Chapter 9
Eldritch Corruption: Human
https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857010/chapters/52812334
A world of shadow begets ever more darkness, the clutching
fingers of night and doom never resting in their quest to squeeze every
last drop of hope and resistance from those that lingered in it. The
damned clawed their own eyes from their skulls in the deepest, most
desperate desire to escape it, and yet it still seeped into their minds,
their hearts… their very souls.
It twisted them all, flesh and blood and bone, and still there
was no relief, naught but the release of death the promise to end the
madness.
It ate them all to damnation, and cared not.
Yet in the most encompassing dark, there was light, bright as flame, guiding and true.
It came in the most unexpected of ways and forms, so fragile
that a breeze disturbed it… a mere insect, graceful and fleeting. It
rode the winds that reeked with disease and the end of all, above
reproach and corruption like none else in the world.
It carried on with single-minded purpose, knowing of things no
mere bug ever could, moving the most reluctant and unsure to action and
greatness. It stood in the path of destruction despite the pain it would
suffer, and knew no fear.
It had the bearing of one now passed, an angel and a savior, and could tell none of the truth of it.
It mattered not. Anonymity had been her way in life; it suited
the butterfly just fine to toil in silence and unrecognized deference.
There were more things at stake than ego. There was the universe to
save, numberless souls to redeem… an innocent’s way to guide.
And so the insect carried on, the only light within a world of nightmares and eternal night, come whatever end.
She would go to her end when her work was done, and not a moment before.
Chapter 10
Eldritch Corruption: Animal
https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857010/chapters/52987039
They say that love, above all else, will conquer.
They say that if one cleaves to their partner, they shall not want.
They say that true love never dies.
They.
What do they know.
The branches of the forest, in their eternal storm of disquiet
and frozen torture, creaked and moaned in the darkness, the shadow of
what the monsters called night. The rushing of a river in the distance
tore into whatever restfulness the eve may have held with razor-sharp
fangs, pitiless and cruel as the creature astride it, and the shattering
of a tree, dead and frozen to its core, rattled the remaining peace any
mind present could dream to have.
The padded feet of a shadow darting through the trees, so light
it barely made dents in the drifts of snow, made no such noise. The
cloak the shadow clutched to it, pitch and blacker yet than the fallen
night, rustled no more loudly than a single leaf caught in a light
breeze. Its breath was muffled, cowled and hidden, and left no mark on
the frigid air.
It left no mark of its passing but for the gleam of steel, and the glow of madness in a single, intelligent eye.
No, it left no trace, made not a single sound, and for good
reason; the shadow was not the only beast that prowled the night, that
clawed for position as an apex predator, and there were others, bigger,
stronger, smarter others, that would gladly end it.
That was not allowed. The shadow would not fall, not now, not ever.
*Not now, my love. Not ever.*
The shadow let out the quietest of huffs, falling still and
silent in the shade of a great, ancient pine. Another beast moved in the
darkness of the midnight forest, stalking the edge of the path only a
few yards away… it sniffed both hopefully and hungrily along the flags,
in search of a trail.
The bandage around its missing eyes was clear, even in the dim
light… the rags it wore over its heaving, pustule studded back and the
spiked collar around its neck clearer.
They had been friends, once, long ago. Long before the angel and
the end times. They had grown up together, they and he. Gone to the
same school, had the same aspirations.
No longer. Not since the growling in their belly, not since the breaking of their heart.
*Not broken anymore, my soul. Never again.*
The shadow watched the remains of their old compatriot drag
himself away down the path, a trail of bloody paw prints in his wake,
and suppressed the hunger that badgered its mind. It was foolish to pick
a fight with him, just over food.
They would have their battle one day, but not this one.
The shadow turned on their heel the moment the hideous dog
monster shuffled out of sight and earshot, dodging across the path and
into safer territory. There was good meat here, while the deer slept.
Little monsters, fast but stupid. They fell for the trap every day,
after all… only idiots would.
*Only idiots, my pet. And we’re not idiots, no.*
Most of them would be asleep now, in their little blood-soaked
warrens, in their nests made of bones. Easy to find, just by the smell
of them, and always close to the ground. Taking to the trees was no
safer, after all… above belonged to Gyftrot.
All it took was the lightest of feet-
*Easy and careful, watch the twigs…*
The deftest of hands-
*Too fast, my love, too fast, they will hear…*
The surest of sight-
*You have them now, just a little more…*
Before one of their skinny necks was in their clutches,
squealing and scaring away the rest but it was too late, too late for
their puny claws, little knives but theirs were mighty and sharp, sharp
as the blades on their backs and just as vengeful, all there was was the
need to feed, feed them both and keep the madness at bay, the madness
that ate at the magic in their veins and twisted their spine and
narrowed their vision, but it was sharp, so sharp, as sharp as the
blades on their backs-
The tear of the flesh and the rip of the tendons, rich meat on
the tongue; the shatter of bones and the misery on the air, music to
their ears and torture, torture, it was too near and close and the blood
ran down their maw and stained their paws, white become red, red, red
redredred-
Dogamy-
What had she done-
*Hush, my darling. It had to be done, to save us both. Now, we are together.*
The shadow, shaking and whimpering, tail tucked between their
legs, nodded slowly, the whining, cringing meal in their claws ignored.
The snow at their feet was stained red, crimson with gore and
consequence and memory, their scarred, disfigured face, revealed in
their gorging, just as marked.
A single tear, black as pitch and the night and the cloak he had
once worn, ran down from the reddened, staring eye in the center of
their face, lidded and stricken.
(“Together…”), the shadow murmured, serrated fangs parting to
break the frigid air with a voice unused to speaking, and smiled
brightly into the thin air, tail gaining the air and wagging back and
forth in earnest.
*Always.*