In the half-light of a decaying city, a nexus of despair festered within the forsaken sewers, echoing with an ancient, malevolent murmur. This sound, an amalgamation of rhythmic desires and wretched notes, fed ravenously upon the prevalent fear above ground, unnoticed by the oblivious inhabitants of the sun-blasted world.
From this abyss, two grotesque beings emerged, birthed from the world’s desolation. Named once by the unholy whispers of the pit, they were known as Badger and Scrounge — manifestations devoid of comprehension, for their very essence transcended the limits of human language.
As they ascended from the putrid mire, a ghastly symphony cascaded from their throats, permeating the fetid streets like an stygian chorus of woe. Their tones cloaked the city in a monstrous tapestry woven from threads of terror and despair, reverberating through the marrow of every hapless soul.
Inexorably, humanity succumbed to the insidious truth — Badger and Scrounge were not mere harbingers of the grotesque; they were The Sump Things, creatures of unfathomable dread that sought to reclaim the world from its false sanctity. Their ghastly anthems wove a fabric of horror that smothered the city in an indelible shadow, and from this horror, the very nature of existence itself trembled in chilling resonance.
Lo and behold mere mortals, for The Sump Things have heralded the end of an age, revealing to all that beneath the facade of civilization lurks a festering abscess that is ever-present and ever-maddening.
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