zabzamok (zabzamok) wrote,

Субботние монстры: Кит Томпсон

Кейт (Кит) Томпсон (Keith Thompson) – художник с необычайно богатым воображением. Его картины открывают нам фантастические и даже сюрреалистические миры по силе воздействия и образности близкие Иерониму Босху. Но мало того, помимо самой художественной работы он наделяет каждый из своих персонажей собственной историей, что позволяет героям художника перешагнуть из мира его фантазий в наш мир совсем живыми существами. Эти истории сопровождают каждую из работ на сайте Кейта.

Иллюстрация выше называется "Чудовище из Припяти". После взрыва на Чернобыльской АЭС все умершие люди и животные были свалены в общие могилы. Оставшиеся мутирующие животные начали разрывать эти захоронения и питаться тем что осталось, встраивая данный белок к себе в метаболизм.


High priest and prime demagogue of a people displaced and driven into inhospitable salt plains. Disease and famine poised to kill the tribes to a man when their high priest declared that he would go alone into the salt flats, commune with the heavens, and return with the answer to their salvation. Days later, when his desiccated form reappeared on the horizon he announced the discovery of a divine solution to their plight. He appealed to the medicine men to conduct a drastic form of trepanation on him. A large hole was cut into the top of his skull as his third eye with which he would commune with the heavens. After a day and night of mantras a holy pillar of light descended from the sky into the priest’s pate and burst forth from his face, removing much of it in the process. This beam of light acted as a guide to lead his people to a land of plenty. Once safe and settled, the priest announced that he was leaving, much to the lamentation of the saved tribes. It was blasphemy for him to dwell amongst them any further, he explained, for he had died on the first night he ventured forth into the flats to find his answer.


Madame Theodosia hearkens from the Aeolian islands and is part of a long lineage of necromancers. Growing up in a family with a long tradition of raising the dead, she was uncharacteristically shaken to learn of her barrenness, and in a rather emotional state vowed to give birth, if not to a new life, then to an already passed life. For this purpose she had found assistance in fashioning a steel, pressurised womb in which the souls of the freshly dead were to be trapped and condensed. This gestating entity came to be referred to in hushed tones as The Collect. The expectant mother now unnerves her followers with a detached resignation towards her eventual agonizing death; a necessity to feed her newborn babe in a self-sacrificial fashion akin to a mother spider.



An entire division dropped out of communication with Le Premier Consul in the eastern campaign when they hacked forth into uncharted marshlands. Written off as lost to desertion, or more likely victims of the harsh elements, it was with great surprise that their madly twisted forms returned only to attack and consume their fellow countrymen. Shambling and mutilated, these corpses harbour a crop of fungus that animates their stiff forms. Acting as though consumed with a ravenous hunger for dead or living meat, these beings are only driven by a neurologically enforced desire to transmit their carried fungus to new hosts via saliva or blood.



Men who have committed such unimaginable atrocities in life that Hell has purposefully barred their entry in death to ensure that they continue their work on earth. Stiffened and deformed by the enveloping scar tissue from constant injury, and devoid of any trace of rationality due to pain, these immortal creatures can only be imprisoned, contained, and hopefully forgotten. This one has just escaped. Number 02 was executed by immurement.
Produced for Novaris Entertainment.

Number 03 was executed by hanging.



Unable to fully reach true devotion, and resultantly undeserving of entry to the Kingdom, the Brotherhood of the Holy Scourge divined a method of self abuse that would cleanse them of sin, but send them into a state of half death. Wandering the land and collecting alms, the undying monks seek worthiness through their self debasement. They deceive themselves with notions of piety, but secretly derive pleasure through their pain. This sin of pleasure negates their purpose, and their path has cost them their mortality, binding them to the earth, and robbing them of any chance to die and ascend.


While not undead themselves, these corpseherds bear down on the aftermath of battle fields, reanimating the strewn dead and consuming the irreparable. These beings loom up eight feet, headless with unreadable faces set in their chests, mumbling to each other as they collect their cattle and return to the hills.

"And portance in my travels' history;
Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven,
It was my hint to speak- such was the process-
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders."



When a talented skald of the Swedish courts, renowned across Scandinavia for his unparalleled musical prowess, revealed himself as a disguised woman, she was swiftly executed, and the embarrassing events were stricken from polite conversation. Her sudden return to court functions shook even the staunchest war veterans, but not enough to stay a second wary, though swift, summary execution. Upon further returns, each revealing the scald to be strangely repaired in a manner befitting tailor more than physician, the court began to almost embrace the eerie presence. This cycle of returns and executions leading to a more and more transfigured court poet became something of an exalted tradition.


The twisted children of Lilith and Adam, these creatures are almost as old as the earth itself. Able to don complete facades, it is said that even the busiest settlements are riddled with their presence. They tend to only be discovered when they carelessly let their personage last, unaging, for unnatural stretches of time. The presence of a lili seems to sow distrust and confusion among people. It is not unknown for ships to be found becalmed at sea, the crew dead by their own hands and a single woman alive on board, strangely
unshaken by the ordeal.


When the secondary explosion occurred at the reactor, spewing an almost immeasurable torrent of radioactivity into the jet stream, surrounding locales could only survive long enough to form mass graves for their dead. The under supplied, unprotected and ultimately doomed clean up crews sent their overseeing emergency committee a flurry of distress signals and sporadic reports of beasts emerging from the piles of bodies on the