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Saint Nicholas of Myra, Father Christmas 

(Digital)

2020

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“Gruss Vom Krampus!!”

Digital

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“Jason...My Special, Special boy!”

“Mommy has something she wants you to DO!”

“You and your friends are dead...GAME OVER”

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“I’m your boyfriend now, Nancy!”

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My Star Wars Day contribution!!

It’s my own self-insert Jedi OC!

I made up a species/race for the character based on a headcanon moon for the planet miralia. Basically elf like near humans with hard but light-weight bones and extensive longevity.

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Inktober Day Nineteen

“Rotaher”

A vile and malicious spirit who haunts dead trees. It’s mostly found in the wild and usually hunts large predatory animals but will often stalk and attack humans. It’s preferred method is to basically intoxicate the victim with its miasma or inject its venom through its many needle like appendages. It places the victim in a confused, ecstatic and drowsy state which usually causes them to wander away from civilization and towards thick forests. The victim is usually so drugged that it delights in its own destruction.

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Inktober day eighteen

“The Raituran”

The abandoned-church phantom, the white hellion, the torn man. It has been known by many names but it’s modus operandi remains the same. It is known to haunt abandoned buildings of great importance. Perhaps a tall tale to deter hooligans from messing around with abandoned holy places. It’s said the raituran can only be summoned by intentionally destroying something in the building after it’s been abandoned for ten years or more. Usually it dosent allow itself to be seen and the smell of what’s been described as burning plastic is what most people have experienced. Those that have gotten close enough to it. It’s unknown what it wants or what it does to its victims. They merely disappear never to be seen again.

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Inktober day seventeen

“The Screaming Man”

A human monster. His name was Hayden Sampson but the people of the town of Coveronville know this monster by one name: “the screaming man”. This is due to the mask he wore whilst torturing and dismembering his victims. Victims which usually included children and young adults. The last thing they saw as they screamed for their young lives was the silent face of the mask. It’s wide open mouth eating up their terror and their screams. Sampson was caught over 30 years ago and the world may have forgotten but Coveronville is still haunted by the mask of the screaming man.

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Inktober day sixteen

“Fregellax”

The fregellax lives beneath the waves of earth but hails from a planet long forgotten devoured by its own dying star. It is yet unknown as to how exactly the fregellax got here or when even. Still it’s even more difficult to try and figure out its intentions as it seems not to eat or need anything to survive. We assume that it’s survival has something to do with water but that’s only because it’s never left the water. A few bad crossings with some pirates earned it the reputation of a hellish terror as it does not like being disturbed and even though barely any survived the encounters they were never the same but all believed the thing was only defending itself. Perhaps it’s benign.

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October day fifteen

“Pritalok: The False Saint”

The great imposter. It’s been known to take on the guise of a god or fairy and appear to unsuspecting people asking first for acts of devotion or prayer which turn into demands for acts of violence or depravity. It’s appearance usually spells horror for those affected

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Inktober day fourteen

“Kazoar”

The twelfth demon of torment. A regent of a small pit of hell. He wanders the earth looking for souls to take back there with him. There he takes delight in breaking into the minds and souls of his victims exposing their fears and leaving them wandering in a maelstrom of guilt and terror. His preferred method of capture is through games, religious ceremonies or divination rituals. Usually someone has to intentionally do something wrong or off to corrupt the process allowing him to enter.

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Inktober day thirteen

“The Palldrun Mask”

A mask made of an unknown material from humankind’s prehistoric era. According to legend it was manufactured as a gift to the devil from Cain the first murderer. The devil had asked for some of his late brother’s blood which had dried on Cain’s old club. When Cain had abliged the devil made him a secret kingdom hidden in a valley. There he ruled from otherworldly palaces and wore garments never before seen and never seen again. There were great dances and celebrations, opulent banquets and endless resources. Cain had been advised to present the devil with a gift from his hidden nation. He had his greatest artisans work on the project. Cain found the devil’s appearance to be unbearable and offered this mask for him to speak through. Once he presented the gift to the devil his kingdom disappeared. It fell to the earth like sand and the only one who remembered was Cain. He was left alone again, to wander and lost to confusion.

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Inktober day twelve

“Claude”

The dream thief

All you need to know it not to summon him. He is a spirit which only seems to exist in the realms of dreams and nightmares. Still this dosent stop him from affecting the world of the living. He’s known to hunt people in their dreams and eat them. Not the people but their dreams. Some he gets to early in life but he has no preferences. Almost as if he’s choosing at random; there is no pattern in his victims. Once he’s done the victim will dream no longer. Not even the nightmares remain and the nights of the victim are a wash of total darkness. Perhaps until death. It’s said he carries a small sack which he uses to collect the bones of his victims dreams. To look into the bag is to die and to steal from the bag is to ask for a date worse than death. Fear the Claude beast and do not summon him.

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Inktober day eleven

“Kritegga”

The kritegga had apparently been stalking the island since before my grandparents were born but I’d never seen it. I always figured it was something they use to tell us kids to stay away from the water at night or out of the woods or something. It wasn’t until I heard it’s howl that I started to change my mind. Like nothing I hadn’t heard before. No animal, no human ,no machine could have made that sound. And somehow I knew it was kritegga. No one else heard it that night. It was a party and me and a small group of people decided to take a walk through the trees. We thought we were safe until I heard it. They all looked at me like I was losing it but I know what I heard. It’s been days and I can’t get it out of my head. I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to eat. I just want to run into the forests and find him. I just have to see it.

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Inktober day ten

“Sipegarus”

I can feel my days growing shorter. I can’t seem to speak as loudly and the words always escape me anyway. I am surrounded by hungry dogs. It’s cold. I am not alone but I wish I was. I can see him ever clearly now and I’ve stopped running. He won’t stop crying and I can’t stop listening. The dark is folding in on me and soon I’ll forget. I can no longer run and I don’t want to anymore. He isn’t the dark. He fears it even more than I did. He’s it’s herald.

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Inktober day nine

“Anais”

a strigoi

He made it a point to tell me his great age. 1200 years apparently but beneath his accent and his gnarled teeth I couldn’t exactly make everything out but I got that much. He was full and had apparently recently laid waste to a large family of raccoons. He seemed drunk and didn’t even seem aware of my presence. Yet he went on. He was rambling about how he was a fearsome creature who fed on blood and fear. He grew sad when he spoke about his loneliness and slumped over to the ground sobbing. At this point my heart settled and I started to dissaociate a bit. I took in my surroundings and felt a tinge of guilt at the fact that I was walking out in the local park nature trail so late. The trees, the sounds, the blanket of comforting dim were all things I found great solace in and I usually excercise at night. As Anais’ drunken cries grew louder and more pained it brought me back to the heart-stopping almost hallucinatinatory situation I had found myself in. I couldn’t look to the trees to calm me down and I couldn’t focus on him. I could try to lose him in the dense forest and winding pathways but that could piss him off and drunk or not he clearly wasn’t human. I was frozen. All I could do was click my phones lock screen on and off. Who could I call? Or text? What would I say? That a sad drunk vampire was holding me hostage in the middle of the “woods”? I had no choice. I had to wait it out and try and slowly make distance from him. Suddenly Anais’ sobbing grew pathetic and he curled up into a ball in the ground ,trembling. In that instance I felt two things. Firstly, a subtle tinge of the specific kind of frustration caused by dealing with drinks and then an overwhelming wave of guilt and sympathetic sadness. I found myself slowly walking over to him and asking if he wanted to talk about it. He began to cry louder saying that he found that having confidants was futile that they all die eventually. He’d had to start the process over and over until he gave up. Other strigoi were rare and vampires treated him like a ghost. Humans were mostly food but every now and again a human would earn his trust and soon he’d find his loneliness getting the better of him and him becoming vulnerable and trusting another person with his inner thoughts and feelings always seemed to scratch that specific itch. The process of watching them all die while Anais stayed alive was clearly starting to get the better of him. I decided he wouldn’t hurt me and I walked home. I don’t walk at night now needless to say but I think I’ve seen Anais watching me whenever I do happen to be out and about after sundown but that could just be a bit of trauma from the whole odd experience. This is his face as I could remember it. It was very dark out and the moonlight was partially obscured by the trees so I took some liberty.

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Inktober day eight

“Teralex : The Horrid”

I only ever see it in dreams. My dreams aren’t the most pleasant so seeing it is an expected part of my night. I’m always in the same place. It’s like an empty city and I’m usually walking the bare streets in the evening or morning by the place of the sun in the sky. Then suddenly I’m in some kind of great building like a hospital, library, school or mega store and there some kind of emergency. Only in the buildings am I surrounded by people all nervous and scrambling towards exits. Sometimes it’s a natural disaster, like a storm or flood, sometimes it’s a fire, sometimes great bear-like creatures ripping through the building devouring everyone and sometimes it’s men and women dressed in black and carrying guns. I get to experience escaping usually. I get out onto the streets and run away but somehow I end up back in the building and closer to the threat than before. I’ve never drowned or burned or got eaten but I do expierence getting shot. Those are the worse dreams. I don’t wake up right away but instead see this thing in the distance. I can hear it laughing as it walks towards me all backwards and wrong. No one can see it but me and i slowly try to crawl away. The men with guns notice me and shoot me again. Then I wake up. These don’t happen every night but it’s still a very usual and very disturbing occurrence. Psychiatrists and therapists don’t know what to say. They usually disregard it or prescribe me something. The sleeping pills make it harder to wake up usually.