761: Story 761: Hymn of the Hollow 761: Story 761: Hymn of the Hollow Laughter.
It echoed through the Rotting Cathedral, swelling like a chorus of the damned.
Selene Nocturna stood amidst the carnage, her head thrown back, her lips torn in a grotesque smile.
The alchemical venom in Kruger’s blade should have burned her, should have unraveled her necrotic essence.
But she had devoured pain before—made agony her nourishnt.
She ripped the sword from her body, tossing it aside like a broken toy.
Kruger staggered back, his breath ragged.
The air around him felt heavier—as if unseen hands clutched at his throat.
“Impossible,” he muttered.
Selene grinned, tilting her head.
The wound in her side sealed itself, black veins weaving together like spider silk.
“Possible,” she corrected.
“I am not bound by the laws of n.
Your poisons, your little tricks?
They do nothing but amuse .”
Kruger clenched his fists.
He could hear them now—the whispers.
A rising, chanting murmur, like a forgotten hymn sung by rotting tongues.
The cathedral’s walls pulsed, black ichor oozing from the cracks.
Faces—hollow-eyed, skinless—ford in the stone, their mouths moving in silent agony.
The hymn was growing.
Selene stepped forward.
Her gown, still slick with her own blood, shimred with an unnatural energy.
“Tell , Kruger,” she purred, “have you ever heard the Hymn of the Hollow?”
Kruger lunged at her, but the mont his boot struck the floor, his body froze.
The shadows at his feet—they weren’t shadows anymore.
They were hands.
Clawing.
Dragging.
Kruger roared, trying to pull away, but they held firm, rooting him to the cathedral like a broken statue.
Selene sighed dramatically.
“n like you always resist.
So exhausting.”
She raised a single hand, her fingertips dripping with sickly green light.
The hymn grew louder, the faces in the walls screaming silently as the ritual neared its climax.
Kruger’s body convulsed.
His veins darkened, his breath shallowed.
The Hymn of the Hollow wasn’t just a sound.
It was a spell.
A curse.
A fate.
“Do you know what it does?” Selene asked, stepping closer, her breath like a winter’s breath against his ear.
“It strips away everything.
Your flesh, your soul, your mories… until you are nothing but a voice, singing forever in my cathedral.”
Kruger gritted his teeth—but his eyes were dimming.
His limbs were growing translucent.
“You were brave,” Selene admitted, cupping his face as the last of him flickered away.
“But bravery is such a fleeting thing.”
Kruger’s scream beca a note in the hymn.
Selene inhaled deeply, savoring the sound.
Then, with a slow smile, she turned towards the cathedral doors.
“Next.”
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