Cherreads

Born of the Abyss

ShiroNekomori
In the depths where neither the light nor the gods reach, the world keeps its last secret: a heartbeat. It is not that of a beast. It is not that of a god. It is something older, hungrier. A pulse that has waited centuries between the cracks, weaving dreams with the bones of the fallen and breeding nightmares in stone wombs. Those above call it the Abyss. They are wrong. It is the forgotten echo of all we have buried. Those who descend with swords think they carry fire, but they carry only their chains. They hunt beasts, but find only echoes of their own sins. For in the Abyss, monsters weave cradles from the bones of the fallen, wondering what accursed god created those beings they call “human.” Now the cracks sing. The walls weep. And what we called “nature” raises its black hand to erase the names of its gods. Because the abyss neither forgives nor forgets. And when the last light goes out, who will be more afraid: the one who looks into the darkness... or the darkness that looks at him?
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