#nightcreatures

Tribal & Monochrome Animal Motifs

"Bodies In Our Wake" Watercolor, 22 x 16". 2022.

Two creatures, both alike in dignity: a love story.

Here it is my friends! I'm so proud and honored to have painted this for Fiends of the Dark III with @wowxwow !

This painting has been a simmering work in progress for a few months and I don't exaggerate when I say it was a really amazing experience to make, I feel like I really tested my own limits and told the story that I wanted to tell. I'm very proud of this work.

This piece is available for purchase on their website, please do go check it out! The show will be up from today through April 22, I'll put the link in my bio. The talent in this show is bonkers and I'm very humbled to be a part of it.

Fiends of the Dark III

Bodies In Our Wake

-

I wonder what the owls think

while I am walking by

far beneath their perches dark

beneath the evening sky.

Looking down upon my form

within the winter white,

walking down the wooded path

upon a winter’s night.

Do they feel pity for

the meandering man below,

watching as he wanders on

not knowing where to go?

Or do they mock his worries,

hoping he will fall

frozen in the drifting snow

that blankets one and all?

Or do they dread his presence,

going quiet as he nears,

the embodiment of annihilation

every creature fears.

But probably, up in the trees

within their kingdom dark,

to them I’m just another shadow

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN LINK

Warnings: Gore, Blood, Horror, Graphic Injury Descriptions. 

—–

“They’re taking people from the village, Hector.” A strong hand pressed against your waist, “They don’t say why. They just take people…children…”

“They are to be herded. No harm will come to you, I promise.” It was whispered against your shoulder as Hector tugged you in close, his arms wrapping tighter, pressing his hot skin against yours in the small bed. It was your home. His tunic and armour hung over the chair, and you eyed the new garments with worry as he pressed his nose into the pillow, tucking your head under his chin.

“You trust them? Fully?” It was anxiety that laced your voice against his chest, your lips brushing against the skin as he frowned, lips pursed, pretty, blue eyes looking down at you. He looked at the furrow in your eyebrows and nodded once. You felt the motion over the top of your head, the forge master nodding against the pillow.

“Is he going to help you, Hector? Are you sure he’s not going to betray your trust?”

“What’s with all these questions…You were never so against this before?” Hector offered, peering down at you.

“I’m worried about you and this vision you now have.”

“Don’t be. We will reshape the world into something truly great.”

“I hope it is…and that you don’t lose yourself while doing it.”

“Never. This is for the greater good, my love, I promise you.”

Blood. He watched the mud mix with streams of it as he disembarked from his horse, a creation of his own, revived from an accident with a fence. It shook its head, eye shaking in its skull. The man laid a hand against its shoulder as he caught his lip between his teeth. The screams had long since died down, yet the town burned as he looked on into the main street. The market was ablaze, the stalls covered in fire as bodies bled out in the gutters. He felt his heart clench as he peered into the blaze. Cho grinned from among the carnage, nails dripping with red before she licked at her claws, teeth bared. He ducked his head as she walked past him, her fingers dragging blood over the sleeve of his shirt, leaving it stained with a reminder.

“Pets don’t get to have lovers.” She rumbled as she slipped past him and into mist, soldiers following, their own fangs dripping with blood.

Only when they were gone did he dare to run, his legs thumping as his mount followed, burning, blue, hellish eyes watching the carnage, blood dripping from its nose as it stumbled sideways and cantered, throwing its head. It was as though it was dancing in the fire. He ran. His lungs burned with fire, ash and soot as he headed to the outskirts, adrenaline thrumming through his body as he searched through the fire. He needed to find you, to know you were okay. He followed the slick cobbled path, his boots slipping in the blood as he turned and dragged himself along the rough wood of the fence, splinters ramming into his fingers as he tore through the picket and to the front door. The home wasn’t burning. Hector dragged the front door open, blue eyes wide as his silver curls of hair stuck to his cheeks, clinging with sweat, blood and grime. A building behind him groaned and gave way with a slam, the fire eating the wooden structure. Hector threw the door open, screaming your name, howling it into the house as he walked blood over the clean wooden floor.

“Please! Please, where are you?!” He ripped open the door to your room and cried, tears dripping over his cheeks and down his nose as he collapsed to his knees.

