The drop hit like an abyss's stolen kiss—shadows twisting my gut, world fading in one ragged breath. No smash of pain, just bone-deep chill, winter gutting autumn's fire. Thud. Breath gone. Wrapped in void.
Where the hell was I? Not the alley. Air thick, sour damp like beast-breath. Blinked. Choked. Jungle? Nah—twisted black stone spires, quartz-veined like petrified titans, lost in mourning mist. Ground: ebony sand, sly grip on palms, whispering crunch under fingers. Steps sink, hope's soft grave.
"Fuck... No dream." Voice dies in shadow-echo. No birds. No sun. Scratches far off, growls humming mist-violence. Heart drums war. Fear chews—jealous lover's chokehold. Flashes: birthday laughs, rain-asphalt scent. Gone.
Up, wobble. Legs reed-shake storm. Move. Survive. To what? Living crypt, agony's verse, fangs in every shade. Crawl pillars, dodge claw-air stone-roots. Feast starts.
Shrill slice-cry. Wet snap. Smothered yelp. Hunch monolith, gasp-peek. Clearing black-sand: cursed fauna's death-dance. Base: Sand-Claws—cat-sized crawlers, obsidian-shell gleam, scissor-mandibles snap-hungry. Swarm carcass-fight, cannibal-rush—weakest sister-chomped, black-blood ink-spill cycle.
Not solo. Heights-dive: Veil-Echo—bat-giant, night-vein wings, click-echo hunts. Swoop fang-flap storm, snatch Sand-Claw scream-blood-ice. Flee-burrow survivors. Lurker: Stone-Jaws—dog-mass beetles, basalt-crush jaws. Crevice-burst, gulp wounded Echo snap. Feast symphony—torn-flesh tune, none safe.
Gag-rise. Hunger betrays. Prey-time? Hours? Sunless lie. Crawl. Dodge nest: Sand-Claws worm-war—**Shadow-Larva**, pale-jelly bait, chain-top chow.
Stomach traitor-growl. Water? Grub? Any.
"Thicker-black" falls—pillars cold-phosphor glow. Trip wounded Claw, lone-scratch sand. Pearl-eyes accuse. Mercy-challenge? Hunger claims. Rock-bash clumsy-blood. Tear-shell tears-sting. Flesh goo-bitter regret-ash-iron. Chew. Bile-swallow. "Sorry, horror. You/me."
Black-juice throat-fire. Dark-bliss kiss-forbidden. Mind-etch cold-merciless:
[Voracious Unlocked – Lv. 1]
Absorption: +5% STR (temp). Hunger summons power. Devour. Survive.
Shake-heat chase-chill. Muscles sharp—inner-beast stir. Joy-fleeting. Ground-rumble. Stone-Jaw blood-call. Jaw-clack mist-loom shadow-mass.
Run, Arthur. Or devour.
The adrenaline from that first kill— that wretched, necessary act—surged through me like liquid fire, but it was short-lived. The Stone-Jaw's rumble grew louder, a seismic promise of obliteration that vibrated up through the sand, making the obsidian pillars hum like tuning forks struck by some forgotten god. I could feel it in my teeth, a low-frequency buzz that set my fillings aching, even though I hadn't had a dental checkup in... God, when was the last time? Back home, in that life that felt like a fever dream now. The kind where you wake up sweating, heart pounding, only to realize the real nightmare is the one you're living.
I bolted, sand sucking at my ankles like greedy fingers, each step a betrayal of the ground beneath me. The jungle—if you could call this petrified hell a jungle—seemed to close in, the spires leaning like judgmental elders, their quartz veins pulsing with that eerie cold light, casting long, jagged shadows that danced mockingly at the edges of my vision. The air grew heavier, laced with the metallic tang of impending rain that never came, just the perpetual damp of decay, like the Realm itself was exhaling its rotten breath.
Behind me, the Stone-Jaw burst from a crevice I'd just skirted, its massive form erupting in a spray of black dust and shattered rock. It was a behemoth, easily the size of a small car, its basalt carapace cracked like ancient pavement, glowing faintly with veins of trapped phosphor. Those mandibles—God, those mandibles—were twin vices of polished stone, each jaw lined with serrated edges that could pulverize bone to paste in a single snap. Its legs, thick as tree trunks, ended in claws that gouged the sand, leaving furrows deep enough to swallow a man whole. And its eyes... two glowing slits under the shell, like cracks in hell's forge, fixing on me with the cold certainty of a predator that had never known failure.
Panic clawed at my throat, but Voracious—the thing inside me, that alien hunger—stirred again, a warm coil in my gut urging me forward. Devour or be devoured. The words weren't mine, but they echoed in my skull like a system prompt from some twisted game. My muscles, still buzzing from the Sand-Claw absorption, felt sharper, the temporary strength boost turning my scramble into something almost graceful. I vaulted over a low root of stone, the impact jarring my knees but not breaking stride, and ducked behind a cluster of spires that jutted from the ground like broken teeth.
The Stone-Jaw charged, its bulk shaking the earth, sending ripples through the sand that nearly toppled me. I pressed my back against the cold stone, heart hammering like a war drum, and risked a glance. It was close—too close—the steam from its mandibles (did it breathe fire? No, just hot, fetid air) washing over me in waves that smelled of wet earth and crushed insects. One leg slammed down mere feet away, the claw sinking deep, and I felt the vibration rattle my spine.
