(30 votes) (4.87)
The future looks rather bleak for Samira, a slave girl in the desert of the Southlands. She’s prayed to the Goddess for years for some kind of respite from her life, but maybe she’s been praying to the wrong goddess?
This story is part of my original MGE setting, Darkness Prevails. (Click its tag for the others.) It is the fourth entry of the series, but can safely be read out of sequence of the others. Enjoy!
(25 votes) (4.80)
***From the Journal of Lysander, Apprentice to the Royal Archivist***
I can’t even begin to remember how long I sat there, screaming, though I do remember that shining smile in the face of the purple monster in front of me. It faltered at my cries, falling into a look of grave concern. She approached, a comely torso slithering along the lower mass of teeth, eyes, and purple slime. As she came closer, I could do nothing but scramble further backward. The bookshelf rocked precariously above us, threatening to topple over onto me, but I was in no condition to think of anything but putting as much distance in between the slithering creature and my person as I could. The Madness of Philip Howard still gripped me, for his memories latched onto my mind like the writhing tentacles of the shoggoth snaking out to ensnare me.