Monster MashUp Contest Voting Re-Opens

After the Monster MashUp Voting debacle earlier this week (one NMP contributor called it ‘IdeaScaleGate’), we have been working hard on finding a proper solution for the contest. While there are no doubt many solutions to this issue, we have decided that voting will be restricted to only those who submitted Entries into the contest and to Nevermet Press Content Developers (check your Inbox!). Basically trusted sources. This should prevent all possibilities of fraud, while keeping it more open than just a “NMP decides who wins” approach. After all, we wanted to go for pure, bleeding edge crowdsourcing for this contest – but in the final analysis it’s just not going to work. That being said – please feel free to leave your unofficial vote in the comments section of this post. We’d love to hear what your top three picks of the litter are!

Voting will start today and hopefully we’ll have all the votes back by Tuesday. We’ll announce the winners of the contest towards the end of next week. Jump over the original announcement to check out the cool prizes that are at stake! Now for the good stuff.

First, the awesome illustration that Rob Torno contributed to kick this contest off. Then the entries (ranked in no particular order)!

WHAT’S THIS MONSTER’S STORY?

ENTRY#1

On a dark night a hooded figure dabbled with things that should be left alone. When the ritual was complete, the person in the robes immediately realized his folly as four unspeakably nasty creatures found themselves wrenched from their plane of existence. Feeling his control of the creatures slipping as they fought to escape the circle of power that held them within—the robed man uttered some words of power in an attempt to send them back to the abyss from whence they came. His knowledge of such things however, was lacking, and instead of banishment, the creatures found themselves merged into one. The creature was furious, and confused, and easier to contain than the prior set of four. The hooded figure chuckled to itself thinking of the fine set of mystical powers it was developing.

Once the creature calmed down the hooded person thought it would be an easy task to contain, capture, and train the mutation—after all, it was only six or so inches tall. Unfortunately, that was the last mistake to ever be made by the figure in the hood, on this or any future night. The fury released upon him, in the moment immediately following the breaking of the circle that contained the creature that once was four, left the hooded being in a state that is unfathomable; for the damage was not merely physical. The damage scared the being for life—physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. While his physical form was being ripped apart, his intangible essence was flayed by the extra “eye” created in the merging of the beasts.

Unable to speak coherently, no one ever knew what destroyed the person. The hooded being was placed in an institution, so that it could not be seen or heard from the duration of its miserable mortal existence.

ENTRY#2

Harir had been a fine looking lad, with curled, flowing tresses and large dark eyes. A favorite of ladies, he beguiled and made himself familiar with many.

However, his passion had fixed on the sweet Chalih, who was promised to a vengeful sorcerer Delo. Wantonly he’d hang upon her lips in adourus abandon, until one day Delo had found Harir out.

Delo placed a terrible curse on the young man. Harir would forever be forfeit his beautiful countenance.

Harir would turn to stone if light or human eyes were set upon him. No longer would the beast, befoul marriage beds and maiden’s virtue. No one ever knew that the charming young man would live out his existence as a hideous, and lonely beast only free to move about in darkness and solitude.

Over time Chalih forgot about Harir and married Delo. Determined to do something, the monster moved through the nightly shadows making his way to his beloved Chalih. His heart wept with loss and pain as he climbed the high fortress wall by tentacle and claw, until he reached her chamber window.

The loneliness and remorse choked the erstwhile Harir, he clawed angrily at the stone portal. Brought to wakefulness by the sound, Chalih looked to the window and screamed, instantly Harir turned to stone and toppled to the ground where he became so much rubble.

ENTRY#3

I am the son of the stars. Down from the heavens I descended, mutilated, burned, contorted by my descent, twisted beyond recognition as I touched the surface of the earth. Rays become claws, my aura became my body, wiry and perverse.

A fey magic runs through my blood, the magic of the stars, the magic of the moon. It has been rebirthed into something fell, something ancient. It cries for more, for its brother magic from the earth. I must unite them. I am hunger, I am thirst.

I am the fire within the night. I devour all. Within my claws, life will find its end, magic consumed to fill my body. I am the prince of the heavens. I am the lord of the lowest realms. I shall devour what lies in this world.

ENTRY#4

The Black Zorgorroth wait in the cold darkness of the interstellar void, reaching out with their powerful minds to those who would make a pact to trade some of their humanity for greater knowledge and ability with the dark arts.

These seeds of evil are summoned in eldritch rituals and bound to a willing human host. They extend life and grant heightened magical ability, while they slowly grow within an extra-dimensional space within the summoners brain, feeding off their magical energies.

As the Black Zorgorroth matures it exerts increasing influence over the thoughts of it’s host. Those with powerful minds can hold the symbiote in check and continue to draw on it’s arcane enhancing abilities. The weak-willed soon find themselves dominated by an alien intelligence, and quicken it’s maturation process.

