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Zar'thun : The Hunger

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Nenicirene's picture
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Hell is a barren, worthless place. You pick at the flows of the universe, barely eking out enough to survive, forced to fight off your own kind to live on. Not her world, though. It is a dream given form. Food drips from everywhere, and the people who live there shape it into weapons and hurl it each other. All you have to do is snap it out of the air. She calls you up to feed you. She wants you to lick the delicious essence others drape on her soul, and tear off the strands that others wind around themselves. She takes the essence back from you, but it is a pittance. With every breath you gorge yourself, and it is sweet and rich. A single day there tides you over for a week at a time in the barren Hell that is your home. She does not call you often, but it is enough. After all, one cannot feast every day.