Faceless and soulless, the only survivors to wander among the ruins of a fallen world…
Quick concepts for an old idea. It's like watching some cursed mold growing on my world's corpse.
They exist outside the laws of biology and aren't even animals, although resemble (or rather imitate) them. I call their entire kind "Watchers" or "Tuses".
Their universe is an AU with its own, relatively independent lore and idea. I'm not sure yet what to do with it or if I will do anything.
idk how to explain this but horses dont look like earthlings to me. like they dont fit in with all the other animals we got. and its only horses not zebras or anything. just something about horses.............
You'd think more people would notice the inherent problem with an alien species where each member produces only one offspring in its life, but I've seen people overlook this multiple times.
Author's Note: More of Karlsor in Living Waters AU.
Summary: Karlsor, alone in the deep sea, hones his predatory instincts and Psyker powers while hunting alien, Warp-tainted creatures, reveling in the thrill, survival, and raw dominance over his environment, even as a greater threat lurks nearby.
Warning: Graphic violence and gore (feeding, killing), Body horror and alien/otherworldly creatures, Themes of hunger, bloodlust, and predatory behavior, Mild psychological intensity (Warp influence, stalking presence). LMK if I need to add anything else.
The first kill had been small—just a school of fish—but it had reminded him that he was alive, that his body worked, that his mind was still sharp despite sunburn and broken ribs. The hunger persisted, gnawing beneath his chest plate, reminding him that survival demanded more than scraps.
He dove deeper, letting the briny water envelope him. Currents pulled at him, strong and erratic, but Karlsor adapted. He reached out with his Psyker senses, letting his awareness slide through the water, stretching tendrils of thought, feeling the life around him. Tiny pulses of movement registered—a crab, a small predator hiding among coral—but more than that, something alien, warped, radiating faint heat and psychic unease.
Hunger sharpened into predatory focus. He launched, slicing through water with inhuman speed. Claws tore through flesh, teeth snapped through bone. The taste of living flesh—warm, slick, resistant—was ecstasy. He devoured it without hesitation, shoving past instinctive revulsion. Every kill reinforced the rhythm: hunt, kill, consume, heal, survive.
The Warp whispered again. Subtle now, in tremors and flickers, in the almost imperceptible vibration of the water. He paused, eyes narrowing. The reef in the distance seemed to pulse with a sickly glow, coral twisted into grotesque shapes, whispers curling through his mind like smoke. Something moved among it, too large, too wrong. His instincts screamed: avoid it. But hunger and curiosity—two equally dangerous predators in themselves—nipped at him.
A shadow detached itself from the reef—a leviathan, pale and sinewy, with eyes that burned faintly violet. Warp-taint radiated off it in waves. It knew him. It hunted him. Karlsor felt the thrill tighten his chest. This was no mere beast. This was something the Warp had touched, something that could shred flesh and soul alike. And yet… it moved slowly, deliberately, as though testing him, waiting for him to make the first mistake.
He grinned—or at least as close as a Night Lord could manage underwater. Teeth bared. Tail flicking, muscles coiled. He sent ripples of psychic energy through the currents, shaping the water to push the leviathan closer, confusing its senses. The creature hesitated, shrieking in psychic resonance that grated against his mind. Delicious.
Karlsor lunged. Water exploded around him as claws met scales. Teeth sank into the alien flesh, shredding, tasting, pulling. The leviathan fought, but he was faster, sharper, more hungry. The Warp rippled around them, echoing the violence, amplifying his senses, sharpening his focus, feeding the raw, primal joy of predation.
Even as the leviathan thrashed, he sensed more: currents swirling, movement in the shadows, flickers of unnatural light from the reef. More predators. More threats. But he was not afraid. Fear was a luxury he had shed long ago on Nostramo. Survival demanded hunger, cunning, and ruthlessness—and he had all three in abundance.
Finally, with a guttural roar, he ended the struggle. The leviathan floated limp in the water, still twitching. He tore into it, feeding not only his body but his rage, his satisfaction, his claim over the sea. The Warp hummed faintly around him, amused, perhaps even impressed. Perhaps mocking. He did not care.
Hours passed—or days, time blurred in the deep. Karlsor hunted, fed, healed, and hunted again. His Psyker senses grew keener, his control over currents more precise. The cursed reef loomed ever closer, whispering threats, broadcasting horrors he could not yet fully comprehend. And yet, he survived. He thrived.
Above him, the sun rose and fell. Pain in his sunburned scales flared and faded. Hunger returned. Shadows shifted. Warp-taint whispered.
And in the distance, faintly, almost imperceptibly, another pulse: larger, slower, more intelligent. Something waited. Something far worse than the leviathan he had just devoured.
Karlsor’s lips curled into a grin.
Good.
Predator. Psyker. Night Lord. Alive. Hungry. And ready.
I've been wanting to make more creatures and then I found myself working on this, a new alien/not exactly human look to Pidge, putting her with some interesting little buddies.
And I love them all.
Anywho, I hope y'all enjoy this one!
Commissions are open and available on my Ko-fi.
Until next time!
“Totally evil alien monsters invade Earth and humans have to fight them and—” fuck that noise, here’s a concept where the protagonist befriends one of them.
Disclaimer: I did not come up with the name “xenobeast.” I just read it somewhere and felt like it’d be a fitting name for these guys.