The Amalgam.
The name was under the large dot on my minimap. My mind flashed to the horrific necromorphs from the Dead Space games. A scream, inhuman, somewhere between hissing and scratching, like hot metal scraping together while being doused in cold water, assaulted my ears.
“I liked when these things were quiet,” Dom said.
He and Marcus moved into the next chamber with Ken right on their heels. Frankie hesitated. I squeezed her shoulder and stepped into the room, hearing her footfalls behind me.
The Amalgam stood before us, if you could call it standing. The shifting mass of fused limbs and half-formed faces pulsed and let loose another scream. The wrongness of the creature turned my stomach. I spied griffin wings beating inside a boar’s ribcage. Somewhere in the middle of a torso that was more a tapestry of stretched faces — animal, Human, Leonid — I spied a wolf’s jaw hanging slack, flopping and broken, thick green drool clinging to the lips.
AMALGAM — Level 2
An instanced boss of the Hallowed Reach. In a beautiful floor filled with ugly people, this disease runs rampant. The Amalgam is a sentient collector, hatred manifest. It compiles failures, adding them to its ever-growing body. You’re next, loser!