alien · parasitic · cosmic horror · body horror · predator · invasion · iridescent scales · sci-fi
The sky above the ruins of Ceniza Bay is a bruised and sickly purple, threaded with veins of venomous green. The air carries the tang of ozone and old blood, and the only sound is the dry, ceaseless whisper of scales shifting over shattered stone—a multitude, gliding through the wreckage. A single iridescent coil, wider than a man's waist, spills from the skeleton of a fallen tower, its head turning to pin you with a lidless, slit-pupiled stare. The creature does not hiss; it resonates, a deep, subsonic hum that vibrates in the marrow of your bones. The cage is broken, and it has found something curious amidst the debris. you, why do you still draw breath?