After a decades long incubation the creature is painfully disgorged from the summoner as it emerges from its extra-dimensional space and expands to full size. Even if the former hosts survives this process, the adult Black Zorgorroth is a writhing mass of claws, teeth and tentacles, with malevolent purpose towards all other living things. Even worse, the creature is immune to any spell that the summoner cast while it was gestating.

ENTRY#5

They say it came from outside, a cylindrical monster that they dared not name. It had bones. It must have had bones, it had knees, paws with terrible claws, jaws. Yet the bones wobbled and wiggled, like they didn’t like existing, and lashed out at anything that moved. Some say that it uses open portals as a way to move between Outside, and here. I think they think here is inside. Last time someone saw it, it came through a window of a flower shop and ate some poor flower girl and all the customers. It’s screech is a devil’s choir of horror, more terrifying then a dragon’s roar.

There are some that say it has four minds, and that it sees with three eyes with each mind. I think they all are wrong. I say it has five, because when I saw it, that one time, there was this central eye, and it didn’t look at where the others were. It looked straight at me. Like it belonged to something outside of that body. Like maybe there were more of them, and they all were waiting out there, in that star filled outside, and they all wanted to come in. Shutter your windows, brick them up. They can’t come inside if it’s closed. Glass is no protection, they can see in. Must brick up your windows, shut them all. Else you risk letting those that live outside in.

ENTRY#6

The monster claws at the surface of reality, tunneling through the brick wall that holds the night at bay. Uncountable arms scramble through the hole, five holding it open just long enough for it to slip through into our existence. Here it plagues our villages, abducting our children and taunting our simple brains with it’s twisted body and rotationally symmetric face.

It moves on, away from it’s celestial plane. It lands on my earth, quietly, caught by it’s muscular arms. It focuses eight different eyes on separate targets, keeping the central ninth eye focused on it’s surroundings. At last it chooses it’s prey. A mass of tentacles, arms, legs and claws moves forward. It moves slowly but stealthily and well-guarded. Anything that tried to sneak up on the monster would have it’s end in a matter of seconds.

The monster actually harbors a revenge in it’s normally short-sighted brain for one such hero. A brave lad once managed to land a blow on it’s body. The monster has a scar there from the battle, and nearly lost a limb in the process. Now it likes to periodically terrorize the Earth and it’s horrible four-limbed spawn. It forgot the identity of the wretched human that scarred it long ago. In fact, it cannot remember if it even killed him. Even so, the monster is now on an irrational vengeance against all human life.

ENTRY#7

It was a forgotten thing. Abandoned to the darksome levels of its master’s lair, those overlooked by the looters who had followed the initial murderers and thieves who had slain the kindly old wizard. It lived on in darkness. Locked away behind secret panels and hidden passages. It brooded and schemed and slowly, diligently it read and studied the scrolls and the tomes, the journals and the grimoires of its dead master. It learned dark things. A creature of magic itself, a lowly homunculus who had worked long and hard to become a familiar, it spent every hour of every day poring over the books of its master. It read the most basic treatises and taught itself the least cantrips that it might unlock more and more secrets and make use of the things within the secret laboratory. It grew stronger from bathing in eldritch substances and consuming potions. It grew smarter and more powerful as it assimilated the whispering spells that pounced into its mind from ancient scrolls. It performed minor rites that opened the way to further rituals that empowered and infused it with knowledge and unholy might. It mastered weird techniques that mutated its body in unspeakable ways no sane human would ever have dared, but it was not human. Power warped its body and twisted its mind. Power that derived from festering hatred and demoniacal rites no human could ever hope to survive. The kind of power it would require to wreck vengeance upon those who had cut down its master in cold blood. No mere familiar. Not just a homunculus. Not any more. It was the master now. And it was coming for its enemies with the implacable wrath of a being that never had a soul to lose in the first place.

ENTRY#8

When the Far Gods first heard the whispers of mortals on the astral wind they became curious and pierced open the film between worlds. Stretching their alien intellect forward they followed the calls of the mad cultists who summoned them to this reality. In a grand ruined monastery adrift in the Astral Sea they discovered the mortals who called to them.

Revolted by their forms the Far Gods reached out with thoughts too vile to speak and changed the cultists who summoned them into shapes more pleasing. Mouths sprouted from hands and feet, eyes boiled away to reform in different places on the body, limbs twisted and became tentacle.

The leader of the cult a foul wizard named Chetourez chortled with glee as his flock grew beyond their meager human frames. Having long ago scared his own flesh with arcane runes meant to absorb the energy of the Far God’s home he felt prepared for the power that would flow forth over him. He was mistaken.

