Diary

The man seated at the desk in the room had skin covered in moss and tumors. Every pore had been stretched into tiny holes visible to the naked eye, pulsing faintly as thick, ink-black gas sprayed out from within. The gas filled the entire room, causing the fungi on the walls to grow rapidly and ward off the holy radiance trying to seep in from outside.

"Let me think... what method should I use? Wait, I'm still more accustomed to writing with a pen."

The man then pinched the protruding nib-like spike at the tip of his finger and forcefully pulled the penhead out from within, forming a pen with a hard sporophore as its shaft, which he held in his hand.

"The weight seems a little too light. The handwriting doesn't have enough force. I need to add a weight to the end of the pen."

The man slightly raised his left palm and reached toward his ravaged face, which was covered in mushrooms and hidden beneath a mess of hair.

"Gurgle!"

He easily dug his somewhat shriveled eyeball out of its socket, yet there was no expression of pain on his face, as though this was something that happened often. He wrapped the nerves at the base of the eyeball around the end of the pen shaft. Once the weight satisfied him, he began writing in the diary again.

—(Diary entry) I don't really like holy servants. The smell they give off resembles those "good people" who used to feed me. And they always like to hold a book and prattle on about things, which makes me very uncomfortable. The light they emit harms my skin, so I should give him a slightly harsher punishment.—

—But should I use the plague or fungus-induced growth? If I keep delaying,