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Sep 2026
Added
Goetic Ghoul
Made for TC
Verified Creator
Warbands
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Creator: Mike Utsumi
Description
"Is Leftenant Merryweather acting strange to you?"
"We're all at the end of our rope here, go relieve him"
"Yes Sarge..."
- The final known words of Private McTavish
An unfortunate soul with goetic potential is snatched away in the night, & the only reward for surviving the horrors of the journey to Hell is hellfire itself.
Consumed by flames that sear off flesh & crack bones but knit the soul to the corpse, these poor creatures' very marrow burns with neverending suffering.
The blackened skeleton is clothed in alchemically grown muscle tissue, strange devices implanted in vat-grown organs, all stuffed in the hollows of its body.
& for what end?
To create a goetic ghoul.
The ghouls stalk the battlefield looking for stragglers & loners, ambush them, & flay their skin from their bodies. They dress themselves in their grissly trophies not for sport, but to create a goetic glamour, to steal the identity of their victim.
& once they have a stolen identity they work their way up the chain of command until they can reach a high officer, assassinate them, & receive the only blessing afforded to them...
Massive amounts of Hell's most effective drugs blast through their system on a kill, flooding their burning neurons with endorphins.
But eventually the drugs will stop working, Hell will lose what hold they have upon the ghoul & it'll be reduced to a wailing, berserk slasher until the fire within their bones finally consumes the tattered remnants of their soul & all that's left is the echo of their tortured howl upon the ephemeral background radiation of the battlefield.
"We're all at the end of our rope here, go relieve him"
"Yes Sarge..."
- The final known words of Private McTavish
An unfortunate soul with goetic potential is snatched away in the night, & the only reward for surviving the horrors of the journey to Hell is hellfire itself.
Consumed by flames that sear off flesh & crack bones but knit the soul to the corpse, these poor creatures' very marrow burns with neverending suffering.
The blackened skeleton is clothed in alchemically grown muscle tissue, strange devices implanted in vat-grown organs, all stuffed in the hollows of its body.
& for what end?
To create a goetic ghoul.
The ghouls stalk the battlefield looking for stragglers & loners, ambush them, & flay their skin from their bodies. They dress themselves in their grissly trophies not for sport, but to create a goetic glamour, to steal the identity of their victim.
& once they have a stolen identity they work their way up the chain of command until they can reach a high officer, assassinate them, & receive the only blessing afforded to them...
Massive amounts of Hell's most effective drugs blast through their system on a kill, flooding their burning neurons with endorphins.
But eventually the drugs will stop working, Hell will lose what hold they have upon the ghoul & it'll be reduced to a wailing, berserk slasher until the fire within their bones finally consumes the tattered remnants of their soul & all that's left is the echo of their tortured howl upon the ephemeral background radiation of the battlefield.
