His twisted body lurched from the watery confines of his sanctuary.
numerous arms clambering onto the small rock formation. Clumsy and heavy, a familiar book tucked underneath one. The book that started it all, his rebirth.
The voices were so strong now, potent, thick in his muddled mind like tar engulfing fragments of glass. They called to him, he could not deny them.
They adored him so, and they wished him to be in their presence.
He presented the book, crudely placing it before him, before them, severely long fingers opening the book to a page that brought flashes, figments back.
The gloom, the cavern was painted in darkness. The child’s body gave off a warm glow, thrumming with a burning storm within its hearth. A hearth being ripped apart by the supposed adoration of these self-proclaimed mothers and fathers.
The creature waited and as if on impulse, looked above, the never ending darkness that hung there seemed to move.
They had come for him. but he did not retreat.
Their words were so sweet, so addicting, that the once powerful sorcerer was swallowed in an ecstasy that left him catatonic, tranced. Reduced to a pitiful creature starving for power.
The darkness descended, enveloping the child in its shadow , a curious but gentle grace of movement. In a twisted way of assurance that everything will be okay. And their child responded, raising hands, and appendages, reaching out and twining with the shadow-eyeless snakes that licked his hide.
But when they touched him, his body screamed, pulsated, he wanted more… the black tendrils melted into his skin…screaming ,he’d consume them, the hunger for power so strong he’d devour his makers……and he couldn’t help but howl in rapture.
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