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Entity: Meatsuit Worms are clearly creatures of The Flesh, but their ability to puppeteer others and hollowing out their insides suggests a partial connection to The Stranger. (Possibly hybrid?)
A gurgle of agony bubbles out of a liquified throat. The eyes of it's owner, slowly dimming a few feet away, could only watch as his throat dissolved. The peach color of his skin mixing with muscle-pink and blood-red. His body had been slowly disolving into a puddle for several minutes by this point, each moment of which made the twisted monstrosity kneeling before him shiver with pleasure. The man's sick terror filling it with ancient joy. The Sculptor's fun had come to an end, however, and so she frowned as her limp nudged the puddle that was once a young man. The warmth of a living body had departed, and she could tell that her victim had finally died. She pushed the large, mishapen appendage (most humans would not recognize it as a hand) into the puddle and gently stirred the liquid flesh, watching as the redish goops slid through pale goopey skin. All around the bones, those that had not melted, peeked through the sludge, flashing bits of white.
The sight made her grin again, as she grasped an ivory rod from the mess, pulling it loose with the same ease one might with meat that had been left in a slow cooker for hours. She did so love the feeling of oozing viscera, flowing between her fingers. The Sculptor leaned forward and allowed her tongue, just as warped and stretched as the rest of her flesh, to wipe it clean. She soon stopped, slurping her tongue back into her mouth and gazing at her prize.
"Too bad..." The words came out in sounds more akin to wet meat than a human voice. But, then...she hadn't been human in a long, long time... "I had hoped this one would last a bit longer. Ah well..."
And so the elderly fleshcraft rose, placing the bone in a sachel on her hip, the bag clearly sewn from human skin. In fact, that victim was still alive. His mouth open in an enternal scream, eyes still blinking. He was to suffer for all eternity. The Sculptor glanced up, noting the moon's descent. The dawn was approaching, and she needed to find shelter for the day. The thought made her frown. Even though she knew that being seen by a crowd was more trouble than it was worth (The Scupltor didn't need another police hound of The Hunt on her tail!), she still wanted to keep moving. The constant beacon of The Boneturner's Tale called to her, pulling her closer and closer to the place those thieves had taken it. They would suffer for delaying her decade long quest to reclaim HER BOOK!!
But the Scupltor was patient...she would do this right...
As she slunk through the alleyways and into a nearby abandoned building, she hear muttered voices from around the corner. Moving with a care, only seen in beings who live long lives out of sight, she peered at a group of homeless humans, huddled around a fire. She smiled thinking of the fun she could have, given how isolated they were, when she felt something against her sensitive skin. She looked down and saw a worm squirming over her foot.
And that was when she had a flash of
There...sat four squirming fleshy tubes, razor sharp teeth poking out of lamprey like mouths. Their bloody dripping skin glistened in the distant firelight, as beady black eyes reflected her own joyous Hunger!
The noises had drawn attention as well, and she felt a laugh building in her throat. The Sculptor walked out of the shadows and laughed loudly, a sickening combination of sqishing flesh and shuddering breath. The poor souls barely had time to scream before she tossed her newest creation at them.
Her new pets obeyed the instincts they retained and burrowed. This time, though, it was into the flesh and not the dirt! Blood and pain, filled the air, and the screaming so cut short. The Scupltor watched, a twisted look of pride and wonder on her horrific face. She could feel the way they hollowed out thier new shells, and only 4 minutes after she had tossed them, the vessels rose.
"How may we serve you, Mistress?" One of them, formerly a withered old woman asked. The Sculptor reached into her sachel and found an ID card she had scavenged from the man in the forest. The one the thieves had been working with! On it, was a logo, a peacock whose tailfeathers were spread to reveal many eyes (CURSED, WATCHER! SPINELESS BEHOLDING!) In the center, was the three faces of Hecate. She showed them the address on the back of the card.
"Go to this place.." She ordered. "Find the book. Learn what you can. Do this, and when I arrive..." Teeth seemed to sprout from at least three different oroffices as she grinned with hunger. "We Shall Feast!"
The Meatsuit Worms grinned hungrily back at her.
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