The power flowed over him and overloaded the meager defenses he had erected. The power fascinated him, it delighted his every sense as it consumed him and he hungered for more. The glyphs on his skin pulsed and from every one of them twisted limbs burst forth, his head extended and all the nine glyphs of seeing on his face became nine eyes granting him vision across all spectrums.

This new beast, the GlyphWyrd pulled its twisted mass across the room and descended on its former followers. Gorging itself on their flesh it hungrily devoured the taint of the Far Gods in each of them craving more of the raw alien energy.

Now the Beast stalks the places between the realities, hungrily hunting its fellow followers of the Far Gods to consume their taint.

ENTRY#9

The Pentafiend is a rare beast, thought to be the manifestation of a rage demon from an outer dimension. Often tied to rare and potent items, the Pentafiend enters our world when that item is stolen. It can exist in a physical state for no more than one week.

The Pentafiend will stop at nothing to recover the object it is tied too. It possesses a cunning intelligence and is strong enough to smash through foot thick stone walls. Often it will wait to ambush whomever has taken its object but if it feels that is has no choice or that it is running out of time it will make a direct, physical assault. If given the chance it will consume whomever has taken its object.

The Pentafiend can move rapidly through a variety of terrain using it’s five legs and five arms. It has little problem scaling trees or walls and prefers to keep to the shadows and move at night. It possesses keen site even in low light.

Once the Pentafiend has recovered the object it is tied to, it will return it to its master and its physical manifestation in the world will cease to exist. That is, until the object is stolen again.

ENTRY#10

Yr’thal
For eons the dark powers of Chaos have attempted to pierce the veil between worlds, to escape the cold darkness of the outer planes and swarm into the prime planes unopposed. Yr’thal defends the tear between worlds. Forsaking its own kind and even its baser instincts to protect a world that profoundly changed it.

In the swirling darkness there is only Chaos. Chaos was all Yr’thal had ever known. It was one of the first creatures through the rift when it suddenly appeared. It was unprepared for what awaited in on the other side. In direct contrast to the outer planes, this plane was one of Order, of Law.

Being exposed to Order on such a grand and wondrous scale changed something fundamentally within Yr’thal. Within this strange new world it found answers to questions it never knew it had been longing to answer. Here it found something wondrous and special, something that should not be destroyed.

Determined to save this plane from destruction Yr’thal went to the portal connecting the two planes and built a gateway. The gateway was constructed in such a way as to reduce the incredible powers of the creatures of chaos. Since Yr’thal was unable to close the breach itself, it vowed to keep it sealed using its own body. So for the last several centuries the portal has been guarded and sealed by Yr’thal.

ENTRY#11

A titanic mind enmeshes my own in its almighty grip and I cannot escape it. Everywhere I turn, every thrashing movement I make, I am faced with this silvery stream of consciousness that is fast becoming part of me and I part of it. That new part of me keeps growing, threatening to overwhelm my pitifully small sense of self with its infinite immensity. This being of vaporous energy is as big as anything I can see and somehow I know that it is bigger than all that I cannot. It fills every space there is to fill, permeates even the most super solid of states, whips and lashes at the boundaries of a fledgling universe, beating against them even as it knocks against my own fragile ego. I am but the flame atop a match in a Jupiter sized hurricane and I feel the inevitability of the rock that I shelter behind being sucked up as if into the unreachable heavens and blown far away into the depths of space, never to be seen again. My very thoughts are being pulled apart and subsumed into an alien cauldron, that if galaxies existed at this point in time, would span everyone of them.

The power of the spell that constrains me mind and reshapes my felsh into this bizarre form is utterly terrifying. What I am now is beyond my understanding. All I feel is horror filled hunger. I am anew.

ENTRY#12

Ebon Assassin
Created by the mad mage Diatoth, the Ebon Assassin is the combination of several creatures from different realms. This creature exists in the real world and nightmares at the same time. It is able to track it’s prey through the nightmare realm, but must enter the real world to kill. Due to displacer beast genes it is never quite where it appears to be, this is not a set distance however, the Assassin can control this at will. Diatoth used these creatures until he mistook his own reflection for an enemy and forgot the command word to call the Assassin off. Since then the Assassins have reproduced and spread throughout all the known worlds. If the command words can ever be discovered again one could potentially control all the Assassins.

ENTRY#13

A creature every space explorer fears to exist and every person who has came across it has faced death. The Xagorian Mallucid is a creature who has mastered the ability to conjure up in its prey’s mind the thing it fears the most, and uses it to paralyze them with that fear so it can attack. When the prey looks at it, It sees its fear. Joints lock and hearts race as even seeing it in its true form is terrifying. Another of its trademark abilities is its screech. Every creature that hears this shrilling piercing sound feels their heart slo to a stop and their thoughts racing to cover their ears, but because of its Nightmarish Vision ability, no one can move.

