Ad Finitum
Eight feathers left, their multichromatic lustre slowly turning ashen grey. A feather falls, drifting away on unseen winds. The flesh hound runs not from the crimson corpse mounds crumbling into nothingness…
Flashpoint
Time and blood. And blood. And blood again. Anathema to mortals, time is my ontogenesis. In the Immaterium, I manifest on the edge of a bronze knife, in an age…
The Fat Cook
Cook’s journal, day 1:I am proud to have been chosen by Lead Explorer J. Y. Causton to serve as cook for the 60-day exploration of the old submerged mine works…
A Beginning
It's Getting Pretty Grimdark In Here... The following story includes graphic, pregnancy-related body horror, which some readers may find disturbing. Reader discretion is advised. × Dismiss alert Indriss Voss dragged…