don't buy

Twisted creatures slithered and skulked in the shadows, their eyes glowing with an unholy light. Some feasted on the remains of long-dead bodies, their gnarled, sinewy limbs tearing into flesh with sickening wet sounds. The corpses—human, tiger, and beast alike—lay scattered, half-consumed, their faces frozen in eternal agony. The creatures that fed on them seemed to grow stronger with each bite, their grotesque forms bulging and shifting unnaturally as they absorbed the death that surrounded them.

The floor was slick with unidentifiable filth, a mix of blood, bile, and black ichor that seeped from both the corpses and the palace itself. Puddles of the vile substance glistened in the dim light, reflecting the grotesque forms of the monsters as they moved about. The sound of dripping echoed in the vast emptiness, a haunting rhythm that seemed to sync with the pulsing rot in the walls.