Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20161215224118/@comment-1734134-20170318012237

The Daemon folds into itself, a fissure in reality opening, the shape bursting into fragments that are dragged screaming into the abyss. It's agonised screeching fills the ears of all present, gaining force, growing louder. Books fall from the shelves and the room shakes, a furious wind striking the windows of the observation deck and causing them to shatter as the other entities that drift and heckle you melt away into a crimson mist. Now it is visible to all, the sight causing eyes to bleed as it gathers in a cloud of crimson above you.

Something warm hits your face, and you find that hot blood is now raining down from the sky. It pelts against the ground and soon everything and everyone in the room is coated in a thick, warm, red syrupy, frothing mixture of blood and gore that pools at your feet. The screeching wind continues unbelted, the image of the Captain's face transforming into a scowling visage, horned, toothy and grinning at all of you.