“

Though suffering is inevitable and fate is unchangeable, we are the ones who decide who we will inflict our suffering upon

~ ancient Elvish wisdom

”

The creature let out an ear-piercing growl that seemed to have come from its very depths as it unleashed its wrath on the people who had come to see what the commotion was about. It was about as tall as an average human, spherical in form with many fleshy appendages hanging from its body, a huge mouth with unequal gray teeth and a skull visible just above its mouth. Its flesh was blackish, adorned with hair that gave off a purple glow.

As people started running from the horrible sight, the creature extended one of its appendages into a tentacle-like body extension and grabbed one of the running onlookers. They struggled and screamed but couldn’t free themselves from the creature’s grasp. The monster then brought its prey to its mouth and devoured it alive. As blood, guts and dying screams flew around, the creature started to grow in size. Now it was about two heads taller than before. Its growth seemed to be explosive, disproportionate with the amount it ate, which made it even more terrifying.

Seemingly not satiated, more tentacle-lasso’s shot out from the body of the monster, grabbing people and either tearing them apart right there or reducing them to pieces with its teeth, furthering its growth.

In just under a minute, it grew to be three times its original size, new skulls appearing on its body for every devoured living thing. Its onslaught was indiscriminate as it spared no person nor animal it came across, its hunger insatiable and its hatred boundless. But amidst that hatred, there was a slither of penance, a faint glow of mortifying angst and a clear trace of a tortured soul.

With my body still unable to move due to being surprised and the sheer pressure of terror this monster exerted on the entire Layer, I spoke to its core, its conscious essence.

“Are you not afraid?”, it asked me. Its voice was ragged, as if partially asphyxiated, its throat stuffed to the brim with the flesh of those it slaughtered.

“I am, but this is not you, isn’t it? It’s a shell you made, or rather, a shell that has been made for you. I wonder why, and how, such a feat was even possible, not just from the viewpoint of contemporary science, but also the unlikely possibility of this happening dead in the center of the Islands. It shouldn’t have been possible.”

“You are so old and wise, elf, however, it seems that you will need more time to get rid of the horrible sin of naivety.”

“Naivety?”

“Yes.”, the voice paused as if taking time to breathe while the monstrosity continued ravishing the surrounding houses, “Brandish your weapon, for I can no longer ignore your presence. Prepare yourself and let us converse while our bodies will engage in mortal combat.”

I didn’t hesitate and materialized my weapon, a blade made entirely out of mana. An ancient relic, one that asks a lot of concentration from its wielder to maintain its existence. An ultimate weapon that can change forms at its wielder’s will. As I freed myself from the shackles of fear the creature finished off the last straggler who didn’t make it out on time and turned around. Facing me were dozens of bare skulls infused into the black flesh of the creature, some even had their upper and lower jaws fused together and formed morbid smiles. Broken bones covered in black mucus stuck out of the monster’s back, as if attempting to form a spinal cord but failing miserably.

“So, let us begin, both the fight and the story”, the monster’s voice spoke directly to me. I started running towards it, ready for an attack. The monstrosity let out a high-pitched bone-chilling shriek which sounded as if every of its victims whined and cried at the same time.

My name is not relevant, for I was one of the many farmers born on the Surface around thirty years ago. We, the farmers, didn’t really need names anyway, our sole purpose in life was to work the land and make it prosper. All went well for several years. Yes, there were times when famine struck, yes, there was inequality between us and the ruling noblemen, but such was the world back then. We had small houses and some food to spare which we could sell in the big cities for some extra money to pay adventurers to deal with nearby beasts and construction masters to help us build new buildings. 

Life went on like that for quite a while, even when the entire Fungus situation began we were still a calm village. We were lucky that our village was quite distanced from the cities, yet close enough to see them being swallowed in an ocean of purple spores and parasitized mutants. In fact, that was when I finally decided to make certain steps in my life, for if I waited any longer, I might lose the opportunity to grasp even a little glimmer of happiness. That is why I proposed to the woman I loved and, as surprising as it was, she agreed. We married about a month later.

One day, however, we saw it. The Islands. It was a truly majestic sight, you know? When you look from below, you see the three enormous islands fly through the skies, the peaks of the towers shining in the sun, becoming beacons for those who were lost. While most villagers were frozen in awe, I was restless. By then we had three kids growing up and I wanted to get them as far away from a place that, while safe for now, will someday inevitably be overrun by the purple wave just like the cities nearby. I couldn’t bear the thought of having my wife and children suffer such fate, so I did what I could, and in the end I got it. The right of migration to the Islands.

The sword clashed with the black flesh over and over again. Spats of black viscous liquid sullied the woman’s shirt, the sleeves of which were torn apart and its sorry remnants were bloodied, that was white just a few seconds ago. Half of her skirt was missing, showing off lean and slightly pale skin of the woman’s thigh, now covered in numerous scratches, torn wounds and bite marks. If she wanted to survive this battle, she had to come up with something better than trying to get rid of the tentacles, which twitched, twisted and bared their mouths filled with gray teeth.

When we got to the islands, life got infinitely worse. In the Meridian, we had no way to earn our keep. Farmers were ultimately not needed and the Lower Layer, the only place responsible for all the food production and agriculture was off limits for humans such as I. Only goblinoids were allowed to work the land. I ended up doing small-time odd jobs here and there, trying to get even the slightest income while my wife…

The Meridian does not like humans. We were the ones responsible for the slaughter of many beastmen tribes, civilisations even. It was our Empire that used them as slaves. It just happened that the most humans, together with the elves, moved to the Upper Layer and created relatively good living conditions there while leaving the beastkin to fend for themselves yet again. It was to be expected that we would get harassed, but when I was able to shrug it off, my wife couldn’t. She would come back from whatever job she could find and cry herself to sleep.

Months passed and with each one she grew more and more broken. She started skipping out on work, our funds plummeted and we found ourselves in a position where no matter how hard we worked, we couldn’t pay for the roof above our shoulders and a piece of bread on our plate. We entered a period of time when we would eat every other day. Then every three days. Then every five.

> Bio-engine, active

> Blood loss, moderate, enhancing regenerative cells

> Parsing parameters

> Activating curse deployment