Creepy video game fan art Part 2: The Bloodening

The Internet is a dark and scary place, filled with terrors both familiar and unimaginable. I know this, for I have stared into the fan art abyss... and the abyss stared back.

In the following slideshow, we shall see that at which dogs howl in the dark, and that at which cats prick up their ears after midnight...

[Note: to protect the not-so-innocent, we have decided not to source the following images. If you want your artwork removed or – God forbid – would like to be credited, send us an email and we’ll make the necessary changes.] [[artnid:349747|Further reading: In pictures: The creepiest video game fan art of all time]]
Life is a hideous thing, and from the background behind what we know of it peer daemoniacal hints of truth which make it sometimes a thousandfold more hideous.
We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.
Then the shadows began to gather; first little furtive ones under the table, and then bolder ones in the dark panelled corners.
We shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.
The terror is a horrible ray of light on what was stewing in men's crushed brains.
Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are no longer men, and the streets are white with unburied bones.
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.
Loathsomeness waits and dreams in the deep, and decay spreads over the tottering cities of men.
There came only a shuddering blankness and ineffable loneliness; and I saw at last a fearful truth which no one had ever dared to breathe before.
In the land of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death.
And inside that rusted iron strait-jacket lurked gibbering hideousness, perversion, and diabolism. Here, truly, was the apotheosis of the unnamable.
Alien it indeed was to all art and literature which sane and balanced readers know, but we recognized it as the thing hinted of in the forbidden Necronomicon of the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred...
The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.
We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.
Above these apparent hieroglyphics was a figure of evidently pictorial intent, though its impressionistic execution forbade a very clear idea of its nature.
I have harnessed the shadows that stride from world to world to sow death and madness...
They could not live. But although They no longer lived, They would never really die.
Calm, lasting beauty comes only in dream, and this solace the world had thrown away when in its worship of the real it threw away the secrets of childhood and innocence.
There are horrors beyond horrors, and this was one of those nuclei of all dreamable hideousness which the cosmos saves to blast an accursed and unhappy few.
The wind gibbers with Their voices, and the earth mutters with Their consciousness.
I felt, in brief agonies of disillusionment, the gigantic blackness of this overwhelming universe, in which my days and the days of my race were as nothing to the shattered stars; a universe in which each action is vain and even the emotion of grief a wasted thing.
Never was a sane man more dangerously close to the arcana of basic entity -- never was an organic brain nearer to utter annihilation in the chaos that transcends form and force and symmetry.
Out of the unimaginable blackness beyond the gangrenous glare of that cold flame, there flopped rhythmically a horde of things that no sound eye could ever wholly grasp, or sound brain ever wholly remember.
If that abyss and what it held were real, there is no hope. Then, all too truly, there lies upon this world of man a mocking and incredible shadow out of time.
The daemon rats that race behind the padding in this room and beckon me down to greater horrors than I have ever known; the rats they can never hear; the rats, the rats in the walls.
In the land of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death.
The most merciful thing in the world, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents.
I could not help feeling that they were evil things -- mountains of madness whose farther slopes looked out over some accursed ultimate abyss.
Memory sometimes makes merciful deletions.
Truly, there are terrible primal arcana of earth which had better be left unknown and unevoked; dread secrets which have nothing to do with man, and which man may learn only in exchange for peace and sanity; cryptic truths which make the knower evermore an alien among his kind, and cause him to walk alone on earth.
I now felt gnawing at my vitals that dark terror which will never leave me till I, too, am at rest.
When the last days were upon me, and the ugly trifles of existence began to drive me to madness like the small drops of water that torturers let fall ceaselessly upon one spot of their victims body, I loved the irradiate refuge of sleep.
Ultimate horror often paralyses memory in a merciful way.
I have brought to light a monstrous abnormality, but I did it for the sake of knowledge. Now for the sake of all life and Nature you must help me thrust it back into the dark again.
Madness, of course -- but had I not now stumbled into a nighted world as mad as I?
And in the Cyclopean modern towers and pinnacles that rise blackly Babylonian under waning moons, I found only a sense of horror and oppression which threatened to master, paralyse, and annihilate me.
The one test of the really weird is simply this -- whether or not there be excited in the reader a profound sense of dread, and of contact with unknown spheres and powers; a subtle attitude of awed listening, as if for the beating of black wings or the scratching of outside shapes and entities on the known universe's utmost rim.
If the thing were there -- and if I were not dreaming -- the implications would be quite beyond the power of the human spirit to bear.
No sane wholesome colours were anywhere to be seen except in the green grass and leafage
Things seen by the inward sight, like those flashing visions which comes as we drift into the blankness of sleep, are more vivid and meaningful to us in that form than when we have sought to weld them with reality.
There is really nothing in the universe to live for.
There are twists of time and space, of vision and reality, which only a dreamer can divine. Whether or not we will ever come back, I cannot say.
Minds sensitive to hereditary impulse will always tremble at the thought of the hidden and fathomless worlds of strange life which may pulsate in the gulfs beyond the stars, or press hideously upon our own globe in unholy dimensions which only the dead and the moonstruck can glimpse.
Life is a hideous thing, and from the background behind what we know of it peer daemoniacal hints of truth which make it sometimes a thousandfold more hideous.
There are dread survivals of things older and more potent than man; things that have blasphemously straggled down through the aeons to ages never meant for them; monstrous entities that have lain sleeping endlessly in incredible crypts and remote caverns, outside the laws of reason and causation, and ready to be waked by such blasphemers as shall know their dark forbidden signs and furtive passwords.
Of this I must say little, since detailed speech would but confirm those cruel slanders upon my intellect.
I have harnessed the shadows that stride from world to world to sow death and madness...
In the land of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death.
Life is a hideous thing, and from the background behind what we know of it peer daemoniacal hints of truth which make it sometimes a thousandfold more hideous.
Life is a hideous thing, and from the background behind what we know of it peer daemoniacal hints of truth which make it sometimes a thousandfold more hideous.
In the land of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death.
Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are no longer men, and the streets are white with unburied bones.
Life is a hideous thing, and from the background behind what we know of it peer daemoniacal hints of truth which make it sometimes a thousandfold more hideous.
I have harnessed the shadows that stride from world to world to sow death and madness...
Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are no longer men, and the streets are white with unburied bones.
Life is a hideous thing, and from the background behind what we know of it peer daemoniacal hints of truth which make it sometimes a thousandfold more hideous.
Loathsomeness waits and dreams in the deep, and decay spreads over the tottering cities of men.
I have harnessed the shadows that stride from world to world to sow death and madness...
In the land of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death.
As a foulness shall ye know Them. Their hand is at your throats, yet ye see Them not; and Their habitation is even one with your guarded threshold.
Life is a hideous thing, and from the background behind what we know of it peer daemoniacal hints of truth which make it sometimes a thousandfold more hideous.
I have harnessed the shadows that stride from world to world to sow death and madness...
Life is a hideous thing, and from the background behind what we know of it peer daemoniacal hints of truth which make it sometimes a thousandfold more hideous.
I have harnessed the shadows that stride from world to world to sow death and madness...
I have harnessed the shadows that stride from world to world to sow death and madness...
Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are no longer men, and the streets are white with unburied bones.
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.
We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.
I have harnessed the shadows that stride from world to world to sow death and madness...
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.
Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are no longer men, and the streets are white with unburied bones.
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.
Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are no longer men, and the streets are white with unburied bones.
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.
That's hot.
And when the smoke cleared away, and I sought to look upon the earth, I beheld against the background of cold, humorous stars only the dying sun and the pale mournful planets searching for their sister.

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