Halloween '14

A yearly tradition of mine is to draw a baker's dozen monsters for each day leading up to Halloween (I did a couple extra here, though). It started off with just the classic spooks, but has since gone on to cover everything from mythological beasts to literary nightmares to unsung creepy things I think deserve more attention.


This Skeleton was a glutton in life, and must suffer an afterlife where he can neither taste anything nor ever feel full. Not for lack of trying of course; he's attempted all kinds of replacement tongues and stomachs, but to no avail.

... What's that? Use the ascot as a tongue? Don't be silly, you can't mix fashion taste with food taste!

Chainsaw Maniac

The Maniac is a little too fond of his chainsaw. Like a child given their first pair of scissors, he feels compelled to hack apart everything in sight and is desperate for any excuse to unleash blissful destruction. Predictably, he tends to gets carried away and may wreck things he really shouldn't have.

Incidentally, CM's going to need a ride; his truck seems to have stopped working...


Whereas zombies are "born" from the physical remains of the dead, ghosts are made up of their remnant mental energies, although they lack any consciousness or driving intelligence. Instead, these "idiot echoes" blindly repeat the quirks and mannerisms of their former lives, quite convincingly at first (leading many loved ones to foolishly hope the recently deceased isn't "completely dead"), but as time goes on they begin to slip. It may take centuries, it may take just hours, but eventually their speech slurs, they forget things, they even visually blur and fade away -- the face/head is typically the last to go, the features dissolving into a hazy orb before finally and completely disappearing. But weep not, they were dead to begin with.


The aliens are here, they've been here (well, the Moon to be precise) since before man crawled from the oceans, silently watching, waiting to enact their perfectly convoluted plans...

Now is NOT the time to unleash their fiendish plot, Earth is not "ripe" just yet, but the aliens grow restless. A quick trip to the surface should alleviate the boredom: harass some locals, swap some brains around, perhaps even shave a stray mutt and release it in one of the human leader's home just to see what happens. What could possibly go wrong?

Haunted Woods

In an effort to combat pests and parasites, this accursed tree developed a way to spawn an entire forest of sap-filled saps... by converting poor lost souls who lose their way. This hasn't actually helped with the pest problem, in fact it made things far worse -- now it has to deal with zombees, squirrelichs, and larvampires -- but at least others must share its misery.


Death cares not for souls -- it's her job, but what she's really ofter is fresh corpses to deposit her insatiable brood (they'd otherwise eat her). She'll remove the recently deceased's soul first, of course, souls are terrible for growing baby death-maggots, but she doesn't always remember to actually take them to the afterlife...

Her superiors really ought to correct her bad habits, but understandably nobody wants to get close to someone coated in ravenous larvae.

Death Jr.

One of Death's spawn. Perhaps it'll grow to replace her as the Grim Reaper in, oh, perhaps six hundred and sixty-six years...

Bride of Frankenstien

Frankenstein's monster crafted a companion on his own, as the good doctor was opposed to the idea (and is, well, dead). Unexpectedly, though, the bride became alive before she was properly finished, and the monster thinks it too weird to "fix" another sapient being's appearance. Not that she minds. In fact she loves her strange asymmetrical form, it's so much more interesting. And that external heart thingy is oddly mesmerizing.

The bride doesn't share her husband's aversion to modifying another's look, and has made it a hobby to "rearrange" random people. Those normal humans are just so boring, they'd much rather have both arms on one side, or swapped with their legs, or coming out of their mouths...

Frankenstein would be turning in his grave... had the monster not used parts of him for his mate.


For vigintillions of years dread Cthulhu lay in a death-dream within the twisted bowels of the corpse-city of R'lyeh, waiting for... well, certainly NOT a boat to plow through his skull, that's for sure.


The Gorgon has petrified so many would-be assassins she's made it an art form, literally. She takes pride in crafting her victims just right, and her statues are quite popular in the monster art community. Naturally, she can't personally attend her own exhibits or sales, but that just makes her seem more "mysterious" to her adoring fans.

Some scoff at her work, believing it takes no effort so can't be real art. They can expect a visit from the Gorgon herself... and to be stuck and displayed in a VERY inappropriate position.


'Mishmash' is an umbrella term for an infinite variety of monsters made, intentionally or unintentionally, from the leftovers of other, "better" creations. As a result, they are almost always overlooked; at best being considered a curiosity, at worst a disgusting waste product (even by monster standards). Still, some mishmash make the best of their spliced abilities and eek out a humble life; others instead spend their entire unloved lives blaming their uncaring creators; most, however, go insane from the multiple split personalities.

(Dedicated to all those wonderfully bizarre decorations, hybridized costumes, one-shot gags, lesser frankensteins, and all the other monsters that are, sadly, discarded just as quickly as they were created)


The blob is barely in control of its own form and is constantly dissolving, presumably because its natural habitat is wholly alien to our own. To prevent itself from becoming a puddle, the blob must keep a steady supply of flesh, viscera, and other organic material, and the human race has plenty of those to spare. It is able to fashion these into crude body parts of it's own... but they wear out rather quickly and must be continuously replaced. Perhaps the blob may be lucky enough to put it's collective heads together and figure a way back home...

Ghost Train

The spirit of a train that was intentionally wrecked in a spectacular collision for money (although the boiler explosion wasn't part of the plan). The ghost train isn't particularly sure how it even gained a soul in the first place, but it figures it might as well take the opportunity to have its revenge on the greedy pig that destroyed it.... which mostly entails rushing at open doors and vanishing once someone slams it shut and other relatively harmless pranks.


"Why isn't anyone giving me candy? I'm in a costume..."

Evil Doll

Possessed by some malevolent whatsit, this twisted toy appears perfectly normal to most people, only ever revealing his true self to his intended victim... and even then only if he really wants to be seen. Most of the time he's quite content staying in disguise and whispering terrible, awful, naughty things into his target's ears.

Under no circumstance should you EVER call him a "doll" or imply he's a girl's toy. He loathes-- *glances at title* Uh oh...