Within the deep caverns of a vast mountain, in the very bowels of the earth, there lay a shrine, surrounded by what resembled an underground haven—a sanctuary for those deemed different, those born of pure taboo. The air was thick with dampness, the scent of ancient stone mingling with something more arcane, something almost intoxicating.
Ternoxae, a goddess of the Eternal Night, thrived in dark places such as this. Her "children" were not born but collected—vulnerable souls who found themselves drawn into her grasp. Her most common method of acquiring willing subjects was through the offering of deals to individuals in dire circumstances. Desperation and misfortune made easy prey for the goddess, who whispered to the lost and broken, promising them salvation at a cost.
If one were to accept her offer, they would be afflicted with a curse, one that bore an uncanny resemblance to their very nature. A twisted reflection of themselves, branded into their soul for eternity.
On this gloomy, rain-soaked day, dozens of new initiates entered the haven. The dim glow of bioluminescent fungi illuminated their path, casting eerie blue and violet hues along the cavern walls. Among them was one of particular interest—an insatiable cannibal with a callous personality and a distinct lack of emotional intelligence.
This cannibal, an exiled noblewoman, was never without sustenance; her mouth was constantly slick with some kind of fluid, most commonly the crimson nectar she so fervently devoured. She would carve into the skin of her victims with practiced precision, ensuring not a single drop of their life-force went to waste. The mere thought of it sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.
She was unrelenting and cruel, though capable of compassion. However, her insatiable hunger, a curse bestowed upon her by the goddess she worshiped, made her irritable and unpredictable. The pangs of starvation twisted her insides like writhing serpents, a constant, gnawing reminder of her affliction.
Her name was known by none, for she saw no need to share it—not with those she considered mere food. That would have remained the case if she had not been forced into the company of these "cursed blockheads," as she thought of them. Yet, among them, her gaze fixated on one in particular. A hunt. Surely, the shady goddess would not provide her with true sustenance. If not, she would simply take matters into her own hands.
As the cannibal followed the instructions of the priestesses and guards within the sanctuary, the crowd of tainted individuals practically trampled her, their hurried steps kicking up the dust of the ancient ground. The pungent scent of decay and damp stone filled the air, making her stomach churn with a mix of nausea and ravenous hunger, leaving her and a few others to linger behind.
Lying on her back, she stared at the cavern's tall ceiling, trying to distract herself from the gnawing hunger. The rough stone above seemed to stretch endlessly, stalactites hanging like jagged teeth, as if the mountain itself were some great, slumbering beast ready to swallow them all whole. Her stomach growled as her thoughts wandered—could she ever truly coexist with others? The likelihood seemed grim, considering the ever-present urge to consume those she encountered. Love, companionship, all seemed impossible.
Her thoughts were swiftly interrupted by a voice.
"You look tired, ma'am! Are you alright?"
The voice belonged to a young woman, no older than nineteen. There was something rejuvenating about her presence, a peculiar innocence that clashed with the darkness of this wretched place. She gazed at the cannibal with curiosity, her head bowing slightly in a gesture of submission, instinctively creating a social hierarchy from their very first encounter. Her pale hands fidgeted with the hem of her bloodstained dress, the rich, metallic scent drifting through the air like an unspoken temptation.
The cannibal lifted her head slightly, staring at the woman in confusion. What was someone so seemingly pure doing in one of the darkest, deepest locations on the planet? It was suspicious.
"Shut up... I'm tired."
Her response was cold, her voice quieting as exhaustion hit her like a blow. Her body felt drained, her energy slipping away. She barely had the strength to keep her head up, the world around her blurring at the edges.
As she treated the woman with cruelty, she felt herself losing consciousness. The last sensation she remembered was the feeling of her head hitting the stone floor, its cold surface scraping against her skin. The sharp sting barely registered before darkness swallowed her whole.
Then, a rushing sensation.
Her body faintly registered movement, as if she were being carried. A foreign warmth surrounded her, contrasting against the ever-present chill of the cavern. Soon, she felt something plush and soft beneath her. A bed. Her ears rang as she forced her eyes open, only to be met with the same young woman peering over her, concern written all over her face.
The cannibal realized she had been placed in a comfortable bed, her body pleading for rest once more.
The young woman was practically pressed against her arm, her knees resting on the ground beside the bed. Clingy. It was disgusting. The visible repulsion on the cannibal's scarred face was unmistakable.
"Can you get the fuck off me? Gods, you're clinging to me like a stray animal."
Her murmured words carried an almost flustered tone, as if she were unaccustomed to interaction. Her shoulders rose slightly as the young woman continued clinging to her.
Then, suddenly, the woman attempted to stand up—but her foot slipped.
She fell backward, her head cracking against the stone floor with a sickening, hollow thud, followed by a sharp crunch, like brittle bone snapping beneath immense pressure. The eerie resonance of the impact echoed throughout the cavern, a grotesque symphony of agony and finality. A wet, gurgling sound followed, as though air were being forced through a fractured throat, mingling with the unsettling squelch of pooling blood. The silence that followed was deafening, save for the soft patter of droplets hitting the ground, thick and rhythmic.
The cannibal merely watched, entertained, as the woman's body lay still, blood pooling beneath her.
Then, the ghastly sound ceased. The bleeding stopped. The woman's fingers twitched, bent unnaturally, as though her soul had momentarily left her body before abruptly returning.
Then, as if nothing had happened, she sat up quickly.
"Oh no! Not my good dress..."
Her lip quivered as she examined her once-beautiful white dress, now stained with her own blood. The sight was almost comical.
Yet, the cannibal's gaze was not on the dress. It was on the blood. Her pupils dilated, her mouth watering as she stared at the crimson puddles.
"Can I... drink some?"
Her voice was quiet, almost reverent. She was fixated, not only on the blood but on the woman herself. What was she? Could she be exploited?
The young woman paused, her expression shifting to one of disbelief. Her face flushed slightly, though the cannibal wasn't sure if it was the blood smeared on her skin or genuine embarrassment. An eerie silence filled the room.
"...Huh?...Drink what?"
Her voice instinctively rose in pitch. Quickly, she stood up, carefully stepping away to avoid slipping on her own blood.
The cannibal remained unmoving in bed, eyes locked onto her, as if beckoning her to stay.
"I don't know whose room this is... but you're going to stay with me, right? My head still hurts, and I could faint at any moment. You'd be a bad person to leave me all alone..."
Her voice was laced with feigned weakness, exaggerated groans of pain following her words. The act was almost laughably fake.
The young woman hesitated, guilt flashing across her features. Slowly, she stepped toward the bed.
The cannibal smirked, amused by the girl's naivety. Perhaps she would have a "friend" after all.
As the night wore on, the two lay in the dimly lit chamber, the air thick with an unspoken tension. The soft rustling of fabric filled the silence as they settled beneath the heavy blankets. The cannibal, for once, did not feel the gnawing emptiness within her; perhaps it was exhaustion, or perhaps it was something else entirely. Eda, the young woman, despite the odd circumstances, found a strange comfort in the presence of her unlikely companion. Slowly, their breathing synchronized, and for the first time in a long while, both prepared to surrender themselves to sleep—one with cautious intrigue, the other with a newfound curiosity that neither dared to acknowledge just yet.