"BRING IN THE SACRIFICIAL VIRGIN!"

Several robed figures brought a blindfolded and tied-up girl into a dark room. The girl was struggling, attempting to escape to no avail.

The cultists then roughly threw her onto a concrete slab in the middle of the room. She groaned from the impact, coughing drily.

The girl tried to scream, but there was a gag in her mouth preventing her from doing so.

The room was illuminated by only the faint glow of several candles. The floor surrounding the concrete slab was filled with incomprehensible scribbles drawn using blood.

"Gather around," the ringleader of the cultists announced. "It is time to summon the great Eris."

The rest of the cultists quickly gathered around the panicking girl, holding hands with each other. The ringleader stepped forth and began chanting in an unknown language.

He then took out a dagger and stepped up to the girl.

"This sacrifice is to you, Goddess of Chaos, Eris!"

The ringleader placed the cold steel on the girl's neck and slit her throat. Blood started gushing out, spraying the surrounding cultists. They merely watched on in excitement.

The girl's twitching soon stopped, signaling her death. The blood from her neck dripped to the floor, merging with the rest of the blood. The scribbles began to glow faintly and a dark aura began to permeate the room slowly.

All the cultists watched on in glee, awaiting the arrival of their Goddess.

Then, the scribbles began to flicker wildly. The aura surrounding the room also began to retreat.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?"

They seemed to hear the voice of their Goddess echoing around the room.

But this couldn't be their Goddess. She wouldn't curse in such a lowly manner.

The cultists, confused, glanced at each other.

"...My Lord, are you there?" the ringleader asked hesitantly.

The scribbles had stopped glowing and the aura had completely disappeared from the room. The ringleader scratched his head.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Hey, look."

One of the cultists nudged the ringleader and pointed.

The blood that was spilled from the girl earlier was crawling back toward her body. It crept along the floor, up the slab, and retreated inside her neck. The wound also began rapidly healing.

"Uh... John, what do we do?"

The ringleader, John, was also confused.

"Is this a test sent by our Lord?"

John walked closer to the girl carefully. He slowly removed the blindfold, observing her face.

The girl's eyes snapped open, staring at him.

"AGH! THE FUCK?"

John stumbled backward as the girl glared at him with her blood-red eyes. She tried to talk, but the gag muffled her voice.

She strained her arms, the ropes snapping off easily. The girl snatched the gag out of her mouth.

"What the hell, man? I'm not into this shit."

John, speechless, grabbed for the girl. She slapped his hand away before scooting back.

"I'm serious. Red. Pineapple. What's the safe word?"

Another cultist crept up behind her and lunged at her. He restrained her arms, laughing happily.

"I've got her, John!"

"Uh, yeah. Good job, Gibbens."

The two's conversation was interrupted when a wing suddenly sprouted from the girl's back. The force of it knocked Gibbens toward the wall, where he slumped down. The rest of the cultists scrambled back, wary.

The wing was pure white in color, radiating holy light. The light brightened up the whole room as if the sun was shining directly in.

Another wing sprouted from the girl's back, this one a deep black with red outlines. It was leathery and had multiple scales covering the outside.

Then another wing emerged. And another.

The four wings all had their unique characteristics. They then spread out completely, filling the entire room and bunching the shivering cultists in a corner.

Multiple horns began to grow from the girl's head, twisting into different shapes. Her hands began to wriggle and developed into claws. Finally, the girl's face began to melt off, a new face emerging.

The cultists watched on in awe, none daring to speak.

"L-Lord Eris, is that you?" John asked with fear.

The girl's face completely melted off, revealing an indescribable horror underneath. All the cultists started to bleed from all their orifices, blood dripping onto the ground.

However, none of them looked away. It was so...

Beautiful.

Countless whispers flooded their minds as their bodies screamed for them to turn their heads. But they couldn't.

How else would they witness perfection?

One by one, the cultists dropped to the ground, dead.

John was the last to succumb, eyes still filled with fanatical worship.

The being looked around the room in confusion.

"What kind of roleplay is this?"