Thread: Empire - City of Magic (Black_Out and darkest_fate)

Her black leather boots tramped across the unhinged green metal door that was buried beneath dirt and debris before the rubble strewn entrance of the hallway. It was an awkward effort to clamber around the wreckage that had given way from the ceiling and obscured entry into the narrow tunnel beyond. The muffled pleas had drawn quiet, leaving Zatanna to hear only the thudding slaps of the mans hand busily attending to his wanton needs. His bleary eyes stared forward without a hint of notice given towards her invisible yet hasty and noisy efforts to gain entry into the pitch darkness of the hallway. Fortunately she was lithe and limber, and the young magicians body found it easier to slip through the void in the rubble, until she tumbled down the other side as the loose rocks shifted beneath her and she was deposited on her rear within the darkness. Her sight though pierced the veil of ever present shadow and saw that the tunnel was short in length. A room opened up, devoid of any remnants that might of hinted to it's past purpose, but staring back upon her from the center of the wall furthest into the room was all she needed to see to confirm her every suspicion that the mysterious cult had been at work here. The circular shape of a field of black had been painted upon the center of the wall, while a pair of stark white horns rose up from the middle of that abysmal pit and curled outwards above it. The mark of the Cult of Horns dominated the other precise sharp sigils that curled in ancient patterns of magical power around the walls. At a glance the sense of their purpose seemed to be to anchor, tether, and nurture the malignant energies that resided here. Way lines covered the decaying roof of stone supported by heavy wooden slats that were obviously well beyond strained by the efforts to keep it all from crashing down. An array of unlit candles littered the floor, much like the dark red one she witnessed in the possession of the drug addict out in the tunnel. Though it didn't take long for her to realize they were precisely placed upon the tips and intersections of crimson hued lines that drew a pentagram across the floor. The candles all jumped to life, bleeding weary light out that quickly lost it's potency the further it shed from it's source. She could see figures, huddled in the shadows that existed on the fringe of the candle light. Womanly forms, cuffed together wrists drawn behind their bared backs. Their dusky skin was littered with bruises, their ankles shackled and chained to the floor and the dirty tangles of their hair hid their beleaguered faces from view. That's when a force erupted from behind her, shoved her in the square of her back and drove her to her knees towards one of the corners. The face of that paled skin victim turned to regard her, and it was obvious to Zatanna in that moment that it was the specter of some unfortunate soul that had perished here under duress. Her jawline stretched so wide open that it gave the illusion that her face was melting towards the floor as her ghastly moan issued towards the raven haired young heroine that had been shoved to land beside her. Her bleach white hair whipped wildly about within the windless room as her ashen eyes locked onto Zatanna's and she could feel the presence of the specter before her trying to seep into her consciousness. Brief images danced and flashed through the surface of the heroines thoughts, giving her sight into the events that led to the demise of this trapped spirit. Except in the visions that blurred into her mind, it was Zatanna who was the victim of these horrid acts. Kidnapped by ambush while walking alone upon a dark path. Forced to breath in some noxious fume that sedated her body. Taken here, to this room, and chained, gagged, bound, all before being violated by a figure she could only discern as darkness incarnate.