On Your Mortal Body

It tears into your arm and sups on your tendons. It drinks, gorging itself on heart-blood and memories. It leaves your soul shriveled and it demands more.

Sharp teeth dig into your soft liver, the bites shredding and slurping.

And you can feel the corruption seep through your body, blackening your heart and drying your lungs. Cold sweat drips from your shivering body, your nails have turned yellow and brittle from the filth.

You have lost [1] Health

Your Health is now: 3 – Scratches and Bruises

You wake, weakened and sick. The cabin spins around you, your fevered body too weak to stand. A coughing fit rocks you down to the mattress and upright again. And the void in your stomach tastes like bile.

Your body, your very being, struggles to hold on to your grave-clothed soul.