Story 705: The Alchemist’s Touch

The Rotting Cathedral pulsed with unnatural life. Fungal growths stretched across the decrepit walls, glowing with eerie bioluminescence. The air was thick with the scent of damp decay and something sharper—alchemy at work.

Selene Nocturna stood before a stone altar, her gloved fingers delicately adjusting a vial of sickly green liquid. Her smirk widened as she watched the thick, bubbling concoction twist and shift, forming tiny writhing shapes within the glass.

"One more drop," she mused, her voice silken and deadly, as she let a thick, black liquid swirl into the vial.

The mixture reacted violently, twisting, screaming—yes, actually screaming—before settling into a thick, pulsing gel. Selene tilted her head in admiration.

"Beautiful."

A rustling at the cathedral’s entrance made her pause. Without looking, she raised a hand, and the torches lining the walls snapped to life with pale, greenish flames, illuminating the figure who had dared to enter her domain.