From out of the deepest, darkest black of the sky the demon-god came. Born of the filth from the dregs of the Abyss, nurtured with the milk of all that was tainted and evil and vile, He came with the sound of a million hissing vipers, a million buzzing insects, a million rustlings of arachnid limbs. An image too horrible to imagine, too sickening to ponder, emerged from the veil of cloud.
Raphian, the Storm God, the Destroyer of Men’s Souls, slithered out of the swirling mass of sky. His long, leathery neck bent and twisted. The slavering gap of His mouth opened to reveal row upon row of sharp, pointed teeth that clicked together as the giant maw of His mouth opened and closed. A thin drool of noxious phosphorescent green fluid dripped onto the desert sand and hissed as it struck, bubbling, boiling.
The triangular green head that resembled a viper’s glistened with glowing scales the color of a dead man’s flesh; the beady red eyes flashed the firelight of evil so immense, so infinite, that those who looked into them were lost, falling to the sand, their minds gone forever. A forked tongue shot out of the hellish green mouth. |