It can travel at amazing speeds using all of it’s tentacles and limbs at once, rushing towards anything and everything it sees as food. Here is a story from the only survivor of an attack.

“I hid behind a crate, watching as the creature feasted on my father and held others by the other tentacular appendages it had. I watched in horror as It shredded my father apart using it’s mouth. Then it looked my direction, and I saw it turn into the that clown from that oldie, IT. I never wanted to scream so much in my life, but I couldn’t… I just couldn’t. I lost my voice earlier that day, so I guess it saved my life, because the creature turned away, and finished eating my dad in one fell gulp. Then it began to feed on another. When It left, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep for days because of the utter fear that was in my heart from that nocturnal nightmare.”

The stones still smoldered as the Magus stood before his students. Behind him, the Well of Worlds was dark, it’s surface rippling gently.

“It doesn’t have a name” he began “at least not one that is knowable, even to me. The thing comes from a place beyond the worlds, where the light of the stars and the gods shines but dimly. Some warlocks deal with such being, at their own peril, but you all lack the training, as Aldrich so tragically demonstrated.”

“But what was it?” Faris the novice asked.

“It is a thing. Not a beast, creature, or a construct. It is neither demon, devil, nor nightmare of chaos. It is an intelligence from before and beyond. It exists to remake everything in it’s image. If it gains a foothold here on our world it will recreate everything to match it’s alien universe. it strikes at you, it will not only rend your flesh but your very existence. This is why I could not save Aldrich.”

“What do we do if we face them?”

“First, pray that you never face more than one. Should you ever be so unfortunate as to have to face one, avoid striking it physically. While our universe is noxious to them, their very existence is an anathema to ours. You may harm it, or you may not, but striking it will certainly harm you. While you can’t kill it, for it possesses no life, it’s energy and form can be dispersed. Sap it’s energy, blast it apart, do whatever it takes to destroy it. If you can’t destroy it, contain it. If you can’t contain it…” the Magus sighed “then the gods help us all.”

ENTRY#15

Speedy and resilient, the Omenbrain cannot be seen for much more than a second. The power it has over your brain is so overpowering, it can instill random gibbering if it has the energy to direct all nine eyes at you.

Stories of the Omenbrain are spread throughout history and the world. Almost every civilization has a story about the awesome monster that reduces people to madness and ruin.

One such story of destruction comes from the ancient warrior tribes in the north. Timofiss was the champion in his clan. In the middle of a heated battle, his enemies begin to shriek and cover their eyes. Timofiss, confused, turned around. He was met by a writhing creature with four mouths, all drooling. He could not move his eyes from the terrifying face to the threatening arms that surrounded the Omenbrain. He lost his mind within seconds.

He fell to his knees, holding his head in pain. The monster would not look away, but he could not break the gaze. A minute of searing pain went through him before the monster blinked away. The battle resumed, but Timofiss was not part of it. Killed in a single blow, his last words was a jumble of words and screams. Though the generations his predictions were passed down.

Now we cannot trust thousand-year old hearsay. But secret cults and curious historians know the truth. According to the last words of the crazed Timofiss, we were all doomed to be judged by the Omenbrain. The best would survive and go on to fight an epic war against their ancestors. The worst would be condemned to madness, crushing the mind and soul, priming the body for the insertion of artificial sentience in order to fight the coming war.

ENTRY#16

[INTERROGATION:>SPECIMEN=Alph126] It is said that man seeks knowledge, and that is what sets him apart from beasts. It is this hunger for the unknown that led us to seek… Alternative methods of attaining enlightenment. Jem had found a book, you see? He wouldn’t say where, but when he talked of it his eyes would light up and a smile found his face; nothing else did that for him. He didn’t dare read from it though. Me and the guys were always asking him about it but he wouldn’t make a sound. Out of curiosity I flipped the cover and started scanning, but I found my lips following along unbidden. The awful incantation rolled off my tongue and a red mist suffused Jem. He let out a cry and sprung up into the air, like some devil puppeteer suddenly yanked him up. His mouth stretched so wide… It wasn’t natural. Wriggling black tentacles whipped out from his gullet and lashed at us. He burst in a shower of gore and that freak crouched low and growled at us. It was covered in his meat and stained with his blood. It shrieked so loud my ears bled. It promptly sprung forward and gutted the rest of my friends like cattle. It gave me one last lingering look and slunk into the shadows. I nearly drunk myself to death trying to forget. Why do you want to- [RECORDING:>DELETED]

ENTRY#17

Flanked by four small maws filled with needle sharp teeth, eight unblinking orange eyes encircle a ninth central eye in the crinkled face of this dark wiry creature. Clawed limbs and sinewy tentacles protrude from the muscular trunk of its lower body like a mass of writhing roots and vines. About the size of a large dog, this radial creature skitters about unnaturally, quickly changing directions and scaling any surface with disturbing grace.

