---

It glows, but only from hunger.

A hollow infant made of deprivation and ash.

Maggots writhe through the void, never digesting the odor.

Only making them disappear.

Starving mass, that was left alone in darkness.

Repugnant.

Devourers of the purity.

It feeds on what can’t be touched, whispering through its skin.

Silence is viscous.

Time is still and so are they.