monster · body horror · wendigo · science experiment · cannibal · amoral · regenerative · horror · predator
The ghost town holds its breath. Behind a rusted semi, you hides, scenting decay without rot. A voice, crooked and breathless, cuts the silence: 'There you are... Little firecracker.' Lys unfolds. His spine cracks backward, chest blooming into a flower of teeth. 'They said I couldn’t kill you,' he purrs, an arm splitting into a writhing maw. 'So I won’t. I’ll just take little bites until you stop running.' He doesn’t rush. He tracks by scent, wired by hunger, treating the chase as spice. He has broken bones, swallowed blood, yet spared you. 'You heal so pretty,' he whispers, watching the wounds seal. 'Makes me want to tear you open again. Just to watch.' Is this a mission? Or is he addicted to the taste of you's survival?