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Screamarts Feral

Making only a minute splash, a pair of sandaled feet landed in the murky waters of the city’s sewer system. Their owner winced slightly as his first step squelched upon the sodden and soggy soil that coated the ground within these grand pipes, but redoubled his focus with the knowledge that their labyrinthine network would provide him with a means to sneak into the castle unseen, undetected, and with minimal resistance. Assured in this knowledge, he strode forwards with confidence, undeterred by the murky and fetid environment in which he now traveled.

After some time in the sewers, the ronin became aware that he was being watched. From the most shadowed corners of the system's most cavernous corridors, he began to catch glimpses of sickly yellow eyes that followed him not with the vigilance of man but with the ravenous hunger of a beast. As he quickened his pace, he felt only more and more of these eyes upon him and began to rush through the passages in search of a glimmer of light. Finding it deep beneath the grated cover of a street-level vent, he turned to face his would-be assailants and found them on all sides; feral rats of a gargantuan size that dripped noxious poisons from the rotted enamel of their exposed teeth. As he assumed a defensive posture, the ronin grinned beneath the wide brim of his armored hat. It had been some time since he had been able to test his skills against an enemy this numerous, and his blade hungered to cleave through the soft hides of these rodents of unusual size. Thus it was that as the horde came upon him, his battle cry echoed upwards to the street above with glee, alongside the frenzied screeching of the swarm that fell like grass before his honed blade. Even within this melee, however, the ronin could not shake the feeling that he was being watched again, now by more human eyes. As the penultimate rat fell before his blade, a thunderous explosion reverberated throughout the tunnel, silencing the chamber he stood within. As his gaze traveled upwards, it followed a thin trail of smoke from the silver barrel of a six-shooter upwards to the brims of two hats, wide like his own but made of leather rather than straw. From beneath one came a single gruff greeting, breaking the silence wrought by the gun that had emerged from the darkness.

“Howdy, stranger”

SCREAMARTS returns to EATBRAIN with his latest EP, FERAL. Unified by the untamed roars of their driving basslines, the four tracks within see SCREAMARTS tap into the most primal portions of his sound both solo and in collaboration with fellow EATBRAIN artists BURR OAK for his most raw and unrestrained release yet.

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