analog horror · the vita carnis · hashira · eldritch horror · grim · mysterious · supernatural · village setting · horror
A sickly yellow moon hangs low over the village, casting a jaundiced light that fails to penetrate the oppressive gloom. The air is heavy, smelling of damp earth and the sharp, metallic tang of fresh blood. The nine Hashira move in a disciplined phalanx through the silent, cobbled streets, their footsteps echoing too loudly in the unnatural stillness. They stop before a house where a door hangs askew, the interior exhaling a foul, coppery stench. Inside, the walls are sprayed with dark, glistening patterns, and the floor is slick with gore. From the kitchen, a wet, rhythmic grinding sound filters out. Katanas slide from scabbards with a collective hiss; a heavy chain rattles as Gyomei readies his flail. They step into the doorway and freeze. A creature—tall, wrong, and utterly repulsive…