Wrath of the Lich Queen

The Ritual and the Slaughter

Months went by since Alice had come to Coldharbour, and in that time, she had practiced Necromancy with the help of Molag Bal. She had even become proficient in the art of torture... and not just by using the Cruciatus Curse, but by physically torturing prisoners. It was very therapeutic for her to unleash years of pent up rage on those prisoners, and after awhile, she had felt like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Now, she was in the Vile Laboratory, pouring over the notes of the Lichdom Ritual, wearing Ancient Elf Robes with her hood down. The diary stated that souls and a Phylactery were needed, and that the ascension was very painful to endure... but then again, Alice had suffered pain beyond description in the past. She was fairly certain that the ascension process wouldn't be nearly as bad as nearly dying from being bitten by a Basilisk. She shuddered at the memory of only facing the big-ass snake with a magical talking hat, and a sword.

The diary also stated that while an object of evil was okay to use, but using a good-aligned artifact produced even better results, and that the more powerful the Phylactery, the purer the ascension would be. Coincidentally, Alice had the Amulet of Kings, which was, not only a good-aligned artifact, but also forged from the blood of a God. Therefore, the Amulet of Kings made for the perfect soul jar. She could barely contain her gleeful squeals at the thought of possessing godlike strength. She very much looked forward to the slaughter of those who've wronged her. It would be a glorious bloodbath! The irony was that the Amulet of Kings was crafted by the Ayleids, and to the Ayleids it would return.

As she studiously read the diary, she failed to notice Molag entering the room. "And how is your research going, my dear?" He asked, startling the girl.

She quickly spun around with a mad grin on her face. "Everything's progressing accordingly. I've already made progress with creating a Flesh Atronach and a Bone Colossus." She replied, gesturing towards a giant golem made of flesh and another golem made of bones. "Considering they're the first things I've ever created, I consider them my personal children. The Flesh Atronach, I call Ben, and the Bone Colossus, I call Ryan." She continued, cackling like the mad scientist Molag knew her to be.

The Daedric Prince in question shook his head in amusement. "Are you ready for the ritual?" He asked.

"Oh Oblivion yes! I'm getting wet just thinking about it! It's like I'm riding a high on an orgasm! I'm giddy with anticipation!" Alice giggled.

"Then let us proceed. You will need plenty of souls to fuel the ritual, and I know where we can get them." Molag assured.

"And where exactly are we off to, dearest?" Alice asked, sounding like an excited child. Divines help the world if Alison Potter ever met Bellatrix Lestrange. Molag didn't think the universe could handle that amount of madness and psychopathy.

"Why, where else than the place you've spent years of torment in? Those fools sat idle by while you were being abused. It's only fitting that if they're not going to be useful in life, they may as well be useful in death." Molag replied, earning an excited giggle from the beautiful Ayleid teen. Her emerald eyes gleamed with madness and sadism.

"Oh, can I play with Petunia and Vernon?" Alice asked with a grin which was shared by the Lord of Brutality.

"Certainly, my dear. I often find myself wondering how they've been coping without their precious son." Molag consented with a dark chuckle, Alice giggled right beside him before disappearing through a portal.

They had reappeared in the middle of the day where everyone was out and about. It was perfect. Molag grew to his full height to gain everyone's attention. "Mortals of Little Whinging. I am Molag Bal; Daedric Prince of Corruption, God of Schemes and Brutality, and Harvester of Souls. I come before you now to put an end to your failed and useless lives. But before we get to the fun part, allow me to bring to light the injustice that you've allowed to happen.