In the dark mist of the macabre, where crimson oozed through cold cobblestone brick, and screams whimper along the Gothic brick walls, the night stalks in horrors. As shadows claw at the wall, with cryptic words creaking at the back of our minds as we scurry home when we are hugged by darkness. Few men could bear witness to these terrors. Even fewer would dare to stand against the savagery of these brutes.
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The prince of darkness and the son of the dragon, Count Dracula is the former Romanian ruler of Wallachia. A former man driven to cruelty by his enemies, his savagery was intensified when he became a vampire. Within the shadows of his Transylvanian castle, the former Vlad Tepes is now the king of the vampires. Stalking the night, the count is the chill of the mist. The black bat of the horde, coldest wolf of the wood, the icy wind down the back of thy neck.
The architect of the mad abyss, the great slumber of Cthulhu distances himself over thinly from the sheet of normality that we call our lives. Lingering in the background of our being, the great old priest of chaos hums into the fathom of sanity with his presence, tearing so effortlessly at our understanding, until nothing but vast emptiness clinched at our hearts and ate at our minds.
In the fog of the city streets, when the night is most silent, the knock of street stone brings his presence. Coated in mystery and shadowed by legend, the city streets run with his sick imagination. With the shine of his blade outlasting the glow of the moon, his strike chops at the strings of safety that our contained civilization.
King of the monsters, titan upon the Earth, Godzilla is a disastrous being of vengeance upon man's consciousness. Towering above God's creation and casting his shadow over all of man's achievements, he feeds on our greatest weapon. With a breath of nuclear energy, he burns the world that stands against him. Earthquakes, tsunamis, and floods follow in his steps, and...
When a man buries his urges, he often buries himself with it. Rotting within, Doctor Henry Jekyll sped up his process when he created a serum that ultimately unleashed his darker half - Mister Edward Hyde. As his mind fell into a dark slumber, his wickedness roamed the night, making chaos and sinister air across the vast streets of England.
In the furthest reaches of one's mind, when all is of comfort, he rests in the unease. The shadows of the peripheral. The squeaks of the floorboards and branch that scratches the window at night. A feeling that always looms over you. The imagination in the dark hallway, the Slender Man forever watches.
