Pure darkness used to be a hard thing for him to describe. The closest thing that he ever experienced to being pure darkness was once when he was a child. He was playing a game with his two brothers where they had to find where he was hiding in the house. He always used to hide in a closet in his parent's bedroom. Inside it wasn't totally dark. The door didn't quite touch the floor so light always came in through the bottom. But that time his parent's room was locked and he couldn't hide in there.   So then he decided to hide in the other closet, the one in the kitchen. He had never been inside it but when he closed the door he saw that this door touched the floor and no light came in. To make matters worse, his brothers found him and blocked the door so he couldn't get out.   Trapped inside that closet was the first time he had ever experienced pure darkness. Now Gilles De Rais walked through the unlit halls of the castle, the only light coming from his torch. He reached the castle center and walked up the stairs leading to the library and from there to a secret passage that would take him to the steps of the castle keep where the ritual was about to take place. Up the stairs he went the doors to the flaming keep opened expectantly. Inside he met with his fellow children of darkness, the witch Actrise and a mass of undead warriors all awaiting the beginning of the ritual. Heading the ceremony was none other than Death itself. The castle keep was circular with four main pillars where there would be corners if the room were square shaped. The centerpiece of the room was the raised platform hugging the wall opposite the doors. On the platform lay a large coffin, and on the coffin lay the body of a young woman that he had procured from the local village. She was quite a beautiful woman, a very vibrant brunette. She put up quite a chase, but eventually De Rais ran her down. She wasn't dead…yet. Death muttered a few lines from the Necronomican and raised his reaper to perform the sacrificial rite. The blade severed the head from the body seamlessly. The blood poured from the corpse and enveloped the coffin. The warriors' stared silently and expectantly. Then they all watched as the corpse faded into nothingness and the coffin began to stir. The lid flew off its hinges and onto the floor. They all stared as a blue light shined throughout the keep. A smile formed on Death's so called face as a giant figure rose from the coffin. The blue light dissipated and they awaited commands from their master. The giant figure hovered above the coffin. He was dressed in a long blue gray coat under a blue gray cape with a red in lining. A sash hung from his shoulder to his waist and he wore large and heavy boots. His skin was bluish and wrinkled and his whole face seemed ancient and scarred. But a singular smile swept his face. He then raised his fist and a sudden flame burst from it. Gilles De Rais smiled at the sight of his master alive once more. This was the order that his servants had been awaiting. The signal had been given. It was time.