“The Meriphim monster is not a cryptid,” I said. “It’s a machine.”
On the evening after the night of the full moon, the messenger who had been sent to find help approached the Third Village with a small force from one of the monarchs of a nearby land. They encountered the eerie sight of dead bodies on the road before they reached the village. The skin of each body was drained of all color and pocked with lesions, the limbs bent unnaturally, and each face was frozen in anguish.
When the force of soldiers reached the village and dismounted, they were greeted by a most awesome and terrible sight. The dead lay everywhere. On the streets, at the thresholds of homes, by the well. The bodies were gruesomely bloated, pale, and the limbs were constricted in awkward angles and poses. Most were covered in cobwebs.