Apostate Catacombs District of Profaners, Third Ring

Annabelle carefully stabilized her posture on the pyramid slope and squinted her eyes. Realistically, she saw three entrances into the pyramid. One was on top, bound to be filled with mad cultists in an easily defensible position and they would need to scale the odd hand construction as well. The bottom entrance was a fair way off and by the time they got down, it would also swarm with tongue monks. That only left the third option: A hole in the pyramid.

I looked conspicuously like an entire staircase had fallen through just moments prior. Just when she approached the impromptu entrance, she felt a sudden shiver run down her spine. Hunger. Intense, unreasonable hunger. The sensation confused her since she was clearly satiated. She turned to look at Sisi in the body of Tharia.

“You’re feeling it too?” Annabelle asked.

“Feels like a godbeast. Something that starved for a long time”, Sisi said and then suddenly rubbed the nose, followed by a loud sneeze.

“Health and longevity”, Annabelle said in reflex, “Wait, Tharia shouldn’t be able to catch a cold.”

“Aye, right you are”, Sisi replied and raised a hand, “But let me tell you, noses are surprisingly complex to repair. When did she get her nose broken again? We need to get this girl some books on self-preservation but she’d probably use them to hit herself again”

Annabelle sighed in response. The sprite was pulling her leg again. She spun around on the spot and felt her long hair sway with delayed motion. Her feet scaled up the flat slope and then brought her to the edge of the hole. Nothing much remained of the staircase, it had punched clean through several interior levels and had by now dissipated into random piles of rubble and dust. They would need to jump the remaining bit but luckily it was a distance even a child could manage. Still, Annabelle gave Tharia and Sisi a sign and then hopped inside. While falling down, she summoned the Scythe.

She landed with a quiet thud, feathered her fall and immediately went on the attack. Her weapon struck out into the darkness on sheer instinct alone. The blade whirred forward with a metallic sing but all it cut was air. That was odd, she could have sworn something had been there. An uncomfortable sensation of being watched took hold of her and when she heard another thud behind her, she whirled around ready to strike, only to see Sisi hold up hands in defense.

“This is really becoming a habit”, Sisi began with a grin.

The goddess raised a hand, “It’s okay to prank and tease me, but I beg of you, don’t keep on opening scars that haven’t all healed yet.”

“Understood. Everything else is fine then? Do you know just how much you’re a menace while asleep? I had no idea”, Sisi said with the mouth of Tharia.

A short moment of silence followed in which Annabelle once more examined her surroundings. Her eyes noticed subtle light coming from deeper inside. It was enough light to make out the collection of sleeping quarters to either side. The rooms closest to her looked quite poor. A row of beds with chests in front of them. She heard a sudden whimper from behind. More nonsense from Sisi.

“I’m sorry. Won’t happen again. I will neither tell nor tease about your desire to... ouch”, Sisi began talking and when Annabelle looked over her shoulder, a new hand-sized imprint started to glow on Tharia’s cheek.

“Internal monologue?” Sisi said with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders. This was becoming absurd and Annabelle would have none of it. She grabbed the handle of her Scythe and focussed on the light ahead. She hadn’t gone two steps when the weapon suddenly cracked underneath her fingers. With confusion, she realized the golden glow of the gloves. Bloody absurd. Sighing, she resummoned the weapon intact while dismissing the gloves.

After their mad power rush, she felt weak and exhausted, but maybe this would ground her again. She followed the corridor towards the light while using the Scythe as a way to keep distance between herself and anything that might jump her from the dark. Only eerie quietness was around her. She had expected the hustle and buzz of a temple or signs of living. For all purposes, this was the underground living space for the profaners. Yet all she got was quiet and a strange mixture between her lover and an insane sprite that were in a constant argument with each other. This was made worse by only hearing one side of it.

Once again, she felt watched. Scratching noises came from within the wall. For a second, part of the wall in front of her moved on its own. Annabelle hacked the blade of the scythe into it without hesitation – yet only ended up scratching stone. To her ear, the scratching noises sounded like laughter. On edge, Annabelle had to struggle with her jumpy instincts. In the end, Tharia had been right. She had needed more time to recover. The body had healed but her mind was cracked.

