Under the wheeling seabirds, in basaltic depths, it waits. And smiles.
In a previous post, I put up a couple of manipulated images from an abandoned photo project of years ago. The project was simply creating new images by mirroring or otherwise duplicating existing images, with the intent of creating new, surreal landscapes that hinted at hidden stories. Creative Rorschach, if you will.
Some of them turned out sort of dark. These are a few of the b-sides that gave me a "wow, that's a little Lovecraftian" reaction.
In retrospect, we should have been less worried about it gaining freedom, and more worried about its appetite
In our defense, we dug neither greedily nor deep. That thought, however, did not extinguish our flames.
The new races of men had forgotten his transgressions.
Even the forces of sun and water would not hold him in the shadows forever
|The Space Between|
...and then she knew why only those Chosen by the village were to open the gate. And why their screams pierced the mountain.
As it dragged him through the sand, Jacob searched its quicksilver eyes for any hint of emotion, seeing only the cruel desert sky reflected back
Beauford R. Garrinoux had cried only two other times in his life, after his first fight and at the death of his father. As the glowing eyes arose from the bayou, his tears came unbidden.
|Down to the Sea|
The rocks should not move, she thought, the water should not rise in a boil. She had had but one infant to give the sea, what else could it want to anger it so?
|Phenomenal Cosmic Power|
....iiiiitty bitty corpses. All over the place.
As the mist coalesced into a demonic countenance, the strange little girls turned to them, faces blank and stark white against the wet, black rock, beckoning.
|View from inside Death Bot Mark III|
Frowning in his control chair, Professor Johanson was mildly disappointed that the reinforced glass of his creation's webbed and uncaring eyes muffled the squishing sounds from below.