The Devourers: A Warning from the Shadows
Proverbs 30:14 (KJV) says:
"There is a generation, whose teeth are as swords, and their jaw teeth as knives, to devour the poor from off the earth, and the needy from among men."
This verse paints a vivid picture of a ruthless and cruel generation—people who are vicious in their words and actions, preying on the weak and vulnerable. It serves as a warning against arrogance, greed, and the destruction caused by those who lack compassion.
The Devourers: A Warning from the Shadows
The fire in the Immortal Gazette Studio burned low, casting uneasy flickers across the room. Loki leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, scowling. Alice stirred her tea, expression unreadable. Rumplestiltskin stood near the window, his usual smirk absent.
Something was wrong.
Alice finally spoke. "I don't like this one."
Rumplestiltskin nodded. "Neither do I."
Loki exhaled through his nose. "And yet, it has to be told."
Alice shivered. "Fine. But for once, let’s not make it entertaining."
Rumplestiltskin turned, his voice devoid of its usual mirth. "We speak now of the Devourers—those who walk among mortals, their hunger endless, their cruelty without limit."
Loki stood, his face set in stone. "Let the mortals listen. Let them understand."
And so, the story began.
The Generation of Teeth
There have always been those who feed—not on food, but on the suffering of others. They are neither gods nor devils. They are something worse.
They are the Devourers.
Their teeth are as swords. Their jaws, like knives. They cut down the weak, stripping them of dignity, life, and even hope. They do not kill quickly; no, that would be merciful. Instead, they feast slowly—on despair, on poverty, on the helpless cries of those who cannot fight back.
They walk in shadows, but also in daylight. They wear fine clothes, sit on thrones, smile in places of power. They are kings and queens of destruction, masked as saviors.
The Marketplace of Flesh
There is a place, hidden beyond mortal sight, where the Devourers gather. It has no name, for to name it would be to summon its horror.
It is a marketplace, but no goods are traded here—only souls.
The laughter that echoes in its halls is like the grinding of bone. The currency? Suffering. The highest bidder is always the one who can extract the most pain, the one who can break a spirit beyond repair.
They do not bargain with gold. They bargain with hunger, with addiction, with desperation. They turn the poor into prey, the lost into slaves, the innocent into spectacles of torment.
And they never grow full.
They are the ones who watch as the weak fall and do nothing. They are the ones who smile while others starve. They drink from goblets filled with the lifeblood of the helpless, and still, they thirst.
The Feast of the Wicked
There was a night, long ago, when a great feast was held in their halls. The tables stretched for miles, the chandeliers dripped with molten gold, and the guests? The most wretched souls to ever walk the earth.
A king who crushed his people beneath his boot.
A merchant who stole from starving children.
A ruler who declared war, not for justice, but for amusement.
Each had a place at the table. Each raised a glass to their own cruelty.
And at the head of the banquet sat the oldest of them all—the First Devourer, the one who had seen empires rise and fall, the one who had whispered in the ears of kings, the one whose hunger had no end.
His voice was like rusted iron. “Eat,” he said. “Drink. For the world belongs to those who take.”
And so they did.
They feasted on misery, on fear, on the hopeless cries of those they had destroyed.
The air was thick with laughter, but beneath it, if one listened closely, there was another sound.
A whisper.
A warning.
The Reckoning
For the Devourers always forget one thing.
Everything has a price.
Their feasting had been long, their greed endless. They had forgotten to look over their shoulders. They had grown too comfortable in their thrones, too certain in their power.
And so, when the first shadow fell upon the banquet hall, they did not notice.
When the second shadow moved across the walls, they did not stir.
When the third loomed behind the First Devourer, it was already too late.
The great doors slammed shut.
The candlelight flickered.
And from the darkness, a voice spoke.
“The poor you have devoured. The weak you have broken. The innocent you have bled dry.”
The First Devourer rose, his eyes burning. “Who dares speak to me?”
Silence.
Then—a hand reached from the void.
It was not flesh. It was not spirit. It was judgment itself.
It touched his shoulder, and for the first time in eternity… the First Devourer felt fear.
The others screamed. They tried to flee, but there was nowhere left to run.
They had dined upon the world for too long.
Now the world dined upon them.
The feast was over.
The Warning
Rumplestiltskin exhaled, his fingers tightening around the windowsill.
Loki’s face was pale. Alice had not touched her tea.
“This…” Alice murmured, “was not a story.”
“No.” Rumplestiltskin’s voice was low. “It was a warning.”
Loki met his gaze. “The Devourers still exist, don’t they?”
Rumplestiltskin nodded. “They walk among mortals. They rule, they take, they feast.”
Alice swallowed. “And what happens when their time runs out?”
Loki gave a humorless smile. “Then they are devoured.”
Alice tilted her head and looked at Loki, "Wow, now this story would make an epic movie!"
A shudder ran through the room.
The fire crackled. The shadows deepened.
And somewhere, beyond the veil of mortal sight, something watched.
Waiting.
Hungry.
💵 💵 💵
Proverbs 30:14 (KJV) says:
"There is a generation, whose teeth are as swords, and their jaw teeth as knives, to devour the poor from off the earth, and the needy from among men."
This verse paints a vivid picture of a ruthless and cruel generation—people who are vicious in their words and actions, preying on the weak and vulnerable. It serves as a warning against arrogance, greed, and the destruction caused by those who lack compassion.
