THE TALE OF THE CARNIGOR
As Written by Simon Oteg
Billions of years before men founded their first city, our tender earth was violated by those fiendish bitches…those fat satanic Slugs of Earth, which later men would call the GREAT SISTERS. Where these immortal weirdoes came from we can only guess, since the memory has passed even from the minds of the crea- tures themselves. It is known only that these foul creatures alighted upon our world and discovered a wet milieu there on which to sew the seeds of their filth.
For centuries the sisters prospered, basking in the infernal climate of our primor- dial earth, feeding upon the simple bacteria of the crust, reclining lazily upon its geographic folds and crevices….cooking the torpid gore of their organs in the sun.
It is written that the squatting and feeding of those great ghouls may have con- tinued indefinitely, were it not for a geological shift, a cooling of the temperatures. The earth , you see, was fighting against the cancer which had afflicted its crust and it ushered upon itself an ice age, which froze the arteries of the sisters and turned their smooth wet sheen to crystal ice. The Sisters to the north froze in their tracks and were buried under miles of glacial drift. Those fiends to the south squealed with rage and in a frenzied violent effort began burrowing into the crust of the earth itself. For centuries the dying beasts burrowed, creating vast wet caverns…. seeding the ground with the organic waste from their disintegrating bodies.
Such, it is written was the origin of the horrific CARNIGOR. The slugs used their blackest magic to aid them in their panicked burrowing and the world they cre- ated is washed with the evil of their secretions.
Though many of the sisters died, It is recorded that seven of those mighty turds survived… and it is from these survivors that have sprung seven great fountains of sickness: the Seven Cities of the Carnigor.
The eldest and most luxuriant of those ghouls, PESTICLE-FATTERAT, lay for years at the brink of death, exhausted by the effort of her burrowing. It is written that she had carved a path straight to the center of the earth and wrapped herself about its molten core. The soft shuddering organs of this mighty creature (which we would measure in miles) impregnated the virgin core of our earth…injecting her hideous seed into its egg. It is from this central point, from the rancid emis- sions of that blasphemous coupling that was grown the most expansive and sin- ister city in all of the Carnigor, the flesh city, the blasphemous CARNOPOLIS.
Yes Deanna, The primitive muck of ancient Carnigor was rife with possibilities and with her wicked alchemy and hideous gyrations Pesticle had birthed a living city, a city of flesh and blood, thriving and breathing…raging, deranged and per- verse. A boiling city, blistering and furious, tortured and suffering, which grew out like a fungus from the polluted heart of our planet.
The desires of this living city (this “Carnopolis”) were insatiable, and Pesticle prostrated herself to its throbbing sex organs, submitting to its cruelty, spreading its secretions deep within her awful womb. From this obscene coupling was birthed a race of ghouls…a sinister army of putrid mutants: The Muckers.
Our proud race of humans, which strut around like roosters (with their fancy sci- ences) upon the upper crust are THEMSELVES the by-product of Pesticles evil. The human race was birthed in the sinister labs of the Carnopolis, created as raw organic material for her building projects. Harvested in herds, humans were slaughtered and fed to the ravenous Carnopolis. Such was the ignoble genesis of mankind! Born into slavery and torture within the wet intestines of the Carnopo- lis, mixed into great cauldrons of human stew for the consumption and nourish- ment of that seething city.
It was the fate of the particularly fertile and well formed among the females to serve a more sinister purpose…those unfortunate souls were sent to the birthing farms…their bodies used as living vessels for the production of Pesticles min- ions. When their organs were exhausted…after years of production, they were butchered and fed to the Carnopolis.
It is written in the Carnomicon that an ancient war was waged between the Muck- ers of Pesticle and a rebellious contingent of human slaves. The uprising was brutally crushed when the sisters to the north- FUMIGUS and PHALLIGOR sent their own minions to aid Pesticle. The humans were destroyed save for a tiny contingent of survivors that managed to slip through grasp of the ghouls. The journey of these escaped slaves has become the stuff of Carnigorian legend, but suffice it to say that these brave souls escaped at last onto the outer crust and into the sunlight where they flourished and multiplied. It is from the acorn of this human tribe that has was grown all the civilizations of earth- though that history has long since been lost, dismissed as the charming folklore of savages….the primitive mythology of pagans!
Such is the nature of the Carnopolis. It is not some static decaying wasteland. It is a thriving organism which is spreading, absorbing everything in its path. Those poor fools of the Upper crust could never face the horror which lays beneath their feet, nor the sickening truth of their own history. The very core of the earth itself has become infected with disease and it cannot be long before this swelling monster shall burst forth upon the surface of the world like a ghoulish tumor, spewing its filth and death across all the puny cultures of man. There shall be a time when the demons of this place will retake what they once had and the entire
earth shall become nothing but an obscene shrine to the sickness of Pesticle and the sweltering Carnigor!
I pray only that I will have passed into the oblivion of the next world before such a blasphemous holocaust can materialize.