Marble Hornets Skully Novels & Stories

The smell of it—hot, metallic, wrong—hit the back of her throat and made her stomach heave. Two massive horns protruded from his skull, black as obsidian, spiralling upward like twisted, demonic antlers. Their tips glowed faintly—red-hot, as if they were forged from molten iron. They hummed with a low, almost inaudible vibration, like blades fresh from the forge, hungry for flesh. His eyes burned. Not gold. Not amber. But a violent, hungry fire. They were pits of molten metal, bright enough that for one dizzying second, she thought she saw shapes moving in them—cities collapsing, forests blazing, stars winking out.