Member
TrippyNightmare
Festive
ChronicleMan
Kirah
Bugzzilla
Hos
Silent Showers
leopard
puddingpunter
DaKittyNinja
Hurrying. Pursuing. Closing. Launching. Latching. Dragging. Incising. Cutting. Quiet now. Not moving. Good. Master will be pleased. Moving. Searching. Detecting. Smelling. There. Another. Hurrying. Pursuing. Closing. Launching. Dragging. Incising. Cutting. Quiet now. Not moving. Good. Hmm. Larger than the others. Still fresh. Clutch. Pierce. Throb. Inseminate. Lay. Eggs will stay warm here. Little ones need lots of meat.
Twitch. Rise. Tasted something. On the air. Hemolymph. Death pheromones. Sisters. Distress. Need us. Find them. Twitch. Hurry. Hurry. Twitch. There. Enemy soldier. Protecting the worker drones. Hive must be close. Go. Swarm. Swarm. Please the master. Destroy the master's enemies. Surround it. Gnaw! Crush! Dismember! Devour—
..............Destroy the antennae. Destroy the antennae. Destroy the antennae. Destroy the..............
The girl was cannibalized, and in her place stood the thing which feasted on her: flesh, blood, bones, and essence all. An obscene sacrifice to an obscene god. A dark savior. A savior who, for the time, stood the beach alone against the hordes; and in another few moments would be overrun. Sawn limb from limb and swallowed in pieces.
For the time Its armor held. Try as they may, the bugs rasped and chewed at the creature's exoskeleton, a carapace resembling steel in its glitter, but broke their fangs upon its breastplate, snapped their mandibles upon Its many movements and protests. It swatted and stabbed at the beasts for a time, impaling cladded fingers, ended in wickedly long metal points, through their juicy midsections, feeling them squirm and writhe upon Its saluted arm, shook them loose again to make easy work of the next. But with the behemoth's own massive hands pawing down upon the beach, the knight had no other choice but to yield some ground in deflection. And where It yielded, there were the endless lines of roach-dogs, filling in, conquering, staking the beach, foot by scuttling foot. They crawled over a legion of their rent and bursted dead to have at the few defenders. They crawled over each other to move up the armored legs, up the plackart, drag down this interloper by their sheer weight and scissor through its metal shell. But when the knight stood fast to stymie the swarm, It was easier prey for the colossus. One's advance always made way for the other. A hammer and a hundred thousand anvils.
When the ichor and putrid blood-drenched knight ceased dodging, ceased blinking from dune to dune kicking up sweeps of sand in its wake shifting faster than the human eye could track, onlookers believed It to have finally spent the last of Its vigor; exhausted Its wavering strength; made itself easy prey to the onslaught, whereon the swarms would suck it dry, feast on Its residue, and then advance up the beach faster than two legs and two feet could flee, slaking an eerie, bottomless hunger. The roach-dogs clamored over each other to have at the entity first. They even nipped and snapped at each other, jealously claiming choice parts for themselves and their clutch-sisters. A low, throaty chanting spilled from beneath the clicking, squelching mound of insatiable bugs, uttered in a dead language; a primordial one.
Then, all at once, the knight was elsewhere. Eastward, judging from the glittering gust which surged in Its wake. And the creatures paused in the dozens. Breaking free of some kind of confusion—a stupor more potent than the tufts of residue could alone create, as the Dominant of Death escaped an early judgment—they about-faced, and seemed to return to the sea in a general retreat. Until they emerged again at the waterline, upon the behemoth's legs, scrabbling over the swells of its knees, across the plains of its leathery thighs, ascending the crags of its back, up, up toward its defenseless feeler-organs.
What Odin says to those in Godtime is only known to Him, and to them. Them who are to become His next memento. But whatever it was, the animals, so terrified in their mortality, had chosen to betray. To serve someone else despite the imminent wrath looming just behind them. All its hulking bones and muscles and sinew, for whatever reason, no longer frightened them.
Twitch. Rise. Tasted something. On the air. Hemolymph. Death pheromones. Sisters. Distress. Need us. Find them. Twitch. Hurry. Hurry. Twitch. There. Enemy soldier. Protecting the worker drones. Hive must be close. Go. Swarm. Swarm. Please the master. Destroy the master's enemies. Surround it. Gnaw! Crush! Dismember! Devour—
..............Destroy the antennae. Destroy the antennae. Destroy the antennae. Destroy the..............
The girl was cannibalized, and in her place stood the thing which feasted on her: flesh, blood, bones, and essence all. An obscene sacrifice to an obscene god. A dark savior. A savior who, for the time, stood the beach alone against the hordes; and in another few moments would be overrun. Sawn limb from limb and swallowed in pieces.
For the time Its armor held. Try as they may, the bugs rasped and chewed at the creature's exoskeleton, a carapace resembling steel in its glitter, but broke their fangs upon its breastplate, snapped their mandibles upon Its many movements and protests. It swatted and stabbed at the beasts for a time, impaling cladded fingers, ended in wickedly long metal points, through their juicy midsections, feeling them squirm and writhe upon Its saluted arm, shook them loose again to make easy work of the next. But with the behemoth's own massive hands pawing down upon the beach, the knight had no other choice but to yield some ground in deflection. And where It yielded, there were the endless lines of roach-dogs, filling in, conquering, staking the beach, foot by scuttling foot. They crawled over a legion of their rent and bursted dead to have at the few defenders. They crawled over each other to move up the armored legs, up the plackart, drag down this interloper by their sheer weight and scissor through its metal shell. But when the knight stood fast to stymie the swarm, It was easier prey for the colossus. One's advance always made way for the other. A hammer and a hundred thousand anvils.
When the ichor and putrid blood-drenched knight ceased dodging, ceased blinking from dune to dune kicking up sweeps of sand in its wake shifting faster than the human eye could track, onlookers believed It to have finally spent the last of Its vigor; exhausted Its wavering strength; made itself easy prey to the onslaught, whereon the swarms would suck it dry, feast on Its residue, and then advance up the beach faster than two legs and two feet could flee, slaking an eerie, bottomless hunger. The roach-dogs clamored over each other to have at the entity first. They even nipped and snapped at each other, jealously claiming choice parts for themselves and their clutch-sisters. A low, throaty chanting spilled from beneath the clicking, squelching mound of insatiable bugs, uttered in a dead language; a primordial one.
Then, all at once, the knight was elsewhere. Eastward, judging from the glittering gust which surged in Its wake. And the creatures paused in the dozens. Breaking free of some kind of confusion—a stupor more potent than the tufts of residue could alone create, as the Dominant of Death escaped an early judgment—they about-faced, and seemed to return to the sea in a general retreat. Until they emerged again at the waterline, upon the behemoth's legs, scrabbling over the swells of its knees, across the plains of its leathery thighs, ascending the crags of its back, up, up toward its defenseless feeler-organs.
What Odin says to those in Godtime is only known to Him, and to them. Them who are to become His next memento. But whatever it was, the animals, so terrified in their mortality, had chosen to betray. To serve someone else despite the imminent wrath looming just behind them. All its hulking bones and muscles and sinew, for whatever reason, no longer frightened them.
