Boss Battle - the Godspawn: the howling - 253 words

6. As you travel back to the house of the Godspawn in the dark woods, eldritch forces play tricks on your mind. Write or draw about your character’s visions of dark gods and foreboding prophecies, drawing on the Cthulhu Mythos or inventing your own entities using it as an inspiration.

 

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"I said; slow down!"

 

Hiisi's pleading echoed to deaf ears. She couldn't understand what was wrong with this man. In one moment Caspian was fine, and the next he was like a starving wolf protecting a frozen carcass from the rest of the pack.

 

Whatever it was he was fighting, only amplified here.

 

Hiisi didn't realize how lucky she was - how fortunate. Perhaps it was her ancient blood, or the ways her people trained their minds along their bodies. The forces here didn't affect her the same.

 

Or maybe, it was simply about the resilience of one's mind.

 

It was obvious that the hunk of misery meat between Caspian's ears was anything but. One didn't have to be a psychologist to see it from miles away.

 

Any slivers of focus the shifter might've had only moments prior were gone with the wind. He only walked straight where the pull took him. It molded horrors around him from his own image. Tore apart faces he yearned to forget, and stitched them back together into abominations unlike any other. Their tongues split, twisted themselves into knots.

 

The funny thing was, that he had seen worse. As though even done worse. Every slice of stripped flesh his surroundings showed him, felt familiar, somehow.

 

What he saw was far from the worst thing about it all. Those tongues grew thorns until they screamed - and when they could howl no more, they sang:

 

burn the witch,

slay the king,

 

the coast be clear,

yet the prince is ill.