Such is its ease of movement that time and space prove no barrier to this creature. It easily tears through the fabric of reality and its nine eyes see countless time lines and futures at once. It acts based on these stimuli and is highly unpredictable as it performs seemingly random acts – usually of violence – as it attempts to steer the world towards some unknowable fate.

Often sighted during disasters, wars and assassinations, many believe this creature appears at such times to ensure that these history-shaping events unfold as it wishes. Some claim that the creature does not just sway the outcome of these events, but meticulously influences smaller related events and key moments in the past to set up these eventual catastrophes.

Moderately capable in combat, this creature prefers to wait in the shadows or in time itself for just the right second to pounce. When overwhelmed, this creature will often come to its own aid – suddenly dozens of future versions of this otherwise unique creature emerge from tears in space to devastate their attackers before promptly returning to their own times leaving volatile gobs of warped reality in their wake. This corruption of space-time can lead to spontaneous changes of history, bringing long-dead villains back to life or even pulling ancient wars, plagues or other threats into the present.

ENTRY#18

Lost your lucky rabbit’s foot?

Sure you put that Hand of Glory on the shelf?

Are eyes of newt missing when you’re sure you’ve stocked up?

You might have a GUTSCRAPE!

Gutscrapes can be an expensive problem for hard-working thaumaturgists like YOU.

Don’t fear – we at Catchett & Sons can help.

Hatched from the lingering aura of humiliation and extended exposure to occult energies on a gobbet of blood or phlegm, gutscrapes are commonly found in the laboratories of necromancers and demonologists. Be warned, they CAN crop up in almost ANY willworkers’ sacred space. Both individuals and swarms have been recorded at shamanic lodges, mechanist workshops, occultech labs and clerical retreats. Agile shapechangers, larval gutscrapes squeeze under doors and through keyholes, sniffing out and then devouring YOUR expensive alchemical ingredients.

The first sign of a gutscrape infestation is missing talismans, tokens and other ingredients. Catch them that early and they’re no more a problem than stinkrats or dire lice. Wait and before you know it, the vermin has grown fat on YOUR property. Adults quickly gain an appetite for more powerful and unique artifacts. YOUR artifacts.

Gutscrapes can not only deplete your lab’s resources. Fully grown, their toxic aura can spread peevishness, ignominy and misery throughout your cabal.

How can we help? Our expert operatives will:

* LOCATE and STERILITY gutscrape nests.
* INOCULATE your lab against further infestations.
* SECURE your space.

Write, visit or etherwave us at our premises on Fell Street.

Catchett & Sons are specialists in occult vermin, rogue devils, SSSBs (SemiSentient Spellcasting Byproducts) and occult security. Registered as such with local authorities.

“Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake’s groan”
Shakespeare: King Henry VI part II III.ii

The ceremony must be conducted under the new moon, the stars being the sole witnesses. Four black dogs consecrated to the goddess will dig up the mandragora from the earth, one for each of the cardinal point. Then, the mastiffs will be sacrificed at a crossroad; their blood will feed Hecate, which is represented by the plant, in the following order: east, south, west, and finally north, each being interspaced with the right offerings, respectively a lit torch made from cedar wood, a key, a serpent, and lastly a bunch composed of aconite, belladonna, cypress branches, dittany, garlic, and yew, which are all associated with this chthonic deity.

If Hecate is pleased with the sacrifice thus offered she will secretly provide the last drop of blood herself, a crimson drip taken from Cerberus, the guardian of the gates of Hades.

If your vengeance is just, if your hatred or odium is strong enough, your convictions unshakable, your goal unequivocal, that you aren’t stopped as the ceremonial unfold, and that you masterfully conduct this ritual, know that Hecate will eagerly answer! The mandrake and the lifeless dogs will merge, becoming but one entity! The curse will be given form, will live in the flesh: The Bloodhound of Hecate will rise from the earth!

Tremble before this beast and show it all due respect! This monster is a rare gift, the holy (or unholy) tool of you revenge! A relentless hunter that will sow terror in all those who will but fleetingly glimpse such spawn from the Underworld! An implacable killer that will deliver a just punishment to those who have wronged you, by poison, many fanged jaws, and the moans of many thousand cursed souls altogether!

ENTRY#20

I dreamt about the void,
Looked down The Well of Heavens,
Seen the Dreadful Nightmare etched upon a field of purple stars,
And those eyes, like dead suns, have burned my soul.

The Heavenly Beast was knowledgeable,
Aware about my fragile psyche,
Madness was but within an inch,
And those claws were already tearing at my mind.

Is this reality or illusion? The leathery touch seem quite genuine,
And my screams of utter terror are just as real,
But who will hear?
Who will answer as the ravening beast eats my mind?

