Growing out of the floor, a crescent of fleshwrapped bone. Steel ribs sprung out from its sides, their ends sunk deep into the floor. The framework was splotched with rust, a sheathing patina of dark stain.

K'tageth's head was mounted above the altar, a featureless face sliced down the middle by a dripping orifice. It parted open as we looked, revealing no tongue, no teeth; and though she recoiled from the vision, the woman couldn't help but stare into K'tageth's mouth.

His insides were flayed crimson, slit by a hundred lines of dark purple that bled wet air. 'He breathes through them,' the thing had explained to me when I'd first seen them. They pulsed in unison now, expelling a collective breath that washed over us.