The Centipedian

a broadcast

Apr 6, 2026 · 1 min read

William, you there?
It’s the old Worrrrrrm spinal frequency!
Fuckin’ hell, yeah, yeah.
Skull radio surprised you, huh?
Your synapses gone satellite, mate,
and your face is opening rearwards.

Ride it there, in-between, would ya…
Grab the head.
Yeah. Correct.
Between the legs with the saw.
Split it nicely and brainy
to two perfect halves.

The Hell-noise & Shite tones—
the saw song, that is—
someone will call you through it.
And don’t fret, would ya?
’Cause ground meat and marrow do broadcast.
By the nerve signal in the dark,
it goes static to the Oort cloud.
The Black one.

Listen—
Listen! Fuck’s sake, would you listen?!
It’s already waking in your receiver’s neck.
Just need to finish the cut, ey?

Once that’s done,
The Centipedian.
It will arrive.

Nothing overt Ancient.
Just a massive, hungry bastard,
dragging its belly across the stars,
chewing the light right off the—

Kkkkrrrrssshhh