Think, Arthur. Think. Flashbacks hit unbidden: the driving test I'd been rushing to, the shortcut alley that had seemed so harmless, the black curtain rising like a lover's veil turned executioner's hood. And Emma—her laugh cutting through the rain that afternoon, her hand brushing mine as we dashed under that awning. "You're gonna ace it," she'd said, eyes sparkling with that mix of mischief and something deeper, unspoken. The memory twisted like a knife now, because what would she think if she saw me here? Covered in monster goo, veins thrumming with stolen power, running from a beetle the size of a truck?
No time for that. The Stone-Jaw reared, mandibles parting with a grind like tectonic plates shifting, and lunged. I rolled sideways, the jaws snapping shut inches from my heel, the force of the miss sending a shockwave that peppered me with sand. On my feet, I grabbed a loose shard of quartz from the ground—jagged, sharp as broken glass—and slashed at its underbelly as it lumbered past. The edge bit into softer flesh beneath the carapace, drawing a spray of dark ichor that sizzled on the sand, eating through like acid. The beast screeched, a sound like grinding gravel mixed with a dying engine, and wheeled back, one antenna twitching erratically.
Emboldened—foolish, maybe—I circled, shard raised like a pathetic sword. Voracious whispered again, that insidious voice: Closer. Taste it. My stomach growled, not with hunger but with something feral, something that made my mouth water at the thought of ripping into that armored hide. The Stone-Jaw lunged again, slower this time, and I dodged left, the wind from its mandibles ruffling my hair. As it overextended, I struck—driving the shard into the joint of its foreleg, twisting with all the strength that Sand-Claw boost could muster. Cartilage-like material gave way with a wet crack, ichor gushing hot and sticky over my arm, burning through my sleeve like battery acid.
It staggered, leg buckling, and for a moment, I saw my opening. But then the pain hit— the ichor eating into my skin, flesh bubbling in white-hot agony, nerves screaming as muscle dissolved in slow motion. I bit back a scream, dropping the shard, and scrambled away, the burn spreading like wildfire up my arm. The Stone-Jaw recovered, dragging its injured limb, eyes locking on me with renewed fury. It was hurt, but not done—far from it.
Desperation clawed deeper. I needed something—anything. My hand fumbled to my pocket, fingers closing around the familiar shape of my phone. The relic. Battery at 87% still, impossibly slow drain mocking the chaos. No signal, of course, but the flashlight... I flicked it on, the beam cutting through the mist like a defiant lance, pale and trembling but unyielding. I swung it toward the beast's eyes, the light reflecting off its phosphor veins in blinding flashes.
It recoiled, mandibles clacking in disorientation, the sudden glare disrupting its primal senses. Buy time, I thought, circling again, the burn in my arm a constant throb. The phone's glow cast eerie shadows, turning the spires into skeletal guardians, the sand into a sea of ink. Another memory parasite wormed in: Emma's voice on a voicemail I'd never listened to fully, "Call me after the test, okay? Miss you already." The words twisted now, accusatory—*What are you now, Arthur? A monster playing hero?*
The Stone-Jaw shook off the daze, charging once more, but I was ready. I feinted right, then dove left, the beam tracking its eyes to keep it off-balance. As it snapped at empty air, I lunged for the underbelly again, bare hands this time—Voracious urging me on, that dark bliss bubbling up. My fingers sank into the wound I'd made, tearing at the soft tissue, ripping free a hunk of meaty innards that pulsed warm and wet against my palms. The beast howled, thrashing, but I held on, mouth watering despite the horror, and bit down.
The taste exploded—bitter ash and mineral rot, like chewing gravel soaked in sewage, but beneath it, power. Raw, unfiltered. I chewed, gagged, swallowed, the chunk lodging in my throat before sliding down in a burning rush. Voracious ignited:
[Voracious – Level 2 Unlocked]
Absorption: +10% Defense (Remnant Carapace – 1hr). Stone endures, flesh bends.
A crust formed over my skin, invisible but solid, like wearing armor woven from the beast's own hide. The burn on my arm dulled, the ichor no longer eating deep. The Stone-Jaw staggered back, ichor pouring from its gut, but it wasn't finished—mandibles wide, it lunged one last time. I met it head-on, the new defense holding as its jaws clamped on my shoulder. Pain lanced through, bone creaking under pressure, but the carapace held—cracking, not shattering. I twisted the shard in its wound deeper, feeling the give of vital organs, hot fluids flooding my hand.
It released me with a shuddering bellow, collapsing in slow convulsions, legs kicking up sand storms. I fell back, panting, the makeshift armor fading as the hour ticked down, leaving me bruised but whole. The jungle fell silent, save for the dying gurgles of the beast. I stared at its corpse, the reality sinking in: I'd killed it. Devoured part of it. And part of it was now *me*.
The phone's light flickered—86.9%. Slowly. Eternally. A lifeline, or a curse? I pocketed it, wiping ichor from my mouth, the taste lingering like a bad omen. The mist thickened, whispers of more horrors stirring in the dark. But for now, I lived. Survived. The Black Realm had taken my world, but it wouldn't take me—not without a fight.