A corpse-handler with an iron meat-hook stepped forward and ripped away the dripping burlap shroud.
A cloud of frosty salt water vapor billowed from the cart, spilling over the edge of the dark rock dais into the drainage runnels.
Resting inside the wooden crate was a heavy, tube-shaped vessel of leaded green glass.
Sunk in amber embalming vinegar was a human-sized organ. Black, stringy, and swollen with thick, knotted veins that looked like charred tree roots.
It was the cut heart of a Mountain Thunder Ghoul.
Though cut from its torso for months, the muscle tissue was not dead.
Deep within the amber salt water, the thick ventricles gave a sluggish, wet twitch—thump... Thump...
Tiny arcs of pale violet rotting static leaped between the hardened valves. He struck the inside of the glass with sharp, snapping sparks.
