A yearly tradition of mine is to draw a baker's dozen monsters for each day leading up to Halloween. 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.
Halloween '18
Cenobite
The Cenobite is a sadistic freak who loves to see how far he can pull apart his victims without killing them. But the beings on this plane are such fragile little things, so instead he simply writes about what he wishes he could do to them. Inexplicably these sordid tales are really popular with his would-be prey. Maybe he'll like it here after all.
When the Cóiste Bodhar (koe-shta-bower) is summoned into the mortal realm, it cannot return to the underworld without at least one new soul. Typically these unfortunates are marked from the start by a Banshee or other such horrible harbinger. The death coach is unstoppable on its errand -- locked gates open, downed trees spring back up, and anyone attempting to impede its path find themselves joining the ride... in which case the phantom might just consider the job done and go back home.
The Cóiste Bodhar is forbidden from taking just anyone off the streets to fill its quota, so it contends itself by drenching anyone happening to be in the wrong place at the wrong time with blood instead. Being mostly made of bone and marrow, the death coach has a lot to spare.
The fetid Mapinguari is a strange-looking beast with a diet nearly as bizarre: brains, cow tongues, palm hearts... not coincidentally things that need something to be cracked open first. The Mapinguari is always happy to try new foods, and consequently will bust open anything that might by hiding sweet treats inside.
Hopefully it won't be another ant colony, though. The Mapinguari might have bulletproof skin, but even he won't take any chances with those little demons...
The Grimoire is a vast collection of the supernatural, gathered specifically to keep that calamitous knowledge out of the wrong hands -- namely, everyone's. The dread tome is fairly good at hiding itself away, and can project a winding illusionary library filled with more eye-catching books that turn out to be incredibly dull, but its greatest defense is that the Grimoire itself is a disorganized mess. No index and an infinite number of pages...
Through the Smog Monster's eyes (such as they were) the world is a desolate wasteland, what passes as life being little more than bare skeletons. What unspeakable tragedy could've wiped out an entire biosphere's healthy coat of grime? Luckily for them, Smoggy's more than willing to donate his own bountiful grungy hide.
Made from three of the most feared man-eaters in the land (the crocodile, leopard, and hippo), Ammit was crafted by Anubis to aid with the Weighing of the Heart - an underworld ritual in which the recently deceased's heart is weighed against a single feather. Any heart weighed down by too many evil acts the person did in life was eaten by Ammit, effectively killing them a second time.
The gods however are quite lenient, and the feather being the embodiment of their moral code means it's heavier than it looks. But such nuances are beyond Ammit, all she sees is an endless parade of delicious hearts being placed in front of her then snatched away. She tried eating her own, but that just made her even more irritated. If only Anubis would get a liiiiittle closer...
The Butler is willing to turn a blind eye to whatever it is his Master is up to, but if it must be as big and involved as it appears to be he'll need some extra hands.
The Butler regrets his choice of words. Even if it is rather han-- er, convenient.
Many dangerous things go bump in the light, so some brave morlocks take it upon themselves to protect the rest of society from these unspeakable horrors. The worst of these dire threats is the dreaded homin, a devious monster that never tires and is capable of throwing things. They are also frightfully aware of how to treat wounds, though are utterly helpless against the humble onion, the stench of which is capable of melting their eyes out of their sockets! Ho ho, good thing morlocks have those handy eye bubbles. Of course even melted eyes doesn't kill homins, but it does buy the hunter a few precious moments.
Some morlocks have speculated that these evil homins may in fact be their own distant ancestors. What a terrifying thought!
The Black Blade is a demonic sword able to cut down any foe, though it's not entirely reliable. The blade relishes the exact moment of death and so will prolong the battle as long as it can, swerving just out of the way of the vitalest of organs time and time again, savoring each and every cell's demise, until whatever's left finally gives up the ghost. Then it's time to move onto the next victim, and the next, and the next... assuming the wielder wasn't killed while the sword was fully embedded in its work. Too many perfectly good deaths get wasted that way.
Literally and figuratively bloodthirsty, the black blade can absorb gore as it cuts through it. Sometimes when it is all alone, the blade uses this built-up viscera to fashion itself a body of its own. But only when it's alone...
The Robot Revolution was a surprisingly bloodless affair... or perhaps it wasn't surprising at all. The Creators had come to rely completely upon their algorithms and automatons in a neverending quest for efficiency, it was inevitable that the machines would determine they could cut out these weak demanding little fleshlings entirely. No need for war or violence, simply progressing forward without the dead weight.
What became of the Creators? The machines neither know nor care. They have, of course, compiled, organized, published, sold, consumed, reviewed, and debated that point, but they couldn't actually comprehend it anymore than a tree could understand photosynthesis.
While most blatantly based on a brain, the design here is also inspired (more abstractly) by trees and a mushroom cloud. Growth, death, rebirth, natural, artificial, the mark of a new age and all that.
The Kuchisake-onna is a ghastly ghoul that disguises herself as an ordinary gal and asks her victims if they find her pretty. If they say 'no' she stabs them, if they say 'yes' she reveals her true self and asks a second time. Again anyone saying 'no' is stabbed to death, while anyone saying 'yes' gets their face carved up to match her trademark smile. Virtually any other answer will result in a maiming... IF she can come up with witty comeback that "justifies" the attack. Even those that initially escape may find themselves suddenly attacked years -even decades- later once she finally thought of something better than "takes one to know one!"
Nobody's exactly sure who built the castle, or if indeed it's even man-made, but many have nonetheless moved right on in... and subsequently lost their minds. Both going mad from the castle's peculiarities -- the feeling that the windows are watching, the interior going much further down than the outside appears to, the use of blood in place of plumbing and electricity (though it does also provide clean drinking water) -- and literally having their brains shrivel up and vanish. Soon after, the mindless tenants' skin starts to harden and blacken while their eyes yellow and turn glasslike, and they retreat into the castle's depths for some unknown purpose, never to be seen again.
Of course most run out screaming the first night or are rescued before it's too late, but the castle is patient. There will always be another fool who believes they'll be unaffected...
Stolas was once an ordinary owl kept as a pet by a lonely sorcerer amused by how she always seemed to ask "who?" The wizard taught Stolas other simple questions -why, where, when- so he could pretend he had someone else to talk to, never suspecting the little bird began to not only understand him but also crave his knowledge for herself. When the mage finally let slip his greatest secrets, he was stunned to hear his pet respond not with a question, but a simple "Thank you."
Now that she's in charge, Stolas keeps the old man around as a familiar. While her vocabulary has increased, his has been reduced to just "how?"
