Spoooooooky Halloween Competition

[Sylvia]

Fwergyy Peeps of the Fwergisphere, lend me ur ears!

You know the drill, here's a Halloween themed competition for you to get involved in.

Your task is to:

Draw, or describe, the scariest monster you can.

1st Prize: exclusive forum medal and an FWG shirt with any text you want on the back of the shirt (remember it needs to fit on the shirt back)

2nd and 3rd prize: exclusive medal

Go Go Go!

[Zia-]

Lliedr Crud, also known as the Cradle Snatcher is a demon found namely in Wales. This thing, is described as appearing as a tall pale emaciated male. Its facial features are gruesome in the least,its large bald head sits on its weak looking body with large eyes peering out of its eyeholes, no eyelids to contain the dark black orbs with red pupils as they roll and turn to face their would be prey. It has no lips to hide the sharp teeth residing in its dark red gums, which appear to bleed profusely all the time, it also has a long slender tongue used to lick the blood from its hands. It seems to shamble along as its thin legs carry its fragile looking body. What appear to be its ribs are shown through its body, with little to no muscle or fat anywhere. If one were to look at its hands, they would see this demonic creature's long spindly fingers, with sharp hooked claws protruding from the ends.

The screech of this thing is enough to unsettle people, as it resembles one dragging their nails along a chalkboard. It can normally be heard after it makes a kill, which is where this demon gets its name, it prefers to feed on the organs of the children it slaughters, usually seeking those that cannot easily defend themselves, such as infants and toddlers. however this demon will feast on any aged human given the chance.

It appears in the room of its prey during the night, slowly trudging towards its sleeping victim before piecing its flesh with its claws. It then tears the flesh away from the organs of the newly deceased before scooping them into its mouth. If the parents are alerted, the Cradle Snatcher will assume a foetal position in the darkest part of the room. As the parent enters and finds their child shredded to pieces and organs missing, it will begin to make a sobbing sound to lure its new victim towards it. As the parent curiously walks towards to source of the noise, they see that its a large humanoid curled up. The last thing they will ever see is the rising of the beings head as its lipless mouth forms a sort of smile. The Lleidr Crud then pounces and kills its new prey before it can escape.

The origins of this being are unknown, but its thought that a failed ritual involving the sacrifice of a child through removing its internal organs spawned this creature, which would solely exist to remove those organs from children and devour them, perhaps in the effort to finish the ritual that took place. Its hunger is also thought to be derived from the sacrificed child's stomach being removed, and that the loss of the child's stomach meant loss of fulfilment for the Lleidr Crud.

[woofwoof]

It creeps upon you like a thief in the night. Footsteps like a cat's, imperceptible to frail human ears. Its slavering jaws drip not saliva, but viscous, clotted blood, which stains its coat of mangy fur a deep, grotesque scarlet. Its eyes are hollow, the pupils like tunnels of endless sorrow and pain, the irises hardly visible but for a thin ring of nauseating green. But the one characteristic that will infinitely describe this creature is this: it is hungry. No, more, it is hunger. The starvation is not only visible in its sunken cheeks and protruding bones, but it screams from the pits of its eyes, it drips with the blood from its withered tongue.

Its hunger is what drives it, what makes it appear, snarling on your doorstep. If you hear its soft whimpers of need, do not hesitate-- run. Do not even look out the window, or you will be lost. As soon as its vacant orbs meet your terrified gaze, you will not even have time to notice its blood-stained chest or the insects chewing on its chafed skin before you have become a morsel to tame the hunger. But it does not tame it. It is still hunger. It will always be hunger.

If you have children, do not merely lock your doors at night. Bar them. Nail them into the walls, the foundation. Never leave the house. The hunger is waiting just outside, sniffing at the threshold for the succulent scent of soft, plentiful flesh-- howling mournfully in absolute desire. If your infant's big round eyes tear up, and whines begin to seep between their plump, new lips, shush them quickly, or the hunger will hear, and the hunger will find a way. The hunger always finds a way.

Some have tried to kill the hunger. They formed mobs with fire and pitchforks and great, sharp knives, and marched into the creaking, lonely forest to slay the beast. Later, their knives and pitchforks were found scattered throughout the dying trees, and their torches merely ashy sticks still clutched in white fingers that are no longer connected to a whole. So they used a different approach-- making their church more grandiose, singing hymns day to night, reading their worn Bibles in front of the fireplace before they slept. The hunger laughed at this, and this time left the Bibles in the unattached, bloodless hands. It cannot be stopped, it cannot be tamed. The hunger is infinite, the hunger is omnipresent, the hunger is inside you.

