The Monster

The creature is petrifying in appearance; it does not seem to resemble any kind of animal native to this world, or any. It has a long, serpentine body, shaped a little like a eel, with six immensely strong, crouching, spidery legs, with which it uses to sprint faster than any galloping horse, to grip onto walls, and even creep upside down on the ceiling. On each of the three toes, on long every paw, is a long talon curved like the crescent moon. The creature has a long, whip-like tail, constantly thrashing back and forth, and it possesses bone-crushing power. It has a long, slender neck, with an oddly large, wedge-shaped head. The mouth is an unnerving, gaping hole; with dozens of knife-like fangs, thrusting irregularly from the dark gums, and some are so long they curve down, past the lower jaw. When it breathes, in a slow, steady, rhythmic way, it vents great, hot, foul-smelling blasts of air; like the stench of flesh and blood and decay. When it opens its mouth, sticky, burning strings of saliva run down to pool on the earth, burning it as acid would.
The monster has a coat of long, sleek fur, constantly changing colour according to its surroundings, making it impossible to spot the creature if it stands totally still for any period of time. Another defense against any attackers is its body temperature – the surface of its skin is blazing hot, charring anything that brushes up against it instantly.
It is a creature born to kill, born for bloody violence, but it is not without intellect. Deep within its shadowy home, filled with the bones of every one of its victims, it broods and plots and schemes endlessly, using its gift of intelligence for nothing but for the pure sake of chaos and misery.
The monster is a terrifying thing at first glance, and every single time it is sighted, it strikes even the bravest heart with an irrational, phobic fear, driving the one who saw it to do anything to escape it – anything, even if it means leaving a brother or sister to its unforgiving jaws. But it is the eyes that drive home something beyond terror, beyond reasoning, beyond description with mere strokes of the pen or movements of the tongue. The eyes are fire, are fire itself, are two deep blazing pyres of evil – those eyes are the very gates of Hell.

The Monster


Joined September 2008

  • Artist

Artist's Description

Wouldn’t want to meet this fellow down a dark alley at night…

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