A stain of crimson with little mounds of red, specks of white scattered all over the surface, lines still flowing toward the ground, crawling downward upon a grey wall, seeping into cracks.
All that remained of what this splash of red had been were four pieces of mushy flesh, two hands and two feet.
A bizarre dark fog permeated the air, pitch black particles floating about as they wished, the clouds arranged into a spiral, giving the impression of an of pure darkness, in its center, a sun casting a pale blue light, the astral body unmoving, remaining in the very same spot.
Loimos had been sucked into a realm, this one actively pulling everything around inside, which was obvious by just looking from afar as a perfect demi-sphere was carved into the ground around this entrance, this behaviour seemed very instinctual as its dark, boneless arms were still reaching around even though it must have taken all that it possibly could for years by now.