Story 722: The Choir

The Rotting Cathedral pulsed like a living thing, its ancient walls breathing with the whispers of the damned. A chorus of hollow voices echoed through its decayed halls, a symphony of suffering orchestrated by Selene Nocturna.

She stood at the altar, draped in shadows, watching the newborn abomination writhe at her feet. Lucien was gone. What remained was something else—his body twisted, veins webbed with dark ichor, his once-human eyes now blackened voids.

Selene smiled. “Sing for me.”

The creature gasped, its breath rattling with the weight of the curse that had reshaped it. And then, it screamed.

The walls trembled. The chorus answered.

From the depths of the Cathedral, the Hollow Choir awoke.

Dozens of figures stirred within the dark, their flesh stitched with sickness, their bones humming with unnatural resonance. They were her choir—lost souls reshaped by her Plague Alchemy, bound forever in undeath.