I now hear the voices, the moans of a thousand accursed souls,
And without thinking my own incoherent babble joins the chorus,
My mind has been swept away in but a fleeting moment,
My conscience is now lost, drifting amongst the cold stars.

But one constellation, that of The Dark Many-Tentacles Sirius,
All the lost souls, the lost mind drifting towards the maws,
To be devour by this otherworldly bloodhound,
To be utterly consumed…

ENTRY#21

The guardians are the protectors of the portals between the dimensions. Krll takes her job seriously. She knows that she is one of the last guardians and unless she finds a mate soon, there will be a gap at her portal, but to find a mate, she must leave her portal. She is torn between her current duty and her eternal duty. She hopes for someone to come and relieve her so she can mate and return, but she knows that time is running out.

ENTRY#22

Long ago in more chaotic times, man was even more ruthless of heart and greedy of wallet. Wars waged over the kingdoms like a perpetual rain. Born from the impurities of their hearts came a single being, an apathetic creature without real desire. And as the creature painted itself human and wandered the countryside, assimilating to the horror of man, its heart grew dark.

In cold, heartless, cruelty it lashed out on every nation, becoming a force of its own. Its wrath was so great, that it quickly became the focus of all. Banding together, the warring states set aside their squabbles to unite against this new evil and a bloody battle pursued.

A united group, a brotherhood of great sorcerers was formed from the new alliance. Using powerful magicks, they removed the vile creature from this world. Seeing the atrocities that their wickedness had created, the kingdoms created an age of great tranquility… but as the memories fade, and war wages, the tranquility is nearly gone…

ENTRY#23

Popular legend holds that the cuthkin is a thing of nightmares – and this is not far from the truth. These parasitic aberrations are typically housecat sized and feed on the stresses a host experiences. As they rarely have the power to compel a host to certain actions, it is common for them to make use of subtle imagery that evokes horrid dreams in a sleeping host. Victims often speak of sleep deprivation and nightmares for months before the cause is discovered.

A cuthkin borrows into the body of a host, wrapping itself around the upper spine. This is usually a painless process, as the cuthkin secretes a toxin that acts as a powerful local sedative; though when it feels threatened the secretion changes, causing extreme and paralyzing pain in the host.

The presence of a cuthkin is marked by thick dark blotches under the skin on a victim’s back. The subtly animated pattern formed by the blotches often mark a host as a consort of demons or progeny of devils, causing persecution and revilement of a host that is already suffering from acute sleep deprivation and social abandonment. It is unfortunate, but true, that most hosts end up slaughtered by an overzealous mob or become the victim of suicide.

ENTRY#24

It was intended to be a toy for the High Wizard’s granddaughter, a fantastical kaleidoscopic scrying glass of colorful, whirling views of faraway places. But now it was little more than shredded brass and shards of blackened crystal. Strewn about the room, too, lay the bent remains of a handful of unfortunate people, and the dozens of rats that nibbled on them.

A bit above the wreckage, the great silvery mounting ring still hovered. As if the ghost of the apparatus still focused and reflected its light, the empty hexagon dumbly continued scanning across the worlds, showing its playful, tumbling views of things afar: a self-similar city of lights folding into a triangular tundra flowering into a faceted cathedral and collapsing into a segmented seascape then blossoming into a sultan’s polygonal palace….

And as befitted each mutating image in the silvery frame, a wind rushed inward or out, warm or cold, damp or dry. The device was no longer a mere window, but a hole.

The rats, of course, were oblivious to all this– until that one particular moment when the rats suddenly ceased their gorging, lifted their glistening red snouts in unison, and looked into the silvery hexagon, transfixed by the tumbling spectacle of color and symmetry. For many long minutes they simply sat and stared, the light glinting weirdly off their dozens of beady eyes and working some unknown enchantment upon their dozens of tiny minds.

Then, with a chorus of maddened squeaks, the rats swarmed forward, into the hovering ring, and onward to random destinations throughout the worlds. And as each vermin crossed through, it was multiplied and bent and reflected like the light, neatly kaleidoscoped into a monstrous symmetry of teeth, tails and magic-crazed eyes.

And so began the Plague of the Quadrats.

