready for bed; when you walk into the bedroom, you notice something odd about the building about the street. Normally it looks, well, normal, but now there's a shadow on top of it. A humanoid shadow... and a small red dot on your wall.
The dot vanishes as soon as it's noticed, and the shadow does as well.
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