“With a detonation that dashed rocks and huge sods of rain-sodden soil bursting in every direction, the ground behind the monastery seemed at first to be giving birth to some kind of rounded hill, as though I were witnessing in the short space of mere seconds the geological outcome of centuries: a small mountain emerging purposefully out of the ground. The next thing I noticed was the sides - the sides that were moving, heaving, breathing! Still, it wasn’t until the demonic face of it appeared that I realized I was seeing the humped, bristled back of that ungodly conjuration. The face it bore was that of a gargantuan hog!

And yet, though that was my first thought upon seeing it, it was so much more than just that, so much worse! There were too many teeth, too many hooks and horns, its jaws bristled and barbed and jutted by tusks, its pallid, smoking snout writhing with black hair that seemed to be separately, insidiously alive and dancing in the deluging rain. Dark, scaly skin surrounded glowing eyes like obsidian-sloped volcanos in the face of an almighty Underworld Un-God. Over its shoulders sprouted and stretched black, web-skin wings more massive than the canvases a sail fleet could account for, and those wings extended to blot out all the heavy-keening heavens - all but for the Blood Cloud above the Beast which still floated halo-like above the Demons birthplace, and which seemed to me the volitant reservoir of every wound ever suffered in the world.”


Avalon Brantley, The House of Silence
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The House of Silence The House of Silence by Avalon Brantley
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