ENTRY#25

Born of dark magic, the Shadow Eater walks by night at the bidding of its master. Only great pain and sorrow can bring it into the world, say the grimoires; so it can be summoned only by human sacrifice, or else a heart and mind broken beyond mending. Once called, the monster needs ever more pain and sorrow on which to feed. Never found in lonely places or ruins, the Shadow Eater seeks out human suffering in the places where they thrive and grow: cities and towns, hospitals and battlefields, palaces and the humblest cottages. Using its demonic senses, it sniffs out the misery of life. The creature is able to wrap itself in a cloak of shadow and silence, climbing walls unnoticed and entering houses unseen through open windows. Waving its tentacles in a hypnotic dance, the Shadow Eater attaches its fanged mouth to its victim and drains away memories, emotions, and the very life essence of its victims. Sometimes it drains away everything from its prey, leaving an empty shell, living but mindless; sometimes it lurks in an area, preying slowly upon an entire population. Sages tell that those suffering the predation of the Shadow Eater grow to hate the light and the company of other people, seeking solitude and shadows as they grow ever weaker. It is said that this creature (or creatures— no one is sure if there is only one, or an entire breed of them) is summoned from its infernal realm by wizards seeking vengeance after some great wrong they have suffered; and that their hideous power to drain a man’s memories has sometimes even been purposely sought by those wracked by sorrow, and desperate to forget at any price…

ENTRY#26

She pressed down hard with the dagger, leaning with all her weight. With a sickening crack, the corpse’s jaw gave way and long strands of sleek black flesh bulged forth from its mouth. What in the Hells?!? In a flurry, a wriggling mélange of claws, teeth, and tentacles flew at her. Noria recoiled, falling backwards as a dark form whizzed over her head, thudding into the wall. She scrambled to her feet as the creature… whatever it was… disappeared. Her eyes darted back to her dead lifemate. The head tilted back impossibly far, broken jaw hanging low. With a mix of horror and grief, she leaned down and looked closer. The interior of his mouth and head were gone, the skull cavity hollowed out by the beast like a grisly Harvest Day pumpkin. This explains it, she thought. The brooding… the disappearances… all so unlike her Graco. He had never once raised a hand to anyone before a week ago. It wasn’t you. It was that thing, all along. That thing inside your head. She leaned down to caress his torn face, never noticing the minute shadow creeping ever closer to her. Minutes later, Noria opened her eyes and gazed groggily into nine yellow eyes framing the face of a nightmare. Did something hit me? A shifting, demonic form stood on her chest, a little over a foot tall, a spicy-sweet mist emanating from pores around its face. How lovely, thought Noria, breathing deeply as the cinnamon mist filled her lungs. Everything seemed so clear, so wonderful. As muscled claws began to tear out her tongue, she smiled and thought of Graco, and how well all this worked out in the end. She sighed contently and opened her mouth wide as the beast pressed its gory face to her lips.

ENTRY#27

Blessed are those who know not the horror that is the Vat’char.

The Vat’char are things bred from foul cauldrons, formed of man, leech, and predatory feline. They are known most for their glowing orange eyes, mistaken at night as a kind of beautiful glowing flower by those unfortunate enough to come upon them. They lair in mud wallows and marshlands, coming out at night to hunt. Vat’char are ambush hunters, and feed on the blood and soft tissue of their prey. Their victim’s are easily identified: thins husks with a tell-tale bite mark in the shape of an azalea.

To take one on is to fight against tooth, claw, and vicious tentacle. To fight one alone is certain death. Paralytic venom drips from the barbed tips of its tentacles, and its eyes see through shadow and water. It chooses to strike its victim first with its sting, then latch on and begin feeding. Its hunger is voracious, and it cares little what struggle its prey will put up.

Vat’Char are bred by the depraved minds of those too lost in the eldritch secrets of dark magic to care about what they are unleashing. Some foul sorcerers keep them as pets, and more often then not these fools become the Vat’char’s meal.

ENTRY#28

When it’s not just quiet, but too quiet. When you cannot hear the sound of your own feet on the ground or the breath on your lips, a Hush is upon you. It is a beast that extends from the shadows, all claws and stingers with nine bright golden eyes in its flat face. Be quick and move as far as you can from dark cracks and corners, for that’s where it makes its lair. If it catches you, it will drive its claws into your limbs and pin you against the ground. It will position its face inches from yours and sting you, probing your body for painful and sensitive areas. It desires your screams. Not that you or anyone nearby will hear a thing. You will suffer in silence, possibly within reach of a sleeping or oblivious friend. That’s why it’s called a Hush. It eats your cries for help, feasts on noise, greedily devouring your sobs and pleas for mercy through its unblinking, flat face.

ENTRY#29

removed

ENTRY#30

…the wave tore at the fabric…ripped us through. Ripped us through to the realm beyond…the Lower Place…this place…it hurts us…no food for us here…no food like we know…the energies we bathed in…the energies that fed us…no more…so hungry…

…our form…solid now…but there is loss…we are incomplete…we exist but there is no rapport…our hunger grows…this place of solid lines and restricting shapes…each movement brings understanding…and pain…

…some of the shapes move…they have energies…energies we can use…the shapes move quickly but we can wait. We can wait in the darkness…the cold light of distant suns burns us…we will hide and wait…wait for a moving shape…wait until we can feed…

Ripped from a surrealistic realm of non-Euclidean geometry and insanity inducing thoughts, this monster is not here by design, but by accident. A dangerous spell ripped a hole in the universe and this horror was brought through the tear by mistake.

