He hangs midair like a ghost,
hovering amongst labyrinthine structures.
His secret, the unseen movement of a great wind.
He disturbs not the waters.
His deep understanding of that element allows it.
Here's a touched up portrait of H. P. Lovecraft I created to hang in my space. I wanted a portrait of the horror master to inspire me when I was working, but I didn't want something plain. I ran the standard image of him through several photoshop filters and voila, H.P. visits Silent Hill!
Here we have another zombie from the ongoing outbreak. This one seems pretty harmless, but beware the unguarded ankle! That's why you have to check everywhere and under everything when cleaning out spaces for Z. You never know where a half eaten corpse might be animating. All it takes is one bite.
Beneath my skin I drown,
The world has become incompatible,
toxic to my very essence.
I struggle against this precipice of change,
this pit of transformation.
I gulp for air
as my lungs fill with water.
Inside me, the sleeping thing gurgles
I don't want it,
I don't want to,
I do not want this.