Shadow Slave: The Forgotten Spawn
Chapter 1: The Womb of Dread
The Dream Realm was not a place for birth. It was a place for ruin. A realm of nightmares, forged from the remnants of shattered dreams and crawling with monstrosities too vile for the waking world.
Deep in the dark recesses of this desolate expanse, a seed of black ichor pulsed with life. It clung to the cavern wall like a parasitic growth, its surface shifting and writhing as though something trapped inside sought escape. The air around it crackled with a low, predatory hum—a sound that carried no voice but spoke of hunger, despair, and something far worse: potential.
And then, the seed burst.
A torrent of inky liquid poured forth, pooling on the ground and coalescing into shape. It was not a birth that celebrated life. It was a creation born of rejection, pain, and forgotten will. Slowly, the liquid pulled itself together, forming limbs that rippled with sinewy shadow.
Its form was monstrous yet incomplete. Jagged armor-like plates jutted from its back, forming a grotesque silhouette. Its face was featureless save for two glowing orbs of molten gold that served as eyes, their brightness a stark contrast to the rest of its body. It had no name, no identity. Yet, in the moment of its emergence, a thought rippled through its fragmented consciousness like a whisper from some unseen source:
You are an aberration.
The creature tilted its head, as though listening to the unseen voice that taunted it. It could feel the weight of the Dream Realm pressing down upon it. It wasn't merely alive—it shouldn't be alive. Not here.
And yet it was.
The creature stepped forward on long, taloned limbs, its movements smooth but unnervingly deliberate. With every step, the shadows around it seemed to ripple, as though recognizing their kin. It understood nothing of its creation, only that the abyss had given it form, and now it was bound to it.
It did not hunger like the others. It did not mindlessly seek prey to devour. Instead, it wandered, observing the labyrinthine expanse of the Dream Realm with a faint but growing curiosity. Other nightmare creatures passed by, their shapes grotesque and alien, but none approached. They felt it—something about this being was wrong, even by their standards.
Far above, the sky churned with swirling black clouds, occasionally pierced by jagged streaks of violet lightning. The creature looked up, the golden glow of its eyes flickering like embers in a storm.
It didn't know what it was or why it existed, but it felt something deep within. A purpose buried beneath layers of instinct and shadow.
And so it moved forward into the darkness, unaware of the fates it would one day alter.
The creature that should not exist was alive.
And the Dream Realm itself seemed to shudder.