The Maker

He was a creator of talent rare, whose works earned great reknown, and jealousy in equal measure, from those much lower down. He labored beneath a city vast, ruled by lust and grift and gun, where much work was accomplished, to ensure little else was done. Shortly, a savage band assembled, around the maker's domain,… Continue reading The Maker


Dead men speak from living maws, as cordyceps, rampant, affixing jaws. Gnashing flesh of self and kin, rending veins for phantom sin. Their funhouse mirror reflects no face, no eyes to chart the charnel waste. Yet, from the blind, keen cheers abound, libations for the hungry ground. As the last lichling tumbles in, a eulogy… Continue reading Necroontologic