BLACK DEVOUR

Welcome To The Shadows

Hey there, fellow book lovers and curious black souls,

Welcome to the thrilling opening act of Black Devour.... (Though I'm actually thinking of renaming it, Echos of the Oblivion.), where the plot twists are as unpredictable as my mood swings, and the humor is as dark as my coffee.

Before we dive into this whirlwind adventure, I want to take a moment to thank you for picking up this book whether you're planning to devour every page or just dipping your toes into the first chapter, your presence here means the world to me, and I'm genuinely so so grateful for your support. I'm frankly amazed anyone willingly subjects themselves to the psychological torture contained in these pages. Truly, you're all bigger gluttons for punishment than..."nope, not going there" shudders

So, I'm Charisse. I hate unsolicited advice, small talk and invasion of personal space and I like basically anything any other girl would like.

What's in store for you within these pages? havskeuevdkshskxvdk sjshsksgsk wksgwkshwkv. Sound intriguing? You bet it does.

Didn't understand that? Don't worry, no one else did.

Now, without further ado, grab a cup of coffee (or something stronger) and let's dive in together.

☆ ☆ ☆

CHAPTER ONE

"That...doesn't.... sound like a...CAAAT!"

Jagged branches whipped across my face in stinging lashes as I tore through the dark forest. Each ragged gasp felt like inhaling shards of rusty nails coated in flaming puppy drool. Unpleasant doesn't even begin to describe it.

Every pounding step threatened to be my last as gnarled roots reached out like paid actors, aiming to grab my ankles and pull me back into the unholy abomination giving chase.

My heart was straight up jackhammering against my ribs, about to punch right through. I struggled to spit out the leaves and bugs I'd swallowed while yelling. Thorns shredded up my arms and cheeks, but the stinging wasn't even registering over the blind panic shoving me into overdrive.

Somewhere in front of me, Zelthrimir's chilly baritone echoed between the looming trees, unnervingly calm for someone fleeing an actual demon. Dude sounded as relaxed as if we were out for a midnight stroll rather than running for our lives.

"We possess finer pets in Hell. Is that how fast you can run?" His words were a low, dispassionate drawl, way too laid back.

I barely resisted retorting with something inappropriate. Partly because a) Opening my mouth might have let out the scream clawing at my throat. b) Opening my mouth would lead me to swallowing another dose of bugs, twigs and leaf salad. c) Mainly because slowing my roll for even a second felt like signing my own death warrant.

"This...is...everything I've got..." I gasped out through gritted teeth, dumping every ounce of energy into devouring ground with my pounding strides.

"Good, because then I have a chance at survival. "

The hell?!

Nuclear fear detonated within my chest with the force of a supernova, searing away the last lingering tendrils of courage. His detached words had frozen me to the core more than the eldritch horror itself.

I whipped my head around.

Huge mistake.

The thing emerged from the trees - A roiling, undulating mass of sickly gray flesh pulsing with black veins and bristling with serrated quills that gnashed together like a satanic butcher's tongs.