I do not own Worm or Darkest Dungeon.

A Star Spawned Horror

Stars.

Gleaming jewels littering the darkness. The swirl of purple galaxies and infinitesimal decorations against the inky blackness. Save for one thing marring this chaotic perfection.

A singular person. Clad in a pair of worn trousers, held in place by a myriad of chains that wrapped around his body. On his shoulders a tattered patchwork of cloth that served as his shroud. On his wrists were manacles with a length of chain still attached. On his half-shaven head, a large letter A was branded into his thick, weathered skin. Tired. His limbs heavy. Still, he kept running.

A lone survivor. His party was on their way back to a hamlet, sheltered by a cove. The exploratory mission was a success and their leader was eager to return. With their torchlight simmering down to its last dregs, they were suddenly pulled into this vista of emptiness. What they encountered, they could not put into words. The monstrosities fell on them with a hungry relish.

Their healer died first. A man of a darker faith. One of the many hooked tentacles cut the candle he carried so protectively. He fell like a marionette severed from its strings.

The archer fell next. A sudden bloodlust overcame her when he fell. She charged at the thing, intent on using her ranged weapon of war as a bludgeon. A horror she ignored as she ran at the shambling abomination carved her heart out.

The party leader fell too. The old man took the brunt of most of the wounds sustained in the mission. As stalwart as he was, when the healer fell, the monsters wore him down even as he tried to pull back the enraged woman. Eventually, the hooks and the gaseous biles took its toll.

The survivor fled. One by one he saw them fall. His sanity finally snapped and he ran. Oh, how far he ran. He knew not how far, nor how long. He must move, for they will come for him. The tentacles. The red blinking eyes. The gaping maws. He. Must. Run. And then he stopped. And he fell. He knew not how long. He felt his body crash into something. He cried out in pain as it jolted through his body like lightning. The darkness suddenly gave way to tangible candlelight. He heard a gasp. He dragged his arms and body around to look up.

A boy... or a man... stared at him with fright-filled eyes and mouth agape. Clad in orange, he was holding a book with strange symbols in his hand.

"Wh- who the fuck are you!?" he stammered out.

There was no reply as the survivor rolled to get to his knees, smearing the chalk on the floor. His breath was heavy, his aching muscles screaming for rest.

"H-hey, answer the quest..." the question dying in his throat as the boy looked up, his eyes going wide. A multitude of hooked appendages bore into his skin and his skull as they lashed out. A shriek was the only sign he was ever there as he was dragged into oblivion. The swirling darkness collapsed on itself, leaving the survivor to his fate.

He whimpered as he peered into the darkness. He curled up in the center of the round of candles, scared by the darkness of night. Eventually, exhaustion caught up to him and he closed his eyes, becoming dead to the world.

Wood rattled as the door was hit. At first slowly, then a series of sharp knocks, with the occasional shout. The noise was slow to rouse him, but in the end, the survivor stirred. The chains clinked softly as he rose from his stupor and glanced around, noting that everything seemed a little brighter. White wood on one side, then the white paneled door. The walls were strangely smooth, covered in some dry yellow dye. As he turned to get to his knees, he yelped in surprise and fell back. He scuttled back a bit as he took in the yellow glowing eyes in terror. They were huge, with some cloth covering the giant face. He let out a whimper, all the while the pounding of his beating heart matched the pounding of the door.

The entry to the room slammed open and an Oriental-looking girl walked in and shouted, "You bastard! How long do I have to wait… for… you…" She looked round at the ridiculously messy room and the whimpering mass in front of her.

"What the…" she muttered aloud as she went past him and drew the curtains.

He gasped and fumbled to cover his eyes at the sudden intensity.

She turned around and glared at him. "Okay, forgive my language, but who the fuck are you? Where's Kenny?"

He looked up at her and stared into her blue eyes blankly. He then turned to the window and got to his knees with the utmost joy and gratefulness, muttering whatever litanies he knew and clumsily giving thanks to the Light.

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "He is pranking me again, isn't he? I swear the idiot is driving me up the wall," she muttered in frustration.

Opening her eyes, she addressed him, "I am going down to the cafeteria to get some breakfast and when I come back, I want to see that idiot here. I am fed up with his tricks and if he doesn't want credit for this joint paper, he can shove it. You tell him that, do you understand?" Getting only ignorance from him, she threw her hands up in exasperation and stormed out of the room.

His Rambling Notes:-

Ruin has come to this party. This group of four. The mission was successful. However, they were dragged away into the darkness by an antediluvian horror. One by one, men and women that came in defense of humanity, they fall. Save one. Tortured and reclusive, this man is more dangerous than it seems. This man, driven to insanity, finds himself in the strangest of places. Could this madman recover, despite being far from any sanitarium? Or will he fall, in the end, to a self-afflicted horror?

In the end... we shall see... for only time will tell... in the twilight morn.

PS: My first time delving into Worm. I've only had the wiki to direct me to parts of the web novel that I feel relevant to the character the survivor is interacting with, so, sorry if I made any mistakes. And please, do leave review, would you kindly?