March 2020

That's a (relatively) good thing^^ I was thinking of donating food here, like in the last blog, to stave off the hunger further. Any particular wishes?

“anything that didn’t use to have a face. …maybe something healthy a growing kid should have. in the end… it won’t really matter, though. the hunger never leaves, even when we have enough to go around. its the nature of the thing, i ‘spose.”

Chapter 7

A Glitch in Reality

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857010/chapters/49801586 

Eat.

     Or be eaten.

             Consume.

                   Or be lost.

                         Devour.

                                   Rend.

                                         Conquer.

 HuNGer…

 …and never be filled.

 Far beyond where any monster dare trod, beyond ancient walls strung with vines as thick as school buses and the fallen monument to a once great king… beyond a city awash with flame and blood and agony, a crime against nature, space, and time dwelt.

 A tear in the very fabric of the world, created from foolishness and damning them all.

 It was nothing and everything, deep as the reaches of the universe and blacker all at once; it hung in the air as a spectre, unmoving, unchanging, and likewise unable to be moved…

 Unable to be changed.

 In the fell silence of the Barrier Room, where once the souls of humanity resided and the hope of monsterkind fell to fate, the shredded hole belched forth a sinister fog, spilling across the stone floor and out the doorway leading into the caverns beyond.

 Darkness, pitch as night and thrice as cold, breathing like a living thing, deep, cloying exhalations of poisonous fume… inhaling all that had once been pure and good, and spewing them back out in ruin.

 Shadow consumed, burned and scorched, destroying all in its path, regardless of innocence or youth.

 Eternal, shivering blackness, timeless and unseeing, twisting and writhing like a mist, the throes of death in its winding coils.

 It had no name. It was void of it, shapeless, formless, unknown to the living and bane to the dead. All feared the slow creeping of it, at the corners of their eyes…. All felt it, pulling at their minds.

 It had no qualms, no sentience and no grudge; it did only as it existed to.

 It spread. It devoured. It enraptured…

 And it never ceased.

 The mists permeated all, stone, flower, water, and mind… souring magic and stealing morality, breeding a disease that could not be resisted and had no cure. It gushed from its victims in rivers of blackened misery, turning souls to stone and stomachs to machines, no food or drink consumed enough to satiate the unbearable hunger that dwelt within.

 It twisted and deformed, giving new meaning to the word monster… and stole all that the creatures under the mountain had left.

 It would curse them to ruin, and never know it.