127: Slaying a deity (2)

Inside the roofless church, the atmosphere was heavy with a palpable sense of dread and foreboding. The interior, once presumably a place of worship and sanctity, was now a grotesque tableau of darkness and desolation. Shadows clung to the walls like thick, tangible smoke, undulating softly as if breathing. The pews were shattered, scattered about in disarray, their wood splintered and darkened by rot. Cobwebs hung like tattered veils from the remaining arches, and the air was thick with the smell of dampness and decay. The ground was littered with the remnants of what might have been rituals or offerings, now unrecognizable and covered in a fine layer of dust and ash.