The Lord of Veins | Shadow Slave

Those eyes—those terrible, all-consuming eyes. Their inky blackness spoke of unyielding hunger, utterly devoid of mercy or pity, fixated solely on consumption of all.

A shrill wail pierced through the stagnant air. The abyssal creature tore through the stone skin that had imprisoned it for centuries. Dust and debris rained down, and the ancient spiraling staircase trembled and cracked. The pit, once it's prison, couldn't contain this forbidden entity any longer, and now it was being unleashed into this realm.

Fleeing from the creature, Zerin could feel it's gaze burning into the back of his head. The pressure, so powerful it shoved him forward, each step up the crumbling staircase more frantic than the last.

But as he reached for the surface, seeing freedom within arm's length, a deep shadow was casted over him. In an instant, its hand stabbed forth, seizing Zerin.

"No!" Zerin gasped. He outstretched for the edge of the pit but was pulled back.

The creature's hand wrapped around him like a vice, its cold, leathery, grey, dead fingers curling around him. Zerin's ribs creaked under the crushing pressure. His rushed to his head, and he gasped, but his lungs could hardly expand.

Struggling, he kicked his feet at the air as he was pulled back downward into the pit.

The abyss embraced him, and he was now forced to confront it head-on.

Its face—one born from darkness. There was no life in it, no warmth, only the abyss. The creature's eyes, vast and soulless, pierced deeper than flesh, reaching into the core of his being. Utterly exposed, he felt as though his soul lay bare for its hungering inspection.

From the very beginning to the bitter end, the creature peered into far deeper than just the physical. Zerin's first steps, the distorted faces of his parents that his mind refused to acknowledge, and now---his death. 

The creature's lips twisted into a grim grin—a grotesque parody of joy. It knew.

Zerin's heart pounded. The narrow slit that was the creature's mouth, expanded disproportionally, unveiling a bottomless chasm of darkness that had promised to be his burial. But despite his aversion to it all, he couldn't do a thing but utter a plea that was ignored.

"No… not like this…" His voice was barely a whisper, the words trembling from his lips.

A tug—like an invisible thread—latched onto something within him. A golden light, faint but unmistakable, began to drift from his chest toward the creature's mouth. He felt his soul begin to slip away, his body growing numb and limp.

Yet, just as the creature began its feast, it stopped. Zerin's body was weak in its grip, but his mind sharpened.

What?

The creature's grin faded, replaced by confusion and disgust. Its gaze narrowed, as if repulsed by the sudden resistance.

Zerin's senses returned. Feeling the crushing grip seizing him once more.

"ACK!" He let out a strangled cry, blood speckling from his lips as the monster drew him even closer.

Its vast, inky black eye hovered mere inches from his own. Zerin stared into the abyss, and the abyss stared back. In that moment, he was completely drawn into its gaze, as darkness began to claw at the edges of his vision.

Then, a sound—a wet, horrid rip of flesh—tore through the silence.

The creature shrieked in agony. Zerin's head snapped to the side at the sudden shift in movement. Another creature intercepted them, a white blur of motion, claws that render flesh, and fangs that were sharp like steel.

The Howler.

Its teeth and claws burrowed into the creature's massive eye. Black blood gushed from the wound, coating the Howler in its slick, inky ichor. Its ferocity was unmatched—absolute savage desperation.

The massive creature staggered, its grip loosening on Zerin as it thrashed to dislodge the Howler.

As a consequence, Zerin was hurled through the air, sent out of the pit. Landing upon a frozen pile of skeletal remains and snow. The brittle bones shattered beneath him, their dry, jagged edges slicing into his skin.

Zerin gasped, the impact forcing blood from his mouth. His body ached as he rolled down the pile of bones, landing on his stomach.

A low, ominous bellow echoed from the pit. The sound made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to move. "Move," he spoke in a hushed voice to himself. "Just... move..." His hands, trembling and bloodied, clawed at the shards of bone that stabbed at his fingers, shredding them as he struggled to rise.

His knees wobbled as he stood, every inch of his body resisting movement. His vision blurred with pain, but his gaze lifted to the pit one final time.

The Howler was now bearing the consequence of Zerin's actions. Its flesh was being peeled away in strips, sucked into the abyssal maw. It's bones loudly cracked and disintegrated. Each fragment reduced to dust as it was beginning to be consumed.

"No… No…" Zerin's voice broke, speaking through the bitter taste of iron in his throat. He could feel the Howler slipping away, fading like an ember.

He quickly withdrew whatever was left of the Howler. What should have been an effortless task was enough to send him collapsing to one knee.

"Shit…" he whispered, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "I… can't move…"

But he had to. He had to bring Dex back. He had to survive. 

He rose, only to stumble and collapse once more, but the bitter cold jolted him back to his feet. His breath came in ragged gasps as he turned away and limped across the bone-scattered graveyard toward the frozen lake.

He didn't dare look back—not when the creature's shrill wail echoed behind him, not when it rose from the pit that had once been its prison, and not even when the earth trembled beneath its weight and the wind fled from its presence.

Zerin wished he had listened. Because he couldn't trust the power he was given, he had wasted the life she had sacrificed. Yet even now, he still clung to the desire to live, to avoid becoming as useless as he had been back then.

Reaching the edge for the bone-laden expanse. Zerin knew, deep down, that it was meaningless. He had seen it himself in that creature's eyes, bleeding out, and swallowed by darkness. But even knowing this fate, he refused to yield. Stubbornness was all that he had left.

Its shadow loomed over him, then its claws tore across his back, slicing through flesh and muscle.

"AGH!" The scream ripped from his throat.

The force from the blow launched him forward. His hands grasped at the air, but there was nothing to hold onto.

Just as the ground met him, its jagged maw took him in, before he could even brace for the fall. Zerin plunged into the darkness. A final breath caught in his throat as he was enveloped.