The corridor opened up into a large space that stretched all the way from the bottom to the top. Inside, the pyramid was actually hollow. Annabelle counted twelve levels in total, clusters of living quarters like the one she had passed, were built into the walls while a central black spiral connected all of it. Her first big surprise was at the bottom. She saw an actual fungus field filled with neglected farm animals. Down below seemed to be the realm of the weird over-sized baby creatures. Once Annabelle looked into their pitch black eyes, she stopped referring to them as babies and instead went for whys. Mostly from her impulse to shout why do these exist?

It was little consolation that they were far below them and even if they would run on their stubble legs, they would not get up to them in a long while. Annabelle shook her head and stepped onto the spiral. Sudden pangs of intense hunger made her stumble. The goddess groaned and held her stomach while the world twisted and spun around her. Then, it all stopped. Annabelle reached inside and attuned to the essences. There was one very close, just a bit above her.

Yet that second, something odd happened. Fluctuations of energy reached out to her and then, one of the essences disappeared entirely. Competition. Annabelle took a deep breath and then quickened her pace. She heard a groan up ahead and focussed her attention. Her heartbeat quickened and her senses grew sharp. She stepped around the bend and saw a monk stand in the middle of the spiral. Yet before she could strike, the body suddenly lifted off the ground. The long tongue had wrapped around the neck of the priest and then strung him up to the ceiling. Kicking and thrashing, the body quickly lost strength. Right before her eyes, she saw the inside of the body sucked out through the tongue and fed into the spiral itself.

Feeling a sudden and renewed disgust for the spiral, she now focussed her weapon on the stairs. The ground shuddered and the spiral suddenly curled underneath her. She noticed the various levels of the pyramid buzz by as she was dragged up. What she had assumed to be a staircase turned out to be a massive tongue. One that had just sucked dry a monster. Her ears picked up a crunching sound, the remains of the monk before her were smashed by two folds of the leathery spiral. When the ground underneath her started to curl up as well, she quickly grabbed Tharia and then took in her surroundings. They had passed the highest platform, there was Luciano. It would be a nasty plunge, still better than being swallowed or crushed. She dashed over the edge and smacked onto the ground. All in all, the fall had proven less bad than expected. She had pulled a muscle while covering Tharia’s body during the impact.

“Lucky you can heal”, Annabelle said, breathless. Sisi rolled off Annabelle and then shrugged the shoulders. Using the staff, the sprite got the girl back on the legs.

“About that. All hands on deck, neither healing nor fighting before this girl is in any shape functional again”

“I’ll keep that in mind”, Annabelle said flatly. She wasn’t angry or disappointed. This was a good reason and she had become too reliant on the healing magic. Getting onto her legs proved challenging with the limited range of motion but the pain was nothing in comparison to what she had suffered in the past. Just power through. Once back on her feet, she examined her surroundings. Not much time had passed. The writhing appendage disappeared into an amorphous shape of writhing flesh. One tongue hung down from it and was connected to the neck of a man some distance away.

Pinnacle of Profanity District of Profaners, Third Ring

“Luciano”, Annabelle said. The man opened his eyes. While his lower half was covered up in a several meter large cone of clothes, his torso was bare. Scars ran along his skin, some devotional, most punishment. In contrast with his flock, the man still had his jaw.

“The demon approaches”, he answered with a low baritone voice and spread his arms, “The world has begun its decline since last we met. How has your near-death treated you?”

Annabelle clenched her fist around the weapon and quickened her pace. The man made no attempt to move. He just remained in the center of the platform, eyeing her motions with a self-satisfied smugness.

“Such perverted bloodlust I feel from you”, the man said and licked his lips, “Ah how I have missed it. Glorious bliss. Did you know that only you were supposed to fall, demon? Yet you infected us with a burning hatred that would not stop until all were dead.”

The goddess had quickened her pace. Not a single emotion showed on her face and her voice was flat.

“Why did you do it? Why convince the others to kill me?”

“Because your kind is an abomination many centuries old! Be honored, you were to be the first and you aided us in getting rid of the evil that plagues this world! Now, finish it! You made me into yet another demon. Let’s fight, one way or another, a demon dies tonight”

Annabelle had reached the cone of clothing. Ruffle fabric reached up in waves of beautiful and intrinsic motives. She’d find this beautiful if not for the half-naked man in the middle. Rage pulsed out of her and when she looked back to Tharia, the small girl was hunched over and held her head. Her lust had indeed reached out. Yet this wasn’t supposed to be a fest of rage and murder but a conscious decision. She gathered her senses, calmed her pulse and felt the essence in front of her flicker and dance with anticipation.

“Death, you shall have”, Annabelle declared. This was the right mindset. Not emotion would govern her but a rational choice. Clarity of mind led to purpose. Mortality was underlined as the stepped forward and whirled her Scythe into his body in a motion almost too quick to see.

“Even now, you...”, the head of the profaner cult began to taunt her – yet the words never finished. His body convulsed and Annabelle pulled out the blade with an abrupt motion of her hands. Instincts told her this wasn’t the end however and it was right to doubt it. Luciano suddenly popped back up but there was no life within him anymore. A writhing mess of meat unfurled within him. His body lifted up and revealed a whole nest of them. He had no legs anymore, his body was nothing but a puppet for the creature above.

Another pang of hunger made Annabelle’s vision blur. She felt the essence drain from Luciano. It spread along the creature above her. Getting a sinking feeling, Annabelle slowly turned around and looked at an oversized ball of shivering skin and meat. The creature floated in the air and unfurled twelve of its fleshy appendages. They spread out like a fan and then smashed down onto the platform below. She only dodged it by a hair’s breadth. She ran alongside the tongue and dragged her scythe through the leathery skin. The massive creature shivered in response but didn’t seem too fazed when a second and a third slashed after Annabelle. She jumped onto the first and failing to maintain her balance, got struck by the third. It punted her through the air.

While flying, Annabelle quickly let go of the scythe. The impact was much softer than expected when she landed on another patch of flesh. This was a curse and a blessing, as the ground under her curled up around and quickly worked to wrap her inside. Annabelle summoned the gloves and war-fans in quick succession. She then whirled on the spot while holding out both arms. The razor sharp blades of the weapons were amplified by the strength of the gloves and cut the tongue-folds apart. Yet that was all the punishment the summoned weapons could take. Both war-fans cracked under the pressure of the gloves. It mattered little, Annabelle grabbed onto the leathery surface and tore apart the hole her attack had opened. She stepped out of the tongue-folds to a curious sight. The beast looked weak, it wasn’t floating but rather resting on the strange hand statues of the pyramid.

“The Godbeast is not quite awake yet”, Sisi commented. It took Annabelle a while to realize that the sprite had moved the human girl as far away as possible. She was grateful for it. With her attention back on the Godbeast, she decided to do as much damage as she could before it woke up entirely. She resummoned one of the war-fans, pushed together the arms and then began spinning the weapon with her wrist. The drag gained from using the gloves for this made her stumble and when she finally let go, the weapon was wildly off course. It still punched through two layers of skin.

The Godbeast started to stir and Annabelle made a quick and ever so slightly insane decision. She jumped onto the biggest tongue and darted along its length. While running, she brought out both of the war-fans again. They had the biggest success so far. Soon, the tongue lifted off the ground and Annabelle was raised along with them. The folds started to curl in another attempt to crush her, this time, she was prepared. A half spin later and one of the war-fans let out a metallic sing as air and flesh were cut apart.

Annabelle forced herself through the fold and once she was through, she whirled around again and let the second war-fan cut along the entire length. This got the attention of the Godbeast. The leathery organ bucked and the goddess lost her footing. She fell on her bum and had to scurry back on her feet just in time to be struck by a whipping attack she hadn’t seen coming. Again, she was sent flying.

So much worse than just pulling a muscle, she thought as she skittered across the cold stone floor. More tongues lashed out and crashed into the places she had been seconds before. This was enough motivation to get on her feet. Exhaustion started to set in. She made a quick check of herself. Some contusions and bruises, a pulled muscle that barely hurt anymore because everything else did. Nothing serious yet but that could change quickly.

One last moment of focus, she sidestepped another massive tongue lashing out at the platform below her feet. Stone crumbled away underneath her, giving her a sudden idea. Instead of aiming for the beast, she ran for one of the statue hands that held the creature. Each step of the way she had to dodge more of the swishing attacks. Whether it was her aura of bloodlust that made the thing frenzy or it was naturally enraged, its movements got less coordinated and more rampant. Another impact took away the floor in front of her. Annabelle was too fast to stop, so she lowered herself for a jump. Yet when she pushed herself off, the pulled muscle came back with a vengeance.

Unable to fully utilize it, the jump fell short and she found herself tumbling down through the hole. She moved her shoulders to affect her trajectory directly into the tip of the tongue. It feathered her impact with the added bonus that she had something to hold onto. Her golden gloves crunched down on the skin, the flesh convulsed and she suddenly found herself back up again, high above the platform without any ground under her feet.

This time, the impact would be gnarly. Panic set in as the ground rushed closer. No time to think. She brought the war-fans back into her hands and swung them in an act of desperation. The first one buzzed past the hand pedestal and the second clipped one of the tongues without doing much damage. Annabelle cursed. This would be the perfect time for last-second rescues and ideas. She had none. The impact smashed her flat on the ground and let her skitter along the stone.

It took the wind out of her lungs, her vision was momentarily blurred. She had felt worse, her mind had seen worse but knowing these things didn’t make it any better. Annabelle had to move, now. Yet her body was sluggish and reeling from the impact. She got on her knees but the world would just spin around her. Nothing seemed broken at least. Yet it was too much. Struggling, she reached for the essence inside of herself and tried to pull power from within. Anything would do. She noticed the shadow of a tongue approach. It hovered above her and then moved in for the kill. Just a moment was all she needed. Dying here was not acceptable, she had so many things to do, so many desires to fulfil. Yet that moment of letting her mind wander brought about a sudden change. One second, she had collapsed back onto the stone, the next she fell into a soft cushioned bed. She was in what looked like a quarter of a room, lavish in fluffy cushions and soft colors. This strange cutout from reality frayed at the edges, where it connected with the real world beyond it.

“What in the fallen skies?” Annabelle groaned. She rolled around on the bed to try and dodge the impact by rolling away. Too late, it was right above her and – disappeared once it touched the edges of the small room. It wasn’t really gone, just in a different pocket of reality. Something had disjointed reality and put a projection on top of it, her whim rewrote it according to her whim. That whim somehow manifested as an overly comfy room that only missed a fluffy stuffed toy. All around: Absurdity. It took a brief second to set in and then she used a skill she gained from Tharia. Ignore it and move on.

“Well that changes things”, the goddess said. Her body recovered enough for her to get back up. Her weariness washed away. It didn’t help with her pain but mended her spirits enough to get back into the fray. She then rolled her shoulders, took aim for the hand statue and ran back out of her domain. Her mouth was shaped into a beastly snarl, her teeth were shown to the world.

Bloodlust pulsed through her veins as did the urge to destroy. She popped out of her domain and felt the cold world crush back on her shoulders. The hand statue was close and she was finally within range to punch her gloves straight through the stone. It crumbled to dust under her assault, the big creature did not dare strike her in this position, out of fear it would hit the statue itself. With a loud crack, the statue broke apart and the Godbeast smacked onto the already cracking platform. It let out a loud scream as the cracks widened. The beast desperately held onto the other hand statues for support. Annabelle intensified the grin on her face. Oddly enough, this overexerted her facial musculature and added to the ambient ache. Absurd. Bloody absolutely absurd.

“Let’s play then”, she said and turned her attention towards the next hand statue.

End: Hold your Tongue! | Coming up: Pinnacle of a Cult.