Qui Devorat
Terrarian
PROLOGUE
Out of all plagues in the land,
There is only one
That twists it's hosts into monsters
That kill people for fun.
As time goes by
The affliction will spread.
More and more falling victim to it
Making them seeing red.
This implacable plague
Will destroy a nation
Because it's legend is vague
It might erase civilisation
Before a cure is found.
Through a corpse's antibodies
In a certain burial mound
Chapter 1
We smashed open the door of the palace, wasting no time. The clock was ticking.
The sight that greeted us however, would make any man retch.
The once glamorous hallways, filled with jewellery that no man had ever seen before, the floor laced with a soft red carpet, was now drenched in blood, somewhat glorifying the room in it's image. The kings guard, badasses in their own right and fully capable of doing their job efficiently and effectively, was now adding the extra touch in the room as decor for the chandelier. And in the middle of the room, was the king himself, slumped on his throne. His face had been partially torn away, exposing the damp flesh and a fragmented skull underneath.
Most definitely dead.
As we watch, though, we heard a cracking sound. Like the sound of crushing eggshells. The king's chest began to bulge as if he had been engorged in some mighty meal, then ripped itself open in a burst of blood, spewing shards of broken ribcage and gore. As we gaze on with disturbed eyes, a gnarled and torn hand forces it's way out of the newly-created orifice, clutching a heart. The king's heart.
"Show's over boys! I won the heart of the king!" A woman's voice, boomed through the palace, before disintegrating into maniacal laughter, a hellish siren which spread over the walls and out the windows like the plague she was in control of.
The war was over
We had lost.
"Let's go." I whispered to White and TC. My will sapped, my confidence destroyed. My main concern now was preparing for survival in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
But as we turn away, the being inside the King's chest upheaved itself from his chest cavity, destroying the corpse in a explosion of body fluids which bathed the hall in a new shower of Crimson red. I turn around and I am greeted with the sight of the cut up corpse of the woman that had followed us to the town hall. It was the Great Lady's host. Except she was even more grotesque this time round. Her flesh constantly shifting around underneath her skin, making it undulate wildly. Her stomach was torn open and had been warped into a horrific mouth, intestines flailing around like makeshift tongues. Her legs and elbows had been broken both ways, bits of bone spiking through her flesh, it was a miracle that she still could stand at all. Her face was not any different. Her right eye had been replaced by a couple of slimy tentacles that writhed out of her skull and probed the air. Her mouth now looking less like a mouth and more of a jagged cut, the mutilation gut wrenching in sight.
Malevolence incarnate.
Chapter 2: Anarchy Reigns
The abomination, having been grasped by the delusion that she had won, relaxed and began to hum to herself, as if in a trance. Considering that she was utterly crazy, I didn't take the time to question her catatonia, for we were not really interested in the ramblings of a mad Goddess. We turned to leave, having grown both sick and pissed off from this incursion. As we begin to stride back out to the door, we seemed to notice something.
The blood was alive.
Or it at least seemed to be, boiling and thrashing uncontrollably, like the waves of the sea, tearing itself across the floor and towards the Great Lady herself with the sound of a someone drinking through a straw, absorbing itself into her, vitalising her, replenishing her strength..As we observed, the cut, rotten flesh quickly morphed into smooth, somewhat healthy skin, restoring her to a somewhat normal appearance. The deformations and mutations seemed to have persisted into this form, though. The flesh still crawling and writhing under her skin like a horde of rats in a carpet.
Not really much improvement there.
And as quickly as she had appeared, she collapsed into the blood pool, the sentient mass of liquid flesh scattering and dispersing into every nook and cranny known to this very room. The air, once filled with a grotesque sound of slurping, grew a sickly silence to it.
She was gone.
For now.
The time right at this moment was called for other matters.
But as we pushed the door leading out of the hall open, we realised that the devastation wasn't limited to the throne room. Not one bit.
The city was at war, for the beasts of the Crimson , grotesque unnatural forms that had no place to be in this world, had been unleashed into the streets, ravaging and butchering any who they find. As I gaze down one particular street, a ravenous mound of tissue slithered down the street, leaving a trail of acidic ichor in it's wake. The front section of the beast was a maw surrounded by what appeared to be a cluster of human arms, bent and deformed into a feeding tool, demonstrating their usage through the capture of a fleeing survivor who happened to be unfortunate enough to get too close, deconstructing him quickly into a screaming mess of mutilated meat.
