Language is meant to describe reality.
Not consume it.
When a series of obscure texts begin circulating through academic and archival channels, no one notices at first. The words appear harmless. Dry. Technical. Almost dull.
But something in the language doesn't behave like language should.
Meaning shifts. Context collapses. Readers experience disorientation, obsession, and an unshakable sense that the text is reading them back. Attempts to classify or translate the material only deepen its influence, as if the act of understanding feeds it.
As researchers, archivists, and institutions struggle to contain what they've uncovered, it becomes clear that this is not a message, a cipher, or a code.
It is a system.
And it does not want to be interpreted.
The Devouring Language is a quiet, cerebral work of literary horror-an exploration of meaning, control, and the terrifying possibility that language itself may be alive, hungry, and slowly rewriting the world that depends on it.