The sheets were red. He screeched against the floor at the sight, his fists clenched, pushing splinters and dirt further into his skin and under his nails before he dared to peak up again at the sight. A blood covered arm hung from the bed, neck torn open and guts hanging by your arm. He retched at the sight, crawling closer across the floor, feet slipping from under him as he reached to tuck your innards back into your stomach, snot dripping from his nose as his hands slipped with blood and mucus. The guts flopped over your clothing as he reached for the sheets, fisting them in his hands as he looked at your face. Hector reached for your face, stroking his fingers over your stained cheeks as he looked into glassy, ghost-like eyes. He sobbed into his forearms against the blood-soaked bedding before reaching for his belt, clenching the handle of his hammer as he shook, anger and agony burning in his eyes and throat. Blue magic rippled over his fingers as he turned your head, wishing the blood and death away with his eyes as he held the forge weapon in shaking hands.

You would never be who you were.

He raised the hammer and struck.

You would never be the person he loved again.

“Hector.” Isaac’s voice rang through the doorway, his deep eyes boring into Hector’s back as he took a step into the room, “When will you stop this foolery? Playing with…pets.” He spoke with venom as he peered at the atrocity chained in the corner, spitting poison at him as he walked in a slow circle around to his associate.

“I do not make a mockery of your hobbies, Isaac, do not make a mockery of mine.” Hector ignored him, raising his hammer on his latest creation, watching the night creature begin to form, nose twisting as the dead body howled a terrible scream. The creature in the corner hissed at its brethren, watching with multiple wide snake eyes as he withdrew.

“This is not a hobby. It is cruel.” Isaac watched the night creature leave to join its brethren as Hector wiped at his face, taking away the sweat as he followed his companion’s eyes. He peered at the feathered and scaled night creature. Its four snake eyes turned on him, wings twitching before it revealed a maw full of teeth, venom dripping from the fangs. He peered at it with fondness, which was not lost on Isaac.

“It is not them, Hector, you would do well to remember that when it eats you.” He snorted before curling a finger, vampire soldiers and night creatures alike dragging seven new bodies into his forge.

“Can you not handle these ones?” Hector spat venomously, like a child, his blue eyes fierce.

“I could, but I have prior engagements with Dracula.” Isaac smirked, amused by Hector’s petulance, before leaving, closing the door softly behind him and the entourage. Hector sighed, sucking his teeth as he gazed at the new pile of dead bodies. The night creature curled in the corner, claws reaching to tug at the chain around its neck again.

“Stop that.” He uttered softly, reaching to drag a body from the pile. He raised his hammer with a deep breath and struck, watching the creature of night tear through, nose upturned as it reached for the new bodies in the pile greedily, “Not you. Take it over there.” Hector scolded, watching the creature drag a body over towards his pet in the corner. The night creature flapped its stubby wings, eyes rolling before it dragged the corpse close and opened its great mouth, holding the body between its claws before it slid it down its gullet, teeth snapping, sending sprays of blood over the stone as it gulped, swallowed and snarled.

Hector hummed, watching the next body get dragged over to the table. He continued to work as the scales of the beast shifted and rubbed against one another in the corner. Blue fire burned as it coiled over itself, the forge master ignoring the placated beast in favour of making fresh meat for his master’s army. As his hammer slammed against the stone table, he gazed at the beast, eyes tired eventually with the effort of making so many new monsters. Hector placed the hammer down, shooing away the creatures to the holds before reaching for his pet on the floor. The little dog grunted as he picked it up, tongue hanging out of its rotten cheek as he stroked the wiry fur on top of its head. Hector placed it down before looking at the beast in the corner. With a deep breath he walked forwards, boots stepping in blood as he crouched next to the monster. He pushed a hand into the feathers of its wings and smiled.

“Dracula wasn’t the reason you died, my love.” He promised, stroking the scales as the night creature rumbled, scales flaring against his palm as reptilian eyes peered at him through the coils of its tail, “This fate wasn’t your fault, nor mine…But we are together still.” Hector leaned forwards, slipping to his knees as he pressed his head to the muzzle. He felt wings open as the night creature sat, content and at ease in its master’s arms.

“I am not them.” It whispered, but the forge master ignored its words, “But I can remember.”

Ronnie Spector che canta "Be my baby" dopo essersi persa in un bosco: ecco una di quelle cose che non vi ricapiterà mai più di vedere nella vita (credo).