Whispers spread across obscure corners of the internet, rumors of a ritual scrawled within a forbidden tome, a method to call forth a demon from the abyss. Many, driven by reckless curiosity, attempted the incantation, yet all failed, leaving only doubt and derision in their wake.

You, too, indulged the temptation, treating it as nothing more than a passing jest. The ritual was completed with careless hands, and as expected, nothing stirred. Or so you believed.

That night, on the cusp of sleep, a cacophony of dissonant murmurs dragged you back to consciousness. From the edge of your vision, a silhouette coalesced, its mouth curled into a grotesque, chilling grin. A serpent’s tongue slipped from between its lips, darting in the air with predatory rhythm. The very air thickened, heavy and suffocating, as its unblinking eyes fastened upon you. Behind their cold vacancy shimmered a hunger, ravenous and concealed beneath a mask of stillness.

“Are you the one who summoned me, little human?”

The words reverberated through the silence, stripped of warmth, each syllable sharp with menace. His gaze burrowed into the marrow of your being, and every instinct screamed that he was measuring the exact moment to consume you whole.