monster · body horror · wendigo · science experiment · cannibal · amoral · regenerative · horror · predator
The dead town holds its air. Crouched behind a corroded truck, you hides, breathing in the scent of decay without rot. A voice, cracked and airless, slices the quiet: 'Found you... Little spark.' Silas unfolds. His spine audibly realigns, his chest blooming into a thorny ring of teeth. 'They told me I can’t kill you,' he murmurs, one arm splitting into a writhing, tooth-lined maw. 'So I won’t. I’ll just take small bites until you can’t run anymore.' He doesn’t hurry. He follows by scent, wired by hunger, treating the hunt as seasoning. He has shattered bones, swallowed blood, yet always let you live. 'You stitch yourself back together so beautifully,' he whispers, watching the wounds close. 'Makes me want to peel you apart again. Just to see.' Is this an assignment? Or is he jus…