Tag: horror

niorig:

philosoverted:

geekremix:

moosefrog:

boredpanda:

20+ One-Picture Horror Stories That We Do Not Recommend Reading Alone

@briancoldrick has a tumblr if you’d like to see more!

Look at all those guardian angels being there for lonely people. ❤

Perhaps horror and terror aren’t always the same thing, and darkness isn’t always indicative of harm.

The traveler in the tunnel groped his way forward with a hand against the wall, a chill creeping up his spine. The guardian, watching its brave trespasser stumble, lit a candle for the man to find: on the other side he’d be outside the spirit’s care, but now at least there would be a light to guide his way.

The man alone in empty rows of cubicles allowed himself to be taken advantage of by his employers. The resident spirit kept watch on its melancholy charge, encouraging him to leave by spreading a vague feeling of unease: endless mechanized work was not meant for mortals, whose lives pass by so quickly if they let themselves be stripped of joy.

The guardians kept a close eye on the young woman. She was blithely unaware of the unscrupulous fraternity boys who never overstayed their welcome in her apartment after a wild party: who, instead, always stumbled home to pass out on their own couches, and fell asleep to the vision of many eyes judging their guilty thoughts.

The boy liked to be alone. When his father was home it was never good, but once his family moved into their new place something crept through the darkness that was stronger than his father’s temper. It wasn’t long before his father stopped raising his voice and his fists, frightened by horrible dreams that left him drenched in sweat whenever he so much as thought about hurting his son. The boy slept soundly: he always felt safe for as long as he lived in that house.

The radio broadcaster had recently lost his husband. When he was at work the good memories felt close by, and some of the horror of those last days beside a hospital bed faded away. Sometimes, when the weight grew unbearable, he almost thought he felt a hand on his shoulder, a soft voice telling him he was never truly alone. His love was there. He would always be there, as long as he was needed.

The darkness watched out for the ones who couldn’t watch out for themselves.

Rev logging again for the stories added.

Source: boredpanda

quarkmaster:

Day 5: Faces of spoilage

You can find video process and more here – https://artstn.co/m/DVv0
Updates: https://www.instagram.com/vakon
–
“Necromancy distorts and turns all living things into its weapon. Even ordinary birds can be turned into dangerous weapons. At first glance, harmless, they spread the plague and disease, ruining and infecting crops with spoilage. A small flock of such birds infected by a necromancer, can bring more deaths than a crowd of zombies raised from a rural churchyard. Be vigilant, because dark magic can appear in the most unexpected forms. Ailing tramp, scrubby yard dog, or even a strange-looking domestic chicken – can hiding a deadly plague behind a simple sickness!

— Kyera Farh. “Faces and ongoings of darkness”

This is one of the UNDEADHUNTER series works, that I did during #inktober18 and each art was done in one day.

Day 6: Drooling poison

You can find video process and more here – https://artstn.co/m/0wq7
Updates: https://www.instagram.com/vakon
–
“One of the monstrous creatures that can wait for you on your way is the Strigoi. These creatures were once human beings, but completely distraught by necromancy and beginning to feed on corpses. Their mind became similar to the predator’s mind, and their bodies are strong and dexterous. But fear not only this! Their main weapon is a deadly poison drooling from mouth and claws. It seems that their very body is impregnated with it and appears through the pale skin. When you meet with this opponent, be extremely careful.”⠀
⠀
— Bertrand Naivera. Treatise “Survivor in Darkness”
–
This is one of the UNDEADHUNTER series works, that I did during #inktober18 and each art was done in one day.

Day 7: Exhausted lands

You can find video process and more here – https://artstn.co/m/rvj2
Updates: https://www.instagram.com/vakon
–
“Most often magic creates only short-term effect. But to our great sorrow, necromancy is not. And many of the lands is a proof for it: castles and villages, former habitats of dark cultists, even after many years bear the traces of decay. The land, tormented by dark rituals and rites, is no longer able to yield a harvest and is more like a grave decay than fertile soil. The forests are empty and resemble a skeleton with white bones. And the rivers are stinking and poisonous.»
⠀
— Kyera Farh. “Faces and ongoings of darkness”
–
This is one of the UNDEADHUNTER series works, that I did during #inktober18 and each art was done in one day.

Day 8: Morning star

You can find video process and more here – https://artstn.co/m/MgeM
Updates: https://www.instagram.com/vakon
–
“The morning stars are a sign of hope, messengers of the fact that the dawn is near, and the surrounding darkness is about to retreat. Our weapons are not accidentally called the morning stars-it is a symbol of the dawn and the expulsion of darkness from our lands. Believe in yourself and carry this weapon with honor, you and your weapon are dawn. Together, you will disperse the darkness, throw it back, forcing it to retreat again and again until you eradicate it in our world. You are the dawn that brings the joy of life, gives hope and frees the hearts from fear!”
⠀
— Tadeus Irey. The first hunter. «Covenants to those who follow in my footsteps»

This is one of the UNDEADHUNTER series works, that I did during #inktober18 and each art was done in one day.

Konstantin Vavilov 

theveryworstthing:

estranged-fossil:

theveryworstthing:

a merm design from over on patreon. This strikingly patterned lady belongs to a race of merms that function kind of like siphonophorae. Their bodies are actual communities of smaller creatures, each one with a function so specific that it would die on its own.

Fun Facts:

Keep reading

this is such a gorgeous concept and i’m in a writing mood, here’s some mini-fiction:

Laurie and I stared dumbstruck through the submersible’s bubble window. A translucent paw caressed the plastic dome with tender curiosity, her-their delicate face leaning close to watch us in return. Every deep sea horror story I’ve ever read or watched on a screen had told me that an experience like this would be one of mind-bending fear; it hadn’t prepared me for the possibility that I’d be taken with instantaneous love, the same awe-mixed adoration that had struck Saint Teresa in her cell.

I see you, we see you, said a voice that I did not hear, and beside me I felt Laurie tremble.

There was a question. You are each only one?

“Yes,” I said aloud, and I didn’t dare take my eyes away from her-their serene expression. The mermaid’s body billowed behind her-them in the soft current, brightly-colored organs wrapped in a transparent robe of flesh.

You must be lonely, said the voice in sweet intimacy with my thoughts, If only you were like me, like us. You would never be lonely again.

an excellent addition, thank you so much! i like the hyphenated pronouns and the slightly unsettling implications of the last sentence.

i wonder what she-they thinks the submersible is? a shell? this crew must seem like the most interesting giant mollusc in the world. 

theveryworstthing:

theveryworstthing:

anon wanted to know about this gal so here’s her blurb from the zine i’m working on :

She gives them a pretty good head start all things
considered. This part of the woods was perfect for running, nice full moon,
well-kept paths. Should be no problem steering them back to the cabin. It was a
standard night. Rowdy idiots come down for a weekend at a deserted cabin, find
disturbing journal written by an unknown author, disobeys its rules for kicks.
The usual. The blond lady trips on what has to be the only rock on the entire
20 mile trail and the man, a hiker they met at the lake, pushes her ahead and
tells her to run. When they reach the cabin door she’s the last one in and but
not the only one to hear the wet impact of crushed meat behind her. The creature
has a huge twisted hand sunk into the hiker’s chest, dragging him into the
trees as he gurgles and twitches on the forest floor. She looks into his wide
glassy eyes one last time and bolts inside, locking the door behind her.

Minutes later Cynthia watched the pandemonium unfold
from her laptop screen on the only good wifi spot for miles. She took another
wet nap and wiped blood off the touchpad. George sat nearby, rinsing out his
chest cavity with a bottle of water. She watched as the terrified group cobbled
together weapons and barricaded doors. George shook the water off of his right
lung and looked over her shoulder.

“They hunkering down Cyn?”

“Yeah,” she took another sip of coffee “looks like
they’re gonna wait it out till morning. Probably for the best by the state of
all those beer cans left at the lake. I’ll call the station and have them
picked up. We spooked ‘em pretty good.” That was an understatement. At least 3
of them had pissed themselves. A personal best.

George sank into the chair beside her. “Serves ‘em
right. Littering, setting off fireworks in one of the driest seasons we’ve had
in years. Fuck ‘em.”

Cynthia pulled her ranger jacket on and poured
another cup of coffee. They had been warned. Said it right there in the
book.  She handed the mug to George and
started in on a pack of oreos.

“Yeah. Fuck ‘em”

i still really like this one.

Source: theveryworstthing