Name Eater

It shimmered as it moved, a shifting mass of carapace and chitin. It moved like a python across the ground, trailing discarded beetles and flies in its wake. It’s form was oil slick black. Black butterflies rose and fluttered about it like a dark halo. A wooden mask carved in the hollow eyed form of a human sat upon the front of its body. It had not head, and the mask seemed to float where a skull might otherwise be. The mask occasionally turned sharply in response to sound. And on some occasions, the mask would move faster than the body could match. And as the body struggled to keep up, the massive skeleton of some prehistoric snake was revealed amidst the roiling mass of insects that formed the bulk of its body.

Occasionally human skeletons would dislodge from the central mass and fall in the wake of the beast as it moved. The beast carved a trail into the ground as it moved, thousands of legs carving thousands of stolen names into the ground as it passed. It did not move quickly across the ground. But neither did it stop. And neither did it slow or tire. It simply continued on its path.

The Name Eater devoured names, and frequently took the rest of its victim as well. But the fate of those not devoured by the insects was perhaps worse. Because in devouring the victim’s name, the Name Eater stole the victim’s identity. This left the victim a hollow shell, a near complete amnesiac with little sense of even what it meant to be a person.