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Sink-hole

The Imperial city was a sprawling metropolis that had been spreading out as steadily as cancer. The creeping growth paved the landscape with eviscerated human remains.  The concrete was a composite mashed from a million bodies. Proud towers were built with the bones,  that were carefully sanded and polished until they shined like ivory.
The hordes converged on the helpless capital. The banners of the armies were united under a single flag, a fluttering tribute to death. The city’s defenses were levies against the flood. It was only a matter of time before they spilled over the top in a torrent of blood.
Desperate people tried to escape with their families, but the noose was already too tight. The black-clad death squads descended on the fleeing women and children like a ravenous swarm. Bleating like lambs, they were enveloped, and when the black mass dispersed, there was nothing left but heaps of flesh.
Just when annihilation seemed imminent, the marauders vanished. The citizens were elated. The siege was over, and the capital had survived! Celebrations were planned by the urban nobility, who were now already remembering themselves as heroes during the slaughter.
The citizens gathered to watch the self-proclaimed saviors of the imperium receive their just rewards.
Drowned out by the clattering hooves and marching feet, no one could hear the sounds of tearing and snapping. The human remains that paved the avenues were decaying into a soft mush. It gave way beneath their feet, and the ground opened up it a great gash.
The noble procession was swallowed up by the fleshy sinkhole, but the chasm wouldn’t stop growing. The temples, citadels, and towers all disappeared into the jagged fissure and into the putrid geyser of blood.

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