The ritual chamber had become a nightmare of flesh and corruption.
Every man and woman in the circle had stopped being human.
Their bodies were no longer recognizable as people. The pregnant women's bellies had swollen to impossible sizes — massive, dark, pulsing orbs that hung low and heavy between their thighs, stretching their skin so tight it cracked in long, glowing black veins. The men's cocks remained buried deep inside them, but their bodies were twisting away from humanity. Their faces elongated, jaws stretching into fanged maws, eyes turning to glowing crimson voids. Their skin split open in dozens of places, black blood squirting out in thick, rhythmic pulses that fed the growing magic circle.
King Arthur and Queen Horae stood at the front, still joined in the most depraved way possible.
