“Snow drifted through the hallways of the floating temple, and Tlachoatl shivered. His body was bloated from the fetuses inside it, his faith implants bristled with zeal. Iteration 569 was going well.
Tlachoatl scanned the corridor and swung the hungry wood in his hands. The handle chafed his skin, and its obsidian eyes blinking darkly. Ice hung from the ceiling in fields of stalactites that reflected the flashlights hovering behind Tlachoatl.”
Published in: The Dread Machine, February 2021
Publication Date: 16. February 2021