spooksandstories

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I hear Carrie's being adapted again as a TV series for Amazon by Mike Flanagan and I'm now coming to terms with my apparent witch powers with how I manifested this back in 2021

Anyway, sincerely hoping they'll consider casting an actress that will accurately represent my fat, telekinetic, bloody queen from the novel.

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Happy Halloween season! Here's another stab at my own take of Carrie White, based on her book description. I'm super happy with how these turned out! I'd love to tackle some of the other characters in the book eventually, especially Margaret!

EDIT:

Now available as an art print here!

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Check out more of my work on other platforms!

My Instagram -- My Twitter

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The salvage crew didnt know what the hell to make of it. They came back rambling about bones and bodies, saying it didn't make any sense.

3 days of questioning were needed to get a full picture of what they'd found, amid panic and delirium.

A derelict. Floating deep on the galaxy's edge. God knows what they were doing that far out, but the salvage team noticed the derelict by chance. Almost crashed into it.

Inside, it was dead. Just that. No noise, no movement, even the colour was sapped from the environment. All grey and black, and shadow.

But it wasn't empty. There were bodies, parts of bodies at least. Fused into the walls, the doors, posted up like totem poles all over the interior. Skulls malformned and distorted, stretched across podiums like skin over a rack. Limbs hollowed out into pipes. Or maybe they were growing from the walls.

Among them all, most perplexing of all, a statue of a woman. Positioned against the far wall, arms crossed and head facing up toward the ceiling. She was nude, and carried herself with a saintly elegance.

It was impossible to deny. She was human. Or near enough. Face, breasts, hands and stomach, all human. Except for the growth sprouting from her scalp. Almost like a crown.

By this point, the salvage crew knew they were far out of their depth. Far from any sane line of thinking.

They took photo and video evidence, and what little physical samples they dared to.

Their commanding officer wanted nothing more than to sweep this incident under the rug. Pretend it had never happened. But this was a major find, and could have significant consequences for all of humanity.

But one thing gave her pause.

While reviewing the video footage captured by the crew, the officer noticed a detail which made her blood run cold.

At the end of the footage, as the crew are packing up and preparing to leave, the camera turns toward the room of necrotic machinery and decorations.

Visible in the background, is the nude statue. Standing tall above the totems and bones.

Except she was no longer looking at the ceiling.

The statues face had turned toward the camera, toward the crew.

She was smiling. Smiling wide and proud. Like how a parent might look at their child.

All data on the derelict was destroyed. Not a word about it was to be spoken ever again.

Whatever was on that derelict, human or not, best it not recieve any more fresh meat.

H. R. Giger "Biomechanoid III"

Oil, airbrush, mixed media

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There's something lurking in the dark...

I'm Mabel, this is my horror blog. TransGirlThing, 20, she/it, not entirely human

i write sometimes, short fics and ideas, i also post ideas and prompts for Call of Cthulhu, the roleplaying game. I'm sure i'll do more over time

I also reblog a lot of horror art, which can be gory (gorey?), just fyi

alt writing blog is @girlthingwriter

Everyone is welcome here, feel free to dm if you like

Also, feel free to send asks, share ideas or ask questions, or write a little horror fic.

Assuming i've remembered everything, take care, enjoy my blog <3

main is @brunklebunkle

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:/

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“London about me gazed at me spectrally. The windows in the white houses were like the eye sockets of skulls. About me my imagination found a thousand noiseless enemies moving”

Henrique Alvim Corrêa (1876-1910) - Windows Like Eye Sockets

illustration from H.G. Wells' 'The War of the Worlds', 1906

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i 🩷 suffering

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All you do is whine

untrue i also suffer, rot, wail, wallow, haunt, mourn and rage

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REBLOG IF ITS OKAY TO TALK TO YOU.

Please.

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i want to see what you see in me

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Spede - sketchbook

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Dmitry Khramtsov

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