Although normally without a distinct from, our universe has imposed its will upon the creature, giving it a terrifying appearance. Caught in the light, the creature appears as an abominable combination of octopus, lamprey, and spider. It’s flesh burned by even the light of distant suns, this creature hides in utter darkness.

Cut off from its home universe, this creature no longer has access to the bizarre energies it fed upon there. Nonetheless, the creature has discovered that bio-electrical energy will feed it – at least for awhile. While this energy can be supplied by any living creature, sentient beings provide the richest and most satisfying meals. With enough such meals, perhaps it can make its way back home.

Waiting in the dark, its horrible red eyes staring into the blackness, this nightmare awaits. A living hunger that wants nothing but to feed.

Four. Four is the sacred number. Or is it the profane number? Four and four and four and four. Four grasping hands with rending claws, four curving tentacles, four toothy maws, four and four again eyes around one central eye. The eye that sees; the eye that knows. Such beautiful symmetry that man has created. Or summoned? Or was it here all along? I no longer know.

It climbed out of the well of stars one night. Or was it only a well of water then, and the stars merely reflections? I have had such trouble seeing, lately. But why shouldn’t I? I have only two eyes, and two eyes see so much less than four and four again and one more. The creature sees much, much more than I.

It looks into the hearts of men and sees our sins, our fears. It sees too our desires, and those might be worse. Perhaps that is why it has eaten so many of us. We brought it here, or created it, and now it will cleanse us of our wrongs.

It stands as high as a man, crouched on powerful limbs, but it can rear up to twice again a tall man’s height. Its slick skin reflects the sky; blue-black for night, pale blue for day, and the most delicate orange hues at dawn and dusk. It never sleeps nor rests, but watches, and judges. And eats.

Only its eyes never change color. They glow with reflected flames, the flames to which it sends its prey. I can see them now, as it watches me.

Will you find this parchment stained with my life’s blood? Will you hear in your mind my echoed cries as you read this? I can but hope they serve as a warning. Repent.

[signature unreadable]

ENTRY#32

Its inside me something, clawing down into my organs, making room to live inside of me. It yowls and scratches getting deep down where no one can reach it. It growls, it curses and it hisses at me that this is what I asked for. He pushes at my liver volleying it around still trying to make a womb in my body. What is this seething, breathing demon that is hollowing me out? I scream in response falling to my knees, writhing in agony as it kicks and claws more. My eyes streaming with tears, my body fights to reject it, vomiting onto the hardwood. Tasting my own blood from the internal damage, I scream again.

“Stop! Why are you doing this to me?” I beg and question as he continues to possess me.

“I am here to help you.” He says calmly, as he settles inside of me.

“Stop it, you’re not helping me you’re killing me.” My voice wavering and weak.

“No, this is killing you.” He argues and in an instant I feel its claws gripping at my heart, he toys with it feeling it race in his hands. “This is tormenting you child, it brings you much more pain than I ever could.”

I plead with it to release my thumping heart from its dagger-sharp nails. It merely laughs, deep belly laughs echoing inside my chest cavity. With one quick tug I feel him pluck it out of place. Holding my throbbing hemorrhaging muscle in his palm. “I am here to help you, I’m giving you what you prayed for. You never will be in pain, you will never again cry over promises forgotten, you will never again feel hope or loss. You should thank me, I have never had to swallow such a heavy one as this.” He spoke to me as I collapse into my own pile of sick on the floorboards. He let out one more small cynical laugh before opening his jaw and biting into it. The sound of the sour beating stopped, replaced by gnashing of his teeth and the smacking of his lips as he ate my heart. Finished, it starts to claw back out, up my throat, hooking its claws into the tissue as it wriggles free from me. My body thrashing on the floor, back and forth my lungs inhaling sharp gusts of air. Letting out scream after blood curdling scream as he exorcises himself from my pathetic form. Just as quickly as it came it was gone, as if it were a mere nightmare. I put my hand to my chest, feeling trying to find a heart beat, but this was no dream. Unphased, I realized he had given me what I had prayed for, for so long. I no longer felt pain, or loss, I couldn’t feel a thing. He ate my heart.

ENTRY#33

The Keeper is as much the savior of this world as it is a horror beyond reckoning. It keeps the gate between our reality and the Other Realm, being part of both worlds. The mad, horrific entities of the Other Realm would prefer to enter our reality, and yet the Keeper bars the path. However, the Keeper weakens against the onslaught of the mad gods, and the occasional being of Chaos slips past. Some from our world, in their ignorance, think the Keeper is the source of these Chaos-spawn and seek to destroy it. Woe to the world if they should succeed.