Submission (#1775) Approved

The death of a monster gets gruesome so just be warned.

The rhythmic crunch of the constant sprinkle of ash-snow underfoot was the only sound to break the morbid tranquillity of the silence encapsulating a dead-still forest. It had been a few months since The Darkness had consumed the planet; those that were alive were few and far between and many of those that remained had become one of The Lost, monstrosities that were once normal organisms but had been corrupted into beings of consumption. They killed and devoured everything in their past, mindless beasts. Gilded Guardian trudged along, searching for a place sufficient enough live for a while. Bebe carried Galth on one shoulder and rested his maul on the other. The battle for survival was grating, the pain only eased by each other’s company. They yearned for the comfort of their past life, for the ease and social freedom. Their will was weary which is why when they heard Michael Bublé's It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas rather than question the abnormality of it flowing through the air they wandered in awe at the perfect joy in the nostalgia of the sense of Christmas. As they walked images appeared to them vividly. They could imagine sitting by an extravagant tree unwrapping various gifts with their loved ones, all their desires being met. As they wandered closer the music continued to get more captivating, the feeling of pleasant warmth pushing in further and further through their bodies. As they stumbled forward blind it rose from its pit, one of The Lost. A grotesque aberration, its deformed body covered in mouths and various bone bladed limbs. A thousand legs struggled beneath it, its mass slithering over to the unsuspecting Gilded Guardian. It towered over them, dozens of hungry demonic tongues writhed in the air ready for the taste of flesh. It gnashed as it heavily plodded roaring with sadistic pleasure all the while its head mouth sound eloquent flowing melodies. As it lunged, suddenly it froze. A spear tip shone coated in blood extruding from its chest. It was then hurled onto the floor revealing a beautiful regal Terra standing behind it. She was an incredible sight to behold: a synthetic terra with golden armour, huge feathered wings and a tail which ended with the head of a cobra who’s blue tongue lashed the air. She walked over to the Lost thing and ripped off its head, pulling out its spinal column with it before tossing it aside. Light headedly Bebe stared in awe at their saviour as she spoke.
“I am Athena. It would be proper for you to bow.”