Epilogue (2)
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baritone growl that shakes me to the core.

He stands far taller than Siron. Fifteen miles perhaps, probably more. His skin is red as blood, the explosion lighting the atmosphere in the same reddish hue. He boasts a masculine body with full, toned muscles and long, black claws on the tip of each finger. A full head of hair conceals a pair of goat’s horns that rest just above the ear and before the second pair of eyes. Like a hammerhead, two smaller eyes sit on either side of his forehead, roughly half as big as the pair set just under the thing's bony forehead. He opens a fang-filled maw and roars again, his beard falling just below his neck as he does. He steps forward, out of the debris field, a swaying, flaccid penis and pair of testicles cushioned by a mound of pubic hair as he approaches th...

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