Information

Venethrax has a minion!

the Defeye

Venethrax
Legacy Name: Venethrax

The

Graveyard Telenine
Owner:

Paula

Age: 7 years, 9 months, 2 weeks

Born: June 29th, 2016

Adopted: 1 year, 9 months, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: July 4th, 2022

This pet has been nominated for the Pet Spotlight!

Statistics

Level: 48
Strength: 118
Defense: 117
Speed: 117
Health: 118
HP: 118/118
Intelligence: 34
Books Read: 34
Food Eaten: 67
Job: Tombstone Cleaner

CREDITS

Profile template (c)

helix (get yours here);
Free background from Wallpapers.Net;
Overlay by

dalice;
Story by

Paula!

“It is an ancient legend, this one. It isn’t very much known if it is all a made up story coming from the head of anonymous people, or if there was truly something there that got it spread.

If you ask any older person about it, they’ll tell you about the cadaverous beast that roams the cemetery late at night. It is a wolflike demon, or a corpse of one, that digs open the graves of the dead interrupting their eternal rest. It feeds on their remains for it lives the unbearable agony of rotting decay – the beast needs to consume the dead so it can still feel alive.

The beast wasn’t born like that, obviously, but its origins are uncertain – heck, its own existance is uncertain. After all, it is just a scary story told to terrify younglings of cemeteries, you know, because of that morbid trend of teenagers breaking into cemeteries at midnight to drink wine and be play gothics.

I mean... No chances the legend could be true. Right?”

💀

I used to believe every fairy tale, every story I was told. I sure loved those and people loved telling me too, as I was a great listener or so I was told. I only wish I could go back to those times I'd sit by my mother's paws and she'd come up with any tale that would, later, make me sleep and dream the most beautiful dreams. I believed the super heroes and the sea creatures, the flying guardians and the evil monsters.

I would never have believed though if she were to tell me I was going to, one day, become one of those monsters myself.

I was there living my ordinary life, like any ordinary being. Telenines can be big and scary but I was always a polite guy – in fact, I soon learned the joys of the vegetarian world and I was hopefull veganism would be an option soon enough, because the taste of meat, cooked or raw, wouldn't strike my fancy at all. I did not miss its taste, specially not when everybody adored me for being that nice, that friendly. Spotlight on my head whenever I got to somewhere with my green juice and vegan jerky can, people were friendly. They weren't afraid of my fangs or my bulky body, they actually approached and do you know what a delight that is for someone who grew up as lonely as I did? It's immeasurable. It's the feeling of pure happiness and gratitude to being there, living that life at that moment. I had friends, true friends! Not just my mother and grandfather, but other people from any size and color and smell.

I was happy.

I'm unsure what day it was, when something stroke me like lightning. Can't remember, but I felt a weird buzz go around my body as I stepped outside the line of some vegan food truck. Nobody else felt anything weird, I just tripped on my own self and carried on, truly believing it was nothing. But something felt different inside me, I couldn't sleep that night and the agony went on for a few days, heck!, at least a week if I remember correctly. My appetite was gone, I felt bloated all the time that week. Eventually I felt weaker and weaker, and weaker...

💀

Nowadays I know it was my stomach filling itself with my very own body. Every fiber of my body was shaking and trembling and I felt an enormous anxiety growing with each day until it wasn't there anymore. My heart suddenly stopped in my sleep. My mother seeing me languished and stone cold had no other choice but to bury me.

I was conscious the whole time.

I couldn't move. I could only feel as they threw my body to the grave and the thick dark earth would embrace me as I slowly disappeared to my mother and friends' teary eyes. I could feel as the bugs and larvae ate my flesh, walked around my bones. It hurt at first, but then it was just the same old tingle here and there. If I could scratch it would make it bearable. My body felt lighter by the day, and the panic I was feeling for not being able to move and see and fell all of that, it eventually passed. One thing though that kept feeling heavier with each passing day I was six feet under was my hunger. At first I thought it was something about the bugs and other things running free in there, but it was too familiar to that same old hunger I knew when I was alive. And it wouldn't stop getting bigger and bigger, the crushing starvation and the impossibility to do anything about it.

And then, I was able to move. I woke up to a numb feeling on my paws and realized I could move them, despite the heavy earth above. That desperation got back to my muscles, and I began to dig like one never digged before – at least not if they didn't have to make their way out of their death bed. I reached surface and savored the thin air of a cold midnight. It was like I was alive once more, a second chance at life.
Well... My flesh had been eaten, my bones were exposed. My joints were squeaky and my eyes were long gone, I certainly wasn't heading back to my little senseless life, not anymore. I was hungry, craving for meat.

💀

It was a pain to do so, you know, the killing. But I just couldn't help myself, I had no control over my rotting body. The only thing I knew was that hunger was taking the whole lot of me with it and I needed the blood, the flesh, the viscera. And by killing and eating and digesting, I learned that my own body would regenerate its parts – not that I would go back to what I was eventually, I think that it'd take too many kills for that to happen. How many bodies I'd have to eat, how many more people to kill... Innocent people that had nothing to do with my cursed being.

That's how I decided to look for the dead, like myself. It took some time, yes, to regain some control. Some, not all, please note that I can't starve myself to another death. But yeah I roam the cemeteries and violate the graves of the dead, in hopes of some flesh and bones to gnaw on. I know, I know, it is still a terrible thing to do. But at least I don't need to kill anyone. Hopefully that will help me make friends again?

I wish...