Immortalis Is Not Suitable for Those Who Dislike Absurdist Horror

If you crave horror that unfolds with mechanical precision, where every shadow hides a rational predator and every scream echoes a clear cause, then Immortalis will unsettle you in ways you cannot anticipate. This is not a tale for those who demand tidy logic in their terrors. Immortalis revels in the absurd, the grotesque inversion of expectation, where the body betrays itself not through simple decay, but through impossible contortions that mock the very laws of flesh and bone.

Consider the lovers at its heart, bound not by affection alone, but by rituals that twist desire into something unrecognisable. One partner’s touch does not soothe; it unravels. Skin splits to reveal not blood, but mechanisms of forgotten clockwork, ticking in defiance of biology. The dominant figure, with his sadistic command, enforces a romance that defies gravity, where submission leads not to release, but to limbs elongating into parodic forms, stretching towards ceilings that were never there. This is body horror elevated to absurdity, where the erotic bleeds into the farcical, and pain becomes a punchline delivered by the universe itself.

Enemies collide not in predictable vendettas, but in scenarios that parody their hatred. A pursuit through haunted corridors ends with the hunter pursued by his own severed smile, floating independently, whispering taunts in a voice borrowed from childhood toys. The satire bites deep here, lampooning the tropes of dark romance while amplifying them into splatterpunk fever dreams. Gore sprays not in realistic arcs, but in patterns that form obscene sigils, mocking the reader’s expectation of catharsis.

For those unaccustomed to absurdist horror, Immortalis offers no respite. Its world is one where BDSM dynamics warp reality: chains do not bind, they multiply, forking into infinities that ensnare the soul. The erotic horror pulses with a kinky absurdity, where dominance manifests as the victim’s shadow rebelling, growing teeth and appetites of its own. Transformative horror unfolds in scenes of weird fiction, grotesque and unyielding, where the line between lover and monster dissolves into a joke at the expense of sanity.

This is not horror for the faint of narrative conviction. Immortalis demands you embrace the irrational, the transformative farce of existence. If such elements repel you, turn away now. For those who endure, it promises a descent into the sardonic heart of the forbidden.

Immortalis Book One August 2026