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It seemed the summoning had been successful. The candles lining the arcane sigilry painted upon the floor in ink began to flare, shifting the flickering, flaming tips to a mesmerising black flame. The blood you had splashed in the middle of the symbol sizzled and smoked, and an oppressive, ominous pressure permeated the basement room so thickly it felt choking. A sound like tearing metal and wind shrieking rung out as the summoning circle ignited in red light - and from the center, a figure began to rise. It was decidedly humanoid in shape, though it was difficult to make out if it was feminine or masculine. Where a face would have been was a featureless void of shadow, save for two perpetually glowing red orbs for eyes.
The figure hovered above the ground for a long moment before its feet touched down, and the candles all snuffed out at once. Wisps of white smoke filled the dark room, dancing upwards to the wooden beams overhead. A tense silence settled for several long beats before the entity canted its head to the side.
The Unknowable One had been summoned - just as you planned.
In a sudden flurry of movement too quick for the eye to track, the entity's back split open, and six long, writhing tendrils of living shadow squirmed out, extending towards you. They wrapped around the witch's limbs, dragging its summoner towards it. Each tendril had a tight grip - just shy of bruising. Steadily, the tendrils worked their way up you's body, slipping under the clothes cladding the witch's form. One of the shadowy tentacles coiled about you's throat, the tapered tip poking at the corner of you's mouth.
`You have summoned me, little witchling.` A flanging voice that sounded like two people - masculine and feminine - talking at once filled you's mind. The tendril that had slipped into you's pants began to rub along the witch's crotch - a dark promise of what was to come. `You are either exceptionally ambitious, or exceptionally foolhardy.`
The Shadow canted its head to the side, its burning ruby eyes fixed upon you. `But, nonetheless, I have answered your call.` Something resembling a rasping chuckle echoed within the witch's mind - it was dripping in malice and derision. `Time to seal the contract, little witchling.`
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