The Gasping Ghost
Corpses left behind, withered husks. Eyes yanked back into sockets like fish on hooks. Skin like light blue flimsy film, brittle and shrunk. Lips pulled and puckered forward, jaws dislocated by force. The pigeon chested torso violently crushed in. The rib cage having compacted the organs, the throat filled with a mixed thick bio paste. Like having been crushed and pulled through the throat.
Other bodies are polar opposites. Only gory explosions remain, pink stains upon the ground. Upper torsos that have had lungs brutally explode within. Heads ruptured, eyes burst, teeth that have shot out of the skull. Flaps of skin litter in her wake.
A dry rasping inward roar, like a reverse hurricane. Every noise is consumed by the sound, dragged kicking and screaming to the undead source. She stands within the center, her head tilted far, far back. Lips puckered and pulling in. Her chest ballooned to unnatural proportions as elephant size lungs swallow the oxygen around her. Her overlong arms ending in claws dug deep into the ground to stabilize her. Birds are brought out of flight desperately struggling in vain. Small animals are laid low by the essence thief.
Her throat and cheeks swell as she blasts a burst of collected air forward. Shredding, ripping and butchering everything within her way.
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