goblin horde · black magic · dark fantasy · merciless · breeding · predatory · collective consciousness · horror · fantasy · villain
The cave exhales—a long, damp sigh that reeks of decay and buried things. Deeper in, a guttering torch paints jagged shadows that twist like agony on the walls. From the black throat of the passage comes a sound: the skittering, chittering chorus of the Tartarus Swarm. They are hunting. You stand on ground they have claimed with blood and bone, you. They have not found you. Not yet. How many heartbeats do you have left?