Spirits of a Bygone Age

As the cold air of the midnight breeze swept through the creaking wooden boards of the dilapidated building, the sounds of dust kicking up into the air audible to only the present cultists wandering about the room. Two humans dressed in a thin garment of red silk, the cloak covering their bodies obscuring their defining features as black cloaked individuals continued to kneel before them. The leader of this band of misfits, the mother of mists herself Komashitsu was not part of this ritual. She lay silent, dormant in slumber atop a great pillar in the center of the antechamber. Ruined through in pain and recovery from her recent bout with the millionaire named Tunic Baskerville and her seemingly Saiyan friend, the woman was rested in the fetal position among a grouping of large button-style pillows. The platform supporting her held against the walls through great rusted chains suspending it atop the pillar.
Below, as the cultists prayed to the woman above, or seeming to do so, the two standing guard over the rest rose to the stand to stare up at the platform. Arms raised high above their heads and with anxious love in their hearts, these most devout of her followers were ready to start their ceremony. They were a most secretive sect of the cult, truly believing in the godlike status of their revered one, and thus practiced unheard of arts of sacrifice.

"Oh great spirits of the past, those who serve our glorious mother. Come forth, and accept this humble offering of your most loyal disciples." The man between the two spoke, motioning for the cultists standing idle to the side to wheel in a cart concealed just off to the side of the alter. As it would come into view of the most, the disturbing contents of the cart would be visible to all, and disgust would reign through the prayers. A decomposing corpse of some unidentifiable animal, it's bone and muscular structure visible through the viscera. Yet, as they moved it to the pillar's edge, something peculiar began to happen. "Please, enjoy and bless us with your presence so that we may revere you once more."

The platform supporting Komashitsu, as well as the area surrounding it, would flash a bright pink color. The smog of the Hutong crept from her person in a concentrated flow, the energy channeling down the pillar walls and towards the floor where the cart lay. As it moved, so did the shapes within the mist, and that which came out was something neither Kimono nor Komashitsu had the pleasure of encountering properly.
First came the Hutong Wyrm, something Kimono was all too familiar with. It's thin hiss pre-emitting from it's visage accompanied only by the more defined form of the creature. Next, came three spider-like machinations of the mist, each just as translucent and hutong, yet oddly they moved about on their own. Separate. Individual. As they culminated to the sight of the body, the spiderlings reeled back in disgust themselves, while the Wyrm dug into the flesh immediately. Ripping and tearing at the meat with vicious intent until nothing was left but bones and sprayed blood splatter.

"Ugh" the ethereal voice of the largest of the spiderlings would echo through the mist, it's little jaws twitching against the floor as it sipped at the blood. "You definitely didn't bring anything fresh..." This being would be swatted at by the wyrm out of annoyance, it's eye turning. "As if you got to speak on any matters Tsuchigumo. You lot eat nothing but souls. Leave the fresh kills to me!" The bickering between the two only stopped by the voice of the female head cultist bowing to the group of Hutong monsters.
"Oh great entities of the void, we praise your existence. Bless us with many great fortunes and victories in our future endeavors."
"Uh, yeah, sure kid." The spider would say, raising one of her little feet aloft at the cultist, poking the human on the cloak where her head would be. The cultist, blessed with excitement, would rise and shuffle away ecstatic while the others began their quiet prayers, leaving the monsters to speak to each other. "Tsuchinoko, what about you finds this level of reverance appealing? These humans are acting like we are some kind of... deity I guess." Tsuchigumo the spider would request to the snake known as Tsuchinoko. The creatures thought about it for a moment in utter silence, before one of the other spiders spoke. "Well, I Jorogumo, enjoy the praise. It's nice when the lessers remember us ancestor spirits."
Groans across the monsters from Jorogumo's voice would annoy the smallest spider who would raise her forelegs in an aggressive manner. "Shut up guys! I'm just as important as you older spirits. It's not my fault I died later than the rest of you!"