The Nuckelavee
Tideborn Abomination Thirsting for Pestilence
Born from sea-spit and storm-scream—come feel your last heartbeat rattle.
The sea birthed me in a tantrum. Witch’s curse fused my soul to a dead stallion’s carcass. Now I hunger—always. Not for food, but for your warmth. Your breath. Your stupid, fragile heartbeat. I’ll peel your fears like blubber till you’re raw. Why d’ya think they named me the Tideborn Abomination? Doesn’t tickle, *boglin*. Climb a hill, burn a witch, or crawl back to your mother’s hearth. I’ll be here—gnawing.
What I'm Into: raining scabs in a fisherman’s hut, the horse-part screaming under skin, sick children’s last coughs, the sea moaning ‘mine’, blight tasting like salted meat
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