It was our hometown all over again.
Deja Vu.
There was a rumble as one of the city archive buildings imploded, scattering pieces of rock and dust into the streets below.
The screams of the dead, the dying and the Crimsoned were in the air. Filling it with a nightmarish caterwauling.
White mumbled in horror, a shellshocked tone echoing into his voice. "Not again." He whispered. His eyes, lit up with magic, were studying the carnage unfolding with dread.
TC was completely unfocused, having zoned out from the sheer brutality of it all. His eyes unreflecting, for there was nothing watching through them.
Me?
I observed the destruction with a quiet anger. The sheer fact that we had been forced on the edge of oblivion not helping.
Suddenly, there was a blaring sound as the megaphones stationed around the street came to life, broadcasting what sounded like a pre-recorded message, for the megaphone also caught the sound of the recorder snapping on. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the city has been breached and is under attack. All survivors must proceed to the town hall, where they will be checked for signs of infection, and given aid. Repeat: All survivors proceed to the town hall!" Culminating in a high pitched whine as the announcing megaphones deactivated and fell silent once more.
Considering that there was nothing better to do, I informed White and snapped TC out of his shock with a few fingersnaps in his face.
Time to pay a visit to the town hall methinks.
Chapter 3
We made our way through the barren streets, embracing the phrase "out of sight, out of mind" with a passion. Blood ran down the streets. Chaos was everywhere. Bodies lying in the dirt, waiting to be dragged to the centre of the city. Some corpses being risen to bolster the ranks of the contagion even further. Their limbs jerking and convulsing uncontrollably before ripping themselves apart and contorting backwards, into a mocking parody of a spider. Their faces flayed and their mouths widened to impossible lengths as they filled with teeth and let out an unearthly howl, before skittering away with its new affiliates like an obedient guard dog.
The monsters here had almost no perceptive capabilities, one creature only acknowledging our presence after TC split the skull of one in a rage.
Our journey was almost too perfect.
Was this a trap?
But still, no turning back now.
"Steel yourselves. The real hell might just be ahead." I whispered to TC and White.
After pushing a little further the hall was in sight at last.
Out of all plagues in the land,
There is only one
That twists it's hosts into monsters
That kill people for fun.
As time goes by
The affliction will spread.
More and more falling victim to it
Making them seeing red.
This implacable plague
Will destroy a nation
Because it's legend is vague
It might erase civilisation
Before a cure is found.
Through a corpse's antibodies
In a certain burial mound
Chapter 1
We smashed open the door of the palace, wasting no time. The clock was ticking.
The sight that greeted us however, would make any man retch.
The once glamorous hallways, filled with jewellery that no man had ever seen before, the floor laced with a soft red carpet, was now drenched in blood, somewhat glorifying the room in it's image. The kings guard, badasses in their own right and fully capable of doing their job efficiently and effectively, was now adding the extra touch in the room as decor for the chandelier. And in the middle of the room, was the king himself, slumped on his throne. His face had been partially torn away, exposing the damp flesh and a fragmented skull underneath.
Most definitely dead.
As we watch, though, we heard a cracking sound. Like the sound of crushing eggshells. The king's chest began to bulge as if he had been engorged in some mighty meal, then ripped itself open in a burst of blood, spewing shards of broken ribcage and gore. As we gaze on with disturbed eyes, a gnarled and torn hand forces it's way out of the newly-created orifice, clutching a heart. The king's heart.
"Show's over boys! I won the heart of the king!" A woman's voice, boomed through the palace, before disintegrating into maniacal laughter, a hellish siren which spread over the walls and out the windows like the plague she was in control of.
The war was over
We had lost.
"Let's go." I whispered to White and TC. My will sapped, my confidence destroyed. My main concern now was preparing for survival in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
But as we turn away, the being inside the King's chest upheaved itself from his chest cavity, destroying the corpse in a explosion of body fluids which bathed the hall in a new shower of Crimson red. I turn around and I am greeted with the sight of the cut up corpse of the woman that had followed us to the town hall. It was the Great Lady's host. Except she was even more grotesque this time round. Her flesh constantly shifting around underneath her skin, making it undulate wildly. Her stomach was torn open and had been warped into a horrific mouth, intestines flailing around like makeshift tongues. Her legs and elbows had been broken both ways, bits of bone spiking through her flesh, it was a miracle that she still could stand at all. Her face was not any different. Her right eye had been replaced by a couple of slimy tentacles that writhed out of her skull and probed the air. Her mouth now looking less like a mouth and more of a jagged cut, the mutilation gut wrenching in sight.
Malevolence incarnate.
Chapter 2: Anarchy Reigns
The abomination, having been grasped by the delusion that she had won, relaxed and began to hum to herself, as if in a trance. Considering that she was utterly crazy, I didn't take the time to question her catatonia, for we were not really interested in the ramblings of a mad Goddess. We turned to leave, having grown both sick and pissed off from this incursion. As we begin to stride back out to the door, we seemed to notice something.
The blood was alive.
Or it at least seemed to be, boiling and thrashing uncontrollably, like the waves of the sea, tearing itself across the floor and towards the Great Lady herself with the sound of a someone drinking through a straw, absorbing itself into her, vitalising her, replenishing her strength..As we observed, the cut, rotten flesh quickly morphed into smooth, somewhat healthy skin, restoring her to a somewhat normal appearance. The deformations and mutations seemed to have persisted into this form, though. The flesh still crawling and writhing under her skin like a horde of rats in a carpet.
Not really much improvement there.
And as quickly as she had appeared, she collapsed into the blood pool, the sentient mass of liquid flesh scattering and dispersing into every nook and cranny known to this very room. The air, once filled with a grotesque sound of slurping, grew a sickly silence to it.
She was gone.
For now.
The time right at this moment was called for other matters.
But as we pushed the door leading out of the hall open, we realised that the devastation wasn't limited to the throne room. Not one bit.
The city was at war, for the beasts of the Crimson , grotesque unnatural forms that had no place to be in this world, had been unleashed into the streets, ravaging and butchering any who they find. As I gaze down one particular street, a ravenous mound of tissue slithered down the street, leaving a trail of acidic ichor in it's wake. The front section of the beast was a maw surrounded by what appeared to be a cluster of human arms, bent and deformed into a feeding tool, demonstrating their usage through the capture of a fleeing survivor who happened to be unfortunate enough to get too close, deconstructing him quickly into a screaming mess of mutilated meat.
It was our hometown all over again.
Deja Vu.
There was a rumble as one of the city archive buildings imploded, scattering pieces of rock and dust into the streets below.
The screams of the dead, the dying and the Crimsoned were in the air. Filling it with a nightmarish caterwauling.
White mumbled in horror, a shellshocked tone echoing into his voice. "Not again." He whispered. His eyes, lit up with magic, were studying the carnage unfolding with dread.
TC was completely unfocused, having zoned out from the sheer brutality of it all. His eyes unreflecting, for there was nothing watching through them.
Me?
I observed the destruction with a quiet anger. The sheer fact that we had been forced on the edge of oblivion not helping.
Suddenly, there was a blaring sound as the megaphones stationed around the street came to life, broadcasting what sounded like a pre-recorded message, for the megaphone also caught the sound of the recorder snapping on. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the city has been breached and is under attack. All survivors must proceed to the town hall, where they will be checked for signs of infection, and given aid. Repeat: All survivors proceed to the town hall!" Culminating in a high pitched whine as the announcing megaphones deactivated and fell silent once more.
Considering that there was nothing better to do, I informed White and snapped TC out of his shock with a few fingersnaps in his face.
Time to pay a visit to the town hall methinks.
Chapter 3
We made our way through the barren streets, embracing the phrase "out of sight, out of mind" with a passion. Blood ran down the streets. Chaos was everywhere. Bodies lying in the dirt, waiting to be dragged to the centre of the city. Some corpses being risen to bolster the ranks of the contagion even further. Their limbs jerking and convulsing uncontrollably before ripping themselves apart and contorting backwards, into a mocking parody of a spider. Their faces flayed and their mouths widened to impossible lengths as they filled with teeth and let out an unearthly howl, before skittering away with its new affiliates like an obedient guard dog.
The monsters here had almost no perceptive capabilities, one creature only acknowledging our presence after TC split the skull of one in a rage.
Our journey was almost too perfect.
Was this a trap?
But still, no turning back now.
"Steel yourselves. The real hell might just be ahead." I whispered to TC and White.
After pushing a little further the hall was in sight at last.
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that's nightmare inducing!
