The Monument Coming up over the rise, we finally saw it: the black glass obelisk jutted from the ground like a rotten tooth lodged into the mouth of this world. It felt wrong. Greasy oppressive energy radiated outwards in all directions and my companions and I struggled to keep from wretching with every step closer to this abomination. Even the vacant dark silica that stretched outward from it, surreal in both the depth of color and the sound it made when walked upon, seemed to be warning us to turn upon our heels and run. Yet, now close to the structure, there was a seed in the back corners of each of our minds that recognized the dark power, and grew each moment in proximity to it. Each would surely be tempted as I was, turning covetous in the desire for that rawness; that promise of potent force. Later, their screams of desire and betrayal would accompany the enveloping arms of my surreptitious blade, now openly wielded against them. Gods be damned, I would have this power for my own.
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stark
obsidian
endearing
