Story 767: The Hunger That Remains

The wind howled through the skeletal remains of Ebongrave, carrying with it the scent of rot and ruin. A city that had once defied the darkness now lay in absolute surrender—its streets paved with the bones of the faithful, its temples reduced to mausoleums for those who refused to kneel.

And at the heart of it all stood Selene Nocturna, her lips painted with the remnants of her latest offering.

The taste of death lingered on her tongue, rich with the echoes of suffering. She ran a bloodstained finger along the corner of her lips, licking away the last vestiges of the priest whose throat had spilled his final prayers upon her altar.

Hunger.

It gnawed at her, deeper than before, more insatiable than any plague she had ever conjured. It was no longer just power she sought—it was the visceral need to consume.

And she had only just begun.