The Ghoul

All living things know hunger. All that is flesh must consume. But for those who partake of the flesh of their own kind, a door is opened and a ritual begun. For the act of cannibalism is an invitation to a ravenous spirit that covets the flesh. It is known by many names to many peoples, but its purpose is always the same, to inhabit the flesh so that it may consume.
Each cannibalistic meal widens the door for this spirit, allowing more of it to pass into the host, twisting its body as it does. The bones of the host are warped and elongated; jaws widen and jagged teeth burst forth, shredding the lips and knocking the original teeth free to be swallowed in insatiable hunger. The spine is curved so that the host must crawl instead of walk, and claws puncture the toes and fingertips, as suited for digging as for rending flesh and bone. The more human flesh is consumed, the more the host is reshaped, until it begins to crave this meal above all others. Its hair falls out in clumps. Its eyes are overgrown with folded tissue. Its nose, now replaced by nasal slits, can detect the scent of flesh, even buried deep underground, yet still the hunger grows, maddening, all-consuming, until the host knows little else.
As the union of spirit and host strengthens, ever more flesh is required. Should the host fail to sate this monstrous hunger, the spirit will abandon them. But for those that manage to consume enough, the merger is made complete, and a new entity is born… a Ghoul. Though the host’s body is ultimately killed by this full transformation, the ravenous spirit sustains it in undeath. To ghouls, the battlefield is a smorgasbord of body parts. Blood-soaked muscles wrapped in creamy fat give way to crunchy sinews and succulent organs, and no bone is discarded without first slurping out the marrow. Just as it fueled their original metamorphosis, the flesh continues to empower Ghouls, strengthening them, reshaping them.
A full stomach is no reason to cease the feast, and a Ghoul is happy to purge a previous meal if it spots something particularly tasty, if only for the sheer pleasure of eating again. To the living, and to many undead, Ghouls are but mindless scavengers, but to a Ghoul, the rest of the world are just picky eaters. Either way, their ferocity and adaptability are an undeniable asset to Deadhaus, and it takes little convincing to enlist the aid of a Ghoul in war. After all, that's where the freshest meat is found.