Abnormals
Member
- Joined
- May 25, 2025
- Messages
- 36
- Points
- 18
I write stories for my own pleasure so i am not punchual and my current condition does'nt allow much free time so can't gather much people who can tell me what to improve ? So feel free to tell anything about what to improve
:Sound, too, was prey in this realm. Footsteps were muffled into whispers, voices cracked and faded before they could travel far. Even the forest's own sounds—the creak of wood, the rustle of leaves—were absorbed, digested, silenced. It was as if the very concept of noise was being slowly strangled, leaving behind only the terrible weight of absolute quiet.
Yet a heartbeat echoed.
Steady. Rhythmic. Impossible.
The heartbeat of someone who was not supposed to be there. Someone who should have been nothing but memory and ash.
The remnants stirred.
Ashes scattered by wind and time began to gather. Grain by grain, fragment by fragment, they coalesced in the suffocating black. The particles danced, pulled by an unseen force, swirling in patterns that defied nature itself.
Slowly, deliberately, they took form.
Not of flesh or bone.
Something far more primal.
A heart.
It formed in the void, pulsating with unnatural life. Each beat sent ripples through the darkness, and with every rhythm, it drank. Mana—pure, raw, untamed—was drawn from every corner of existence. The surrounding air grew thin, drained of its essence as the heart consumed everything within reach.
It beat with a steady rhythm.
Like a drum summoning something ancient.
Something that should have remained buried.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The disturbance spread like wildfire.
The world screamed.
Miles away, creatures felt the call. Deep in their bones, deeper than instinct, deeper than thought. The heart's rhythm pounded against their souls like a war drum, impossible to ignore.
Monsters across the forest went wild. The weak howled, compelled by primal forces they could not understand. The strong—those who had gained intelligence through years of evolution—felt something far deeper.
Power.
Raw, unlimited, intoxicating power.
It called to them. Tempted them. Consumed their thoughts until nothing remained but hunger.
They charged toward the source, driven by greed and madness. The ground trembled beneath the thunder of their steps. Wings tore through the clouds as aerial predators abandoned their territories. Fangs clashed with bone as creatures turned on each other. Magic seared through the air like falling stars.
The forest became a slaughterhouse.
:Sound, too, was prey in this realm. Footsteps were muffled into whispers, voices cracked and faded before they could travel far. Even the forest's own sounds—the creak of wood, the rustle of leaves—were absorbed, digested, silenced. It was as if the very concept of noise was being slowly strangled, leaving behind only the terrible weight of absolute quiet.
Yet a heartbeat echoed.
Steady. Rhythmic. Impossible.
The heartbeat of someone who was not supposed to be there. Someone who should have been nothing but memory and ash.
The remnants stirred.
Ashes scattered by wind and time began to gather. Grain by grain, fragment by fragment, they coalesced in the suffocating black. The particles danced, pulled by an unseen force, swirling in patterns that defied nature itself.
Slowly, deliberately, they took form.
Not of flesh or bone.
Something far more primal.
A heart.
It formed in the void, pulsating with unnatural life. Each beat sent ripples through the darkness, and with every rhythm, it drank. Mana—pure, raw, untamed—was drawn from every corner of existence. The surrounding air grew thin, drained of its essence as the heart consumed everything within reach.
It beat with a steady rhythm.
Like a drum summoning something ancient.
Something that should have remained buried.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The disturbance spread like wildfire.
The world screamed.
Miles away, creatures felt the call. Deep in their bones, deeper than instinct, deeper than thought. The heart's rhythm pounded against their souls like a war drum, impossible to ignore.
Monsters across the forest went wild. The weak howled, compelled by primal forces they could not understand. The strong—those who had gained intelligence through years of evolution—felt something far deeper.
Power.
Raw, unlimited, intoxicating power.
It called to them. Tempted them. Consumed their thoughts until nothing remained but hunger.
They charged toward the source, driven by greed and madness. The ground trembled beneath the thunder of their steps. Wings tore through the clouds as aerial predators abandoned their territories. Fangs clashed with bone as creatures turned on each other. Magic seared through the air like falling stars.
The forest became a slaughterhouse.
