Author's Note: This is incredibly inspired by Cult of the Lamb and Priest!Saltbaker by @surinnitthesecond on top of the handsome prince/shadow noodle that is Snatcher. I literally just thought up of this at the end of my shift at work, so I am not wasting any time and just going for it! Also, the reader will be referred to as “you/your/you're” - no gender identity is specified.
@tiramegtoons @lulu-baked-beans @medys-space @hotpinkboots @darkmedolie @lemonbaloni and everyone else who wants to read it!
Content Includes: Religious Cults (duh), Body Horror, “Satanic” Rituals (demonic but fictional, not based on real beliefs), Suggestiveness, Manipulation, and Reader Death
---
Your leader was badly injured, more so than you've ever seen before.
The entire community rushed to his aid. The ones who specialized in medicine wasted no time in patching up his wounds. You followed the healers in the hopes that he would recover without any trouble. As a loyal Subconite, you loved your leader. You trusted him with your life, and how could you not? He was the one who saved you from a meaningless existence, after all. You watched expectantly – worriedly – as he was laid across the makeshift mattress, wincing from the bruises and bloodstained cuts all over his body. To think, your leader journeyed his way through the Subcon Forest, slaying heretics and naysayers, all for you and your brethren.
If only there was something you could do to show him your unconditional gratitude.
You went over to a nearby table pour water into a clay cup. Surely, he must have been thirsty after all of that purging. As you were bringing the cup to your leader, you could not help but notice that he was watching you. It was as if King Midas himself touched his eyes, for they were shining gold. They gleamed underneath ragged, darkened bangs – a deep purple, almost ebony in color. You knew the sermons well: the leader was one of shadow. A mortal vessel brought back to life to spread the word of He Who Snatches. With this immense power, he guides his people into brotherhood, into glory, into salvation. Your leader was blessed. You hoped one day you will be blessed too.
“Thank you...” your leader spoke, his voice strained from pain. Delicately, you helped him raise the cup to his lips. He swallows the water greedily, gasping with every gulp. His thirst quenched, he laid back down. “Thank you...” he said again, breathing heavily, “These wounds... they will heal, but not as much as before. In fact... it is time...” You looked at him with anticipation; what exactly did he mean? “It is time to perform a sacred ritual. One that shall further our cause. Please, my kind friend... Tell the others. We shall gather within the temple at midnight.” You immediately obliged, leaving the shack to alert the community. Soon, everyone was in a frenzied commotion. Cries of the spiritual and devoted filled the air like birds chirping in the wind. Their daily chores became social activities where Subconites joyfully congregated. This lasted for the rest of the waning hours of daytime. Before you knew it, it was time.
You were the first to enter the temple with the rest following behind. There before the rows of benches and behind the skull-adorned podium was the leader. He held himself up by the podium – his injuries were still causing him pain. But his expression showed no weakness, only strength. Strength for his Subconites and for He Who Snatches. As everyone went to their seats, you awaited his latest sermon and his announcement of this ritual. Thoughts flooded your mind. You had no clue as to what ritual, or which ritual, your leader was speaking about earlier ago. But whatever it may be, in the end, you trusted him. You trusted him with your whole life. With a wave of his hands, raising them high above his head, he began his holy speech:
“My dear friends, Subconites of the Forest! It is with great pleasure to tell you all that the heretics – the fools who honor The Witch of Fire and Ice – are no more! Once again we are victorious, and soon we will rise against Her in the name of He Who Snatches! However, the path to triumph is no easy task. As you can all see, I am... physically weakened. I am powerful still, but not for long. In order to continue our fight against The Witch of Fire and Ice, we must commence a sacred ritual. A ritual to appease He Who Snatches and offer the ultimate trade. For my strength as His divine vessel... a soul must be snatched. One of you will be sacrificed, but this is a sacrifice of highest honor. For some of you all, I understand your trepidation – after all, death is mostly permanent. But with death comes a much greater purpose! More so than dedicating our lives and community in worship! Your soul will be one of many that is to come. In fact, this is not a time of mourning! This is a celebratory moment! We should be joyous of whoever shall be the sacrifice! Our souls are what pleases His Holiness; through me, we will all become one with Him. Through me, we are all His Strength.”
With slight struggle, the passionate leader went from his podium to walk among his followers. Everyone patiently watched as he approached them all, exuding an air of kindness. One by one, each Subconite was acknowledged, reassured by his empathetic presence. Some graciously bowed, some kissed his hand in appreciation. Your leader then walked up to you with those beautiful golden eyes. Immediately as you gazed upon his eyes, they shone with interest. A look as if he had found the answer to all his problems. Your heart skipped a beat. Warmth began to rise within your cheeks. With a dramatic flip of his cape, your leader pointed at you with a smile you knew all too well. “You! You, my friend, will be His soul to take!” he exclaimed with feverish rapture, “Come! Come! Let us all gather within the center of the temple! Let the ritual begin!”
You could not believe it. You of all Subconites! Chosen by His vessel as his sacrifice! Oh, what a night – what a joyous night! Your heart raced with such vigor, you thought you were about to faint in your leader's arms. But you did not; no, you didn't! You were awake still. You were not dreaming. You were holding hands with your beloved leader and everyone cheered for you! They cheered for your sacrifice! Instead of death, your mind was filled with thoughts of him. Only him.
And you were going to spend the rest of your life with him.
The candles were lit. The circle was drawn in blood. Hooded Subconites gathered around you and your leader. Strange, alien words echoed throughout the darkened temple, chanting to the beat of a small drum. Your hand still holding his, you marveled at this ritual. You could not be any more happier. “My friend...” your leader whispered to you, “Thank you for offering me water earlier ago. I appreciate it. In fact... Thank you for everything. For being here with me. I promise that your kindness will never be forgotten.” You smiled, tears flowing from your eyes. The chanting continued as your leader raised an ornate dagger from his holster, a sacrificial tool of fine steel and gold. He gently pulls you towards him, making you turn his back towards him. He presses himself against you. You could feel his rising and falling of his chest against your back. You jolt in surprise as he wrapped an arm around your waist, caressing your hip and stomach with a tenderness you never felt before. This closeness between you two was electrifying! Then the cold, steel blade touched your neck, ready for the kill. Subconsciously, as if by nature, you tilted your head back, letting out a comforted sigh. Soon, you and your leader's hearts and breathing were in sync with each other.
“Oh, Great Snatcher! We call to thee!
This soul is yours; soon it will be me!
Come to us and hear our plea!
Come to us and set us free!”
The cut was quick and clean. Your throat, now severed, bled profusely, leaving behind a crimson puddle below. A hand grabbed onto your hair, pulling your head even further, splitting the wound further apart, leaving you gasping and choking. Not that you were going to protest. As your knees buckled, your leader held on to your dying body and clasped his lips against your throat. The pain – oh, the pain – it was exquisite! In life, this was the closest thing to a kiss. As the circle glowed with dark magic and immersed your brethren into a spiritual frenzy, your flesh began to shrink and decay as your leader, your friend, consumed your soul bit by bit.