Yes, the hunger is not a living beast-- oh, did you think it was? No, no, my friend. The hunger is you. It is the yearning in your soul, the worms carving holes in your heart, it is the ache that permeates your tired bones. Its eyes, full of longing and sorrow, are your own. Its bloodied jaws are your sin-covered palms. Its hunger is yours. It will always be yours. Because the hunger cannot be tamed. It can only be fought, but never defeated. For who could quell the temptation, the lust, the craving for anything and everything to satisfy the bottomless pit inside a decaying stomach? Who could defeat themselves? It will never be so. And so the hunger lives on, howling for release, waiting impatiently for more, and more, and more.

- An homage to "The Company of Wolves" by Angela Carter

[Drago]

A cry of horror rang out as yet another corpse fell to the floor. The being behind the madness, nay, the thing that was behind this array of dead bodies that lay upon the blood-stained carpet of the court was standing upright, his form erect as he looked over the last of his victims. Not a hint of emotion shown through the mask which the being wore to conceal his visage. Blood soaked what he wore as clothes, though in reality, he wore the dressings of a corpse, rags that one would find adorn a mummified prince or something of the sort. Black hair hung down from the thing's scalp, a rustled mess resembling that of a rat's nest.

The being bore no weapon, no way to kill anyone by any means, and surely he had not over-powered each of his victims with pure strength, as the thing was a small, thin form. What could have killed these people? What could have caused this much dead with this little effort? These questions could be answered simply by looking down at the corpses adorning the floor. They were soaked in crimson. Their own blood profusely oozing from each of their pores, seeping from everywhere possible on their body. Their clothes turned red over time, even after they already had met their cruel fate. It was true, they did not die from any physical means, in a matter of speaking, they had died from disease.

And it was true and apparent now that the thing was no form of human or creature, but it was a spectral form of sorts. The disease that had killed so many people took upon a physical form to witness the destruction it was able to cause, and came to create this form to allow a physical manifestation of itself, to witness and cause even more destruction at its own hand. The thing allowed it's long, gaunt arms to curl upwards, each of the thin fingers on the end of it's hand curling as laughter began to produce from the thing's form. As the deep voice of the fabricated being rang throughout the court, the corpses lay, blood still seeping from them, slowly soaking the floor under them and pooling now, as their clothes could contain no more of the crimson liquid.

The thing smiled (if it could be called that), the mask having cracked along where the thing's lips would be if it were a humanoid figure. The mask continued to crack, though. It showed no signs of stopping either, as the mask began to shatter away, revealing a gruesome sight to behold. The features of a corpse lay beneath the mask, rotten flesh hanging by bits of torn flesh, gripping to what was left of a shattered skull. Blood was nowhere to be found on the rotten and sour flesh of this face, as it had all already seeped from the being's form. The form that the thing resembled that of a corpse that had suffered from the disease that the being itself controlled and was. There was a single eye in the two sockets that lay within the skull of the form that the thing controlled, the iris a deep, pitch black matching the pupil, leaving no way to identify the pupil from the iris.

The laugh continued to ring out from the thing that stood in the room, looking over the destruction it had caused in the mass of only 30 minutes. The thing's laughter roared outwards and continued to roar, growing further and further in distance as it continued, never stopping or halting. Always, the laughter continued.

[Demitri]

FROOK. Nuff said.# bugblatterbeastortraal

[Walking Zombee]

This text is from Sir Walter E Reyes' Notebook. It was covered in blood at the time, for some unknown reason, parts of the description had to be cut.

The wind of the night blew dead leaves through the rocky streets of the ghost town. Nay, it only seemed like a ghost town. Get a close enough look, and you can see the panicked faces of citizens staring out the window at the creature stumbling through the streets.

You can never really get a look of it. You look at it for a second, blink, it's gone, only thing visible was the trails of blood that harden almost instantly behind it.

The sounds of the two different feet hititng the ground was more than enough to disorient anyone. Click, shuff, click, shuff was heard as one foot left behind three toes and talons, like a bird, the other leaving behind a paw print, like a dog.

It has red eyes with black, pulsing pupils that seem to look at everything, and nothing at the same time. They were big, yet one was noticably smaller than the other. It blinked, of course, but it blinked veritcally. Scarred, sideways eyelids slowly closed on the uneven circles called 'eyes'.

All the townspeople quickly ducked to not catch the monster's eye. All but two.

It's head, much like a ragdoll's, had stitches and lines across parts of it. It was much like a rounded-edged cube, except there was a huge circular chunk missing off the top right corner, as if something had taken a bite out of it, yet its eyes protruded past the 'bite', so from behind, you would be able to see part of the red eye still.

A very curious child, named Tommy, the age of 8, got a quick glimpse of the being before his mother pulled his head down, and told him off.

The ears weren't ears at all, they were just gaping holes on the side of its, head, and if you look close enough, you would see green ooze leaking out of it. You would be tempted to touch it, but if you did, you would soon feel the ectoplasmic acid eating away at your skin, turning it to mere bone. If you did manage to get close enough and stare into the sockets, you would see that it was more of a funnel shape, spinning. Yes. SPINNING. Giving off a high pitched swooshing sound.

A writer, hired to describe the monster as best as he could for a local newspaper, quickly glanced at the monster and jotted down shorthand in his notebook.

Its arms were completly different, it had 3. One on the left side of its body, two on the right, one below the other. The top right arm was severly bent, like a horizontal 'w', and could be extended way past the length of the body if stretched. It had 3 unclawed fingers, much like a humans.

The monster turned towards the window of the house the man was in, staring at the man with a look of maliciousness, but at the same time, a look of worry, a look a hopelessness. Its eyes said 'You're my first victim.' but at the same time, 'You're my first friend.'

The bottom right arm had a loop in it and full of holes, as if something once again had taken multiple bites out of it. It came to one point, a pure white claw, much like an incisor fang, contrast to the black and grey arm that it had.

The man, feeling sad, put down the notebook and slowly walked to the monster. He closed his eyes, tilted his head and held out his hand for a handshake.

The third arm, wasn't really arm, it was straight, like any humans arm, but...it didn't have a hand, or fingers. It turned into a foot. A very dirty foot, mold covering almost half of it.

Closing his eyes was his first mistake.

The body wasn't straight, it had no spine, you see, it could bend at any angle towards it's target, and even stretch itself by detaching part of itself by pulling on the stitchs, revealing the organs inside of its bloody, body part infested stomach, hands of its victims visible, frozen in a state of grabbing something it could not find...Life.

The man, with a loud yelp, held his hand--or what was left of it-- to his face. The townspeople were left to only cringe at the sounds and imagine what could be happening.

The legs...the legs .The two of them allowing them to tower almost a full foot above the tallest human alive. The top of each looking like normal human legs, but they will soon change...

A slight swoosh sound was heard, as if something was swiping through the air.

The right leg turned into a canine-esque legs, with a wing protruding out the back of it, starting at the the thigh, ending at the ankle. Able to flap, unable to fly.

The man's headless body dropped to its knees.

The left leg turned into a bird like leg, rings around the foreleg, and talons at the bottom of the black foot. On the ankle, it had a tongue, a canine tongue, dragging on the ground, leaving a shiny trail of saliva.

Another swoosh, another swipe.

Now, onto the last thing you will see of it before death. It brings it one-claw hand to its mouth, vicious ripping holes into the horizontal stitch across it face. It does it best to fully open its mouth. the width between each stitch shortening, and snapping, as they grew longer in height.

The man's body completely fell to the ground. Or, half of it did. His legs and lower half of his stomach were left in a pool of blood, his inner organs left to lie on the ground.

It jerks its mouth to the sky, letting out an ear piercing, literally ear piercing screech. If you are in even a mile radius of it your eardrums will pop, blood leaking out of your ears as you drop. This being moves at incredible speed, with the ability to devour 2 to 3 people at once across multiple parts of the world.

The monster had finished its target, and now onto the next target, the last one to look at it.

It detaches its draw as it prepares to behead you with one single bite, its dripping, green liquid detoeriorating the skin to make the last bite easier.

Its tongue, completely black, despite the pools of the ectoplasm forming in the bottom reaches of its almost never ending mouth. The teeth circle around its mouth like a chainsaw, 4, even 5 sets of teeth chopping the neck clean off.

It swallows the head whole, and then the rest of its prey, taking months, even years, before it fully digests, absorbing traits of the prey, adding it onto the being itself, another leg, arm, even head.

The monster turned towards the house of Tommy.

Long after the monster had left, the townspeople came.
They saw a message scribbled in blood, starting from his long intestine.



Excerpt from the notebook.------

The townspeople and I have fired a few shots at it from a distance.
It couldn't locate where we were, but felt no damage.
The bullets were absored into its..'skin'. As if made of clay.
This is very starnge, more reasearch has to be made.
It has been lumbering around after that.
Maybe the shots did something.
Its moves are very static..as if it's broken.
More research has to be made on this.

[prophet]

<You don't know what it is, do you?>

Of course I don't know what it is! I never began to understand what it was and I never claimed that I had even a minimal understanding of what it was!

<Describe it for me.>

Don't make me talk about it, please.. I don't want to..

<Do it or I'll kill the rest of them.>

Please don't do that.. you wouldn't.. you wouldn't do that..

<I'd do it with the biggest smile.>

Please.. okay.. I'll tell you.. just don't hurt them.

<Every second that goes by, another person gets their fingers grind into nubs.>

Okay! OKAY! It.. it wasn't human, man! It tried to act like a human, but it wasn't a human.. it told me to avoid rhetorical discourse!

<You're not following directions. There goes Sarah. If you listen carefully, you can hear her scream.>

Stop!

<Speak quicker. It will make her death faster. Less painful.>

Its eyes weren't there.. but they were there.. I can't.. there were mounds of blood! It was like it was like two small hills of jello, covered in some disgusting.. cream.. I.. I can hear her, stop it! Stop hurting her! Kill me instead, please!

<All in due time. Your words have caused another one of your friends to die. I wonder what sound will come out of her when her fingers break.>

Oh god..! Oh.. uh.. its skin.. it was like.. glass shards inside of flesh.. but.. the glass shards were the flesh, and the flesh were the glass shards... it started babbling.. its veins were outside of its head.. it had different organs sown to its body.. I can't.. please stop make me remember.. I can hear it babbling!

<I'm going to play the sounds from the stereo into the interview room. Is that okay?>

No! No it's not okay, don't do it, I'll kill myself!

<Enjoy your music.>

No.. please.. no.... I DON'T.. MAKE IT STOP.. I CAN HEAR THE NUMBERS.. 6.. 5.. 4.. 7.. 8.. 98.. 12.. Ah.. AHH... Pop

<His head exploded, master.>

>I know, Dimension. I'm aware.<

[Foopzheart]

It thrives anywhere, and everywhere.

The dark, the ocean, the deepest recesses of the most expansive places.

Everybody knows it. Its name alone strikes something terrible and cold into the heart.

You cannot see it. It cannot see you. However, you know each other quite well.

It takes many forms. Giant spiders with razor-sharp fangs, millions of poisonous snakes, or even the ones you love.

It can seem to be the worst, most terrifying thing in the universe, or seem completely nonsensical.

It can bring you extreme terror. Or anxiety, or anger, and maybe in the future a few laughs.

It is invisible. Intangible. And it will never be completely gone. When it is present, it is constant. Nagging. Hard to shake off.

Sometimes it can be irrational, sometimes it can make complete sense.

It really could be the Alpha, the Omega, the beginning, and the end.

It has claws and fangs and a mind to use them, and it feeds off of your worst experiences.

It is the worst thing, and yet you live with it everyday, and it can even help you.

The most fearful monster I can think of is fear itself.

[Leprechaun Lukia]

Oh God, this creature was ugly. You couldn't even classify it as creature; it had a long, dark cloak covering it's short, four foot body; it's legs were non-existent, a mere floating corpse of disgusting proportion; the hood of the cloak removed would reveal a blue skin, and it's eyes were just holes, dried blood staining it's face like tears. It had no lips, and it's "mouth" was fixed into a small or rotting, brown, sharp teeth, even some missing. It's hand were regular, apart from the fact that it's nails were razor sharp, ready to cut throats in seconds, they also seemed stained, rusted like a blade


What this creature did was... indescribable. From what I saw, it's claws would slice the victim's throat and look into their eyes as they stared back, grasping their throats as death knocked on their door. After the victim finished squirming and all life leaked from their corpse, the monster got on the ground, as if doing an awkward push-up and opened it's mouth wide and swallowed the victim's head whole, not even stopping to chew as the prey moved straight down to this creature's stomach.


Some people claim they've seen this creature run along rooftops, most others claim that it was a mere optical illusion and they need psychological help, but unless it's been documented, no one's sighted it.


"Thanks, doc, for listening, I really appreciate it..." I said, as I trudged back to my asylum cell.

[nyanftw]

It thrives anywhere, and everywhere.

The dark, the ocean, the deepest recesses of the most expansive places.

Everybody knows it. Its name alone strikes something terrible and cold into the heart.

You cannot see it. It cannot see you. However, you know each other quite well.

It takes many forms. Giant spiders with razor-sharp fangs, millions of poisonous snakes, or even the ones you love.

It can seem to be the worst, most terrifying thing in the universe, or seem completely nonsensical.

It can bring you extreme terror. Or anxiety, or anger, and maybe in the future a few laughs.

It is invisible. Intangible. And it will never be completely gone. When it is present, it is constant. Nagging. Hard to shake off.

Sometimes it can be irrational, sometimes it can make complete sense.

It really could be the Alpha, the Omega, the beginning, and the end.

It has claws and fangs and a mind to use them, and it feeds off of your worst experiences.

It is the worst thing, and yet you live with it everyday, and it can even help you.

The most fearful monster I can think of is fear itself.

foop this is why you lose