Rated M for graphic descriptions and murderous things/thoughts.

I told you eventually I'd get something up that isn't SH4. Eventually. Incubus has got to be my most favorite SH monster ever. (I don't get you fangirls and Pyramid Head, honestly.) (I'm looking at you, Kim.)

Just something I whipped up after daydreaming. Somehow I thought it'd be longer...oh well. Caprine is my new favorite word.


Deity

Yes, this was supposed to happen.

A beautiful creation of emotion. Did it not truly show the corruption in everything? Everything was connected by mere bones and rotting muscles, useless, sick flesh. Knobby and gangly it rose from the crouched incubator, watching the human beneath fold away into nothingness beneath cloven feet. Spreading its wings, sparsely covered with greasy feathers, it opened its body to the world, released from the fetal position. Rearing back, it arched and felt the air around it, feeling the makeshift placenta trickle down its limbs and release the rest of its bonds. Its dry, cracked breasts thrust outward from the sheer, tainted delight it felt, the breasts barely held together by a ribcage that protected cancerous lungs and a heart that pumped blood out to no vessel, the blackness of the liquid dripping down to its exposed pelvis, pooling at its withered uterus. Such joy! Such vibrancy! It parted its lips and emitted an endless, shrill shriek that rumbled from its near-human neck all the way through its twisted, hollow caprine head. It quivered in glee and took in the dark world around that now belonged to it. It felt it. It was god.

A woman laughed in delight, a horrid screech that flattened the ears of the creation, the great deity. Its dark eye sockets fixated on her.

Her. That's right. It did not matter that she was the key in the creation's birth, it did not matter that she was laughing along in near ecstasy to its arrival. It remembered, yes, it remembered everything. And the ear-shattering cackle she belted out of her mouth only made the creature remember more vivaciously.

The hate. Do you remember the hate?

It remembered. And it hated, just like it was born to do. It hated, and it screamed in anger, and the darkness fled from the crimson glow.

The woman was no more. There was a single flash of fear and confusion in her eyes before the deity released its hatred, and the laughter stopped, replaced with a scream as red bolts of lightning ravaged her, sending her raggedy formal clothes up in vicious flames. A horrible stench emanated from the heat, and she burned, convulsing with the last struggles of life. The flames ate away at her dress and frock, exposing pitiful nudity that soon too singed away to black, smoldering meat.

Such pleasure! Such feeling!

But oh, the others did not share it. There were two men, one of them in a gray suit splattered lightly with blood. He was staggering in disgust and utter fear, holding up the brief case to his chest as if to protect himself. The deity watched, waited, knowing him for being a reckless coward at the feet of god. And coward he was, he turned to flee. The other man next to him started in shock as the one in the gray suit began to run, but he did not move. The deity glared at the coward, and sure enough—whether by misfortune or guided force from the creation—he tripped and fell, cutting his forehead on the rusty chain link floor. It laughed, raising the pitch of its shriek. Soon it would deal with him, sink its blunt molars into the tender flesh of his belly, devouring his cowardice. But not now, all good things come in time. The other man had to be punished first.

It hissed in anger. This wasn't just any man, as it glared menacingly at him standing defiantly in his blood soaked clothes, fear in his expression but not his limbs. He was That Man. He was the Banisher. He was the Corrupted without Corruption. He was the Apocalypse. He was the Devil called Gabriel. He was the End and why, why? Because he simply Was, because he chose his fate, because he was the opposite of the deity's hatred.

Hatred! The creation glowed crimson. Hatred!!

It had to kill him, for what he Was. It had to kill, had to kill, had to kill.

He was the Damned. He was the Survivor. But the hatred flowed, because ultimately, he was the one thing the deity could truly, utterly hate, he was nothing but a mere man and that is why the hideous god would destroy him and everything he knew. He was Purgatory. He was Death. He was Nothing, he was Grace, he was Torturous, he was Loving, he was Doom, he was everything, everything ever because he simply was—

BANG!

Daddy...