Grey Stalks

Rachel stopped at the edge of a copse of dead trees. It felt like days had passed since she stepped through that black door, but the sun never rose, and no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't sleep. She finally caught up to a group she had followed through the desert. She hadn't spoken to anyone else in all this time, but instinct overpowered her eagerness to silently watch the ritual unfolding before her.
The gaunt figures had reached the center of the trees and encircled one of three tall, grey growths. Unlike the trees around them, the stalks were thriving. Each a polyp of the earth, topped with a pale, fleshy pod. The figures began a chant while one of their members drew forth a basin. It spread an inky broth over the stalk's base, causing the pod above to pulse.
Despite not understanding what she was witnessing, Rachel felt disgusted. This was wrong, whatever it was, and seemingly, the universe agreed as a toadlike man burst from the sands.
"For Am!" it shouted as it slew the feeble ritualists with clawed hands that rent through the withered figures in seconds. The stranger reveled in his victory until the pod burst above with a gush of blood. From the spill hunched a ghoulish, sinewy form of a person. The toad lashed forth, and when the vicious combat concluded, the ghoul stood covered in pulpy remains.
Rachel wasn't able to turn away from the carnage. When the ghoul finally met her gaze, her disgust was quickly replaced with animalistic fear.