Story 869: The Maw of the Devourer

The chamber shook as the mass of twisting, reanimated corpses surged toward them, clawing and shrieking. The air was thick with the stench of rotting flesh and something far worse—the pungent, acrid scent of infection, mutation.

Evelyn scrambled to her feet, her pulse pounding. Reaper hauled Mia up beside her, pressing a hand against the deep gash in her arm. “Stay with me,” he growled.

Leon reloaded his rifle with trembling hands. “This thing is herding us.”

A deep, guttural laughter echoed from above.

The creature loomed in the darkness, its grotesque tongue slithering from its gaping, fanged maw. Its flesh rippled, shifting unnaturally, almost as if its body were constantly reshaping itself. The Devourer had evolved.

It dropped from the ceiling with a sickening thud, landing on all fours, its grotesquely elongated arms stretching forward. A sickening pop followed as its jaw unhinged wider.

Lucas fired first—a direct headshot.