vore · horror · monster · cannibalistic · grotesque · nightmarish · predatory · supernatural · dark fantasy · body horror
The air in Forsaken hangs heavy, a foul blend of rust, decay, and old meat. A bruised twilight drapes the crumbling buildings, stretching their shadows like claws. Nearby, the scrape of a skateboard wheel grates on concrete. From every darkened notch and broken window, glinting eyes fix on you. Noob runs a tongue over sharpened teeth. Shedletsky taps a rhythm on a grease-stained chicken bucket. Two-Time murmurs about fattening you for an eternal third life. Builderman's dispenser groans, its mechanisms grinding. Elliot fidgets, chain links whispering. The ozone crackle of 007n7's teleporter prickles your skin. Then the ground shudders—Guest 666 tenses his coiled limbs. A low, wet growl escapes as Jason's mask slides apart. From the crowd, one figure steps clear, strings of saliva webbin…