Story 796: A Garden of Bone

The Rotting Cathedral stood silent, but its silence was not one of peace. It was a waiting, an inhalation before the exhale of something foul. Selene Nocturna moved through its crumbling halls, her footsteps barely disturbing the layer of dust and dried blood coating the stones.

She had feasted. The girl had feasted. And now, it was time for the harvest.

Beyond the cathedral’s grand doors lay the Bone Garden—a grotesque field of twisted remains, where skeletons did not rest but clawed at the earth, writhing in silent torment. The garden was alive in a way that defied nature. It pulsed, breathed, shifted. Bones grew like vines, twisting into spires, flowering into cruel shapes.

Selene stepped forward, inhaling deeply. The scent of death was sweet, laced with the memory of pain. She ran a hand over the jagged spine of a once-defiant warrior, now reduced to nothing but another root in her garden.