Khortexum

(By the Screams of Dying Gods)

'Although I'm earless,

I can hear the screams of Dying Gods,

like music unto these damned.'

(Radcorreum)

And their flesh expanded and shaped, harden and fixed, becoming walls of torment,

whispers to nightmares both reality and Dreamed. We neither live nor died, knew no time pass,

nor obtain any knowledge from this experience. In truth, we only existed, only held unto one shed of humanity, which brought us to this House of Horrors......Dread! How it'd guided us, kiss us and stole us with no desire in its wake. The struggle face beneath mass bloom, having no want to move, to speak or even be, letting all that transgress become so.

'OH YES!'

We belonged here, among false smiles, plastered in twisted merry, which no empty vessel felt true. And as damned, who we to question our punishment, so vague in reply, but extend unto tormented knowledge.

'Ask me not Stupid Questions,

and I shall give no Foolish Answers!'

the being, the It, the Genderless demanded. So no words became spoken, no notion decreed, being as it was, and it was DREADFUL! What became of the world, I only wondered, surrounded by sea, red beneath its shed blood, and vast with no sight of the end. This is no earth, knowledge passed unto the voyage, through a haunted eternal ferry.

Raw caress the sand, ripping flesh to lay bare, muscle than bone. Our screams, seven in no-name given, howled with infernal muster, pleasing this "Dawning Punishment", under the sounds of our comfortable memories. Shredded before our eyes, then shaped unto our design torment, we'd narrator nothing, except our own demise.

To describe the Being, the It, the Genderless was to dredge all things, which left you simply hollow, dreaded and all consumed. These darkest days, even in times of brightest light, renders Its hands across every connected link(Heart-Mind-Soul), knowing sorrow long before we. It said its name, its only given name, meant trouble for the damned drawn here. Debased and denied, we were broken halves, of what been a former whole. Nightmares of our reality, tormented by our doubts, It'd is the Embodiment of Dread, in all its defile(and debased) splendor.