Placeholder: What dark visions will they unleash? I hear panting in the shadows, a rumbling beneath the floor. Something is stirring in the netherworld, drawn by the call of pen against paper. A sudden gasp tears through the tense quiet. The monsters are coming, scrabbling against the veil that separates our worlds. I must capture their frenzied essence before they tear through, bring strange terrors spilling out into the night. My pen flies, guided by otherworldly hands. A tale is forming, one that will ke What dark visions will they unleash? I hear panting in the shadows, a rumbling beneath the floor. Something is stirring in the netherworld, drawn by the call of pen against paper. A sudden gasp tears through the tense quiet. The monsters are coming, scrabbling against the veil that separates our worlds. I must capture their frenzied essence before they tear through, bring strange terrors spilling out into the night. My pen flies, guided by otherworldly hands. A tale is forming, one that will ke

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@generalpha

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What dark visions will they unleash? I hear panting in the shadows, a rumbling beneath the floor. Something is stirring in the netherworld, drawn by the call of pen against paper. A sudden gasp tears through the tense quiet. The monsters are coming, scrabbling against the veil that separates our worlds. I must capture their frenzied essence before they tear through, bring strange terrors spilling out into the night. My pen flies, guided by otherworldly hands. A tale is forming, one that will ke

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1 year ago

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Infamous Azazel, demon of sacrifice, Bearer of man's sins into the wilderness - What secrets lie beneath your fearsome guise, Your twisted horns and talons sharp as knives? Perhaps you too were innocent once, cleansed By desert winds and baptismal rains. But corruption crept in, sin by sin, Until your heart as black as soot became.
Azazel's true face leers from the dark. No longer cloaked in shadow, but exposed— A being woven of pure malice and spite, With serpents coiled where hair should frame his face. Eyes black as endless voids reflect no soul, Only an endless hunger to defile, destroy. His claws are jagged shards of obsidian. The very air contorts around his form, Reality rejecting such wickedness—
The Slavs knew well enough to fear him. A god of this primeval underworld, both venerated and cursed in turns. King of this pit where myths were born. But Alex had come to face no mere idol - Khors haunted her dreams, this blight that had driven her mother to the brink. Beyond the tomb's threshold, something was awakening. Slithering over stone like a loathsome serpent roused from slumber. Two baleful orbs blinked open, choking the passage in a miasma like the mouth of Hell. Alex clutched her bl
Azazel's true face leers from the dark. No longer cloaked in shadow, but exposed— A being woven of pure malice and spite, With serpents coiled where hair should frame his face. Eyes black as endless voids reflect no soul, Only an endless hunger to defile, destroy. His claws are jagged shards of obsidian. The very air contorts around his form, Reality rejecting such wickedness—
What dark visions will they unleash? I hear panting in the shadows, a rumbling beneath the floor. Something is stirring in the netherworld, drawn by the call of pen against paper. A sudden gasp tears through the tense quiet. The monsters are coming, scrabbling against the veil that separates our worlds. I must capture their frenzied essence before they tear through, bring strange terrors spilling out into the night. My pen flies, guided by otherworldly hands. A tale is forming, one that will ke
What dark visions will they unleash? I hear panting in the shadows, a rumbling beneath the floor. Something is stirring in the netherworld, drawn by the call of pen against paper. A sudden gasp tears through the tense quiet. The monsters are coming, scrabbling against the veil that separates our worlds. I must capture their frenzied essence before they tear through, bring strange terrors spilling out into the night. My pen flies, guided by otherworldly hands. A tale is forming, one that will ke
[art by Dorohedoro] Necromancy is the summoning of and speech with the dead, as is shown by its etymology; for it is derived from the Greek word Nekros, meaning a corpse, and Manteia, meaning divination. And they accomplish this by working some spell over the blood of a man or some animal, knowing that the devil delights in such sin, and loves blood and the pouring out of blood. Wherefore, when they think that they call the dead from hell to answer their questions, it is the devils in the likene
I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle babe. This new Death... She's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong. There has to be another way. Well, there's not. Now, I know you don't like it, and I don't really care. 'Cause you just heard it from God Himself
Infamous Azazel, demon of sacrifice, Bearer of man's sins into the wilderness - What secrets lie beneath your fearsome guise, Your twisted horns and talons sharp as knives? Perhaps you too were innocent once, cleansed By desert winds and baptismal rains. But corruption crept in, sin by sin, Until your heart as black as soot became.
The Slavs knew well enough to fear him. A god of this primeval underworld, both venerated and cursed in turns. King of this pit where myths were born. But Alex had come to face no mere idol - Khors haunted her dreams, this blight that had driven her mother to the brink. Beyond the tomb's threshold, something was awakening. Slithering over stone like a loathsome serpent roused from slumber. Two baleful orbs blinked open, choking the passage in a miasma like the mouth of Hell. Alex clutched her bl
What dark visions will they unleash? I hear panting in the shadows, a rumbling beneath the floor. Something is stirring in the netherworld, drawn by the call of pen against paper. A sudden gasp tears through the tense quiet. The monsters are coming, scrabbling against the veil that separates our worlds. I must capture their frenzied essence before they tear through, bring strange terrors spilling out into the night. My pen flies, guided by otherworldly hands. A tale is forming, one that will ke
Defiler, tempter, unclean spirit - These titles ring hollow, sound robotic and terse. They fail to capture your complex essence, Your brilliance dimmed by humanity's curse. Somewhere deep beneath that fearsome facade, Behind the hellfire burning in your eyes, There yet remains some fragment, some glimmer Of the light you lost to time and bitter lies.
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