The ground split open beneath the churchyard. Tiny, clawed hands crawled out, covered in ash and blood. They weren’t crying — they were laug...

The ground split open beneath the churchyard. Tiny, clawed hands crawled out, covered in ash and blood. They weren’t crying — they were laughing. Now, every full moon, the pit breathes again, and the laughter echoes from below. The priest swears he can still hear them calling his name. Prompt: hellish ...