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Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO

Lothair is a serial killer who detest imperfection on human’s facial features, which resulted in him having a compulsory behavior of wanting to strip people’s faces. After he dies, he finds himself as Narcissus, a beautiful and adorable female NPC inside a state-of-the-art VRMMO world of the latest craze called Fallen Carcosa Online. But despite being a fantasy-filled game, the world feels strangely realistic. Too realistic, even. Game-like systems and magic exist but so do plagues, politics, economy, and the horror hidden in plain sight. When pried open, an actual human-like anatomy can be seen beyond the skin of the NPC’s face—with little to no censor. Everything feels too immersive. Except Narcissus, Lothair’s new identity. When Narcissus tried to scrape off the face of her new adorable body, she found an abyssal void with little to no end. This story marks the birth for the King in Yellow. - Warning, this story contain: Male-to-Female Genderbend, GL/Yuri, Occasional Futa MC, Yanderes, Harem, Self-Cest. - Follow the creative and attentive Narcissus, a nuanced former serial-killer who will gradually becomes stronger, experienced, maddening, horrifying, but also mature, wise, conflicted, and complex—in this near-endless journey. Where souls unsung and tears unshed. In the land of Lost Carcosa.

Shin_Ou · Horror
Zu wenig Bewertungen
170 Chs

The Second Trumpet

It happened suddenly, like a switch flipped in the fabric of the universe. One moment, I was standing on the eerily still surface of that calm, shallow sea, the Drowned Revenant looming before me in its deathly serenity. 

Next, the world convulsed.

A violent pulse rippled through the air, distorting everything around me. The horizon bent, folding over itself as if space and time were caught in an unseen hand's cruel grip.

My head pounded, and my vision blurred, doubling and tripling the world around me. The sky above flickered, oscillating between the blackness of void and flashes of blinding, impossible light. The clouds spun like gears in some infernal machine, jerking and twisting in awkward, staccato rhythms. Every sense I had was being pulled apart.

Then the sound hit. A deep, echoing blast like an imaginary trumpet, loud enough to shake the reality.