Story 754: The Hollow Dirge

The Rotting Cathedral’s hymn had begun, its echoes seeping into the marrow of the city. The masked intruder’s body spasmed in an alley drenched in sickly moonlight. Veins, once flowing with purpose, now twisted and darkened, puppeteered by Selene’s will. He clutched his chest, the crimson sigil pulsing like a second, poisoned heart.

"She’s found me," he rasped, coughing up filaments of black bile.

Far above, perched upon a ruined spire, Selene Nocturna watched. Her hood concealed most of her face, but the gleam of yellowed teeth curling into a smile was unmistakable. Her Dark Arms twitched, clawed shadows writhing in delight.

"I gave you a chance to kneel," she whispered, though the words traveled like spiders skittering through the air, wrapping themselves around the dying man’s ears. "But you chose arrogance over reverence. And so, dear intruder, you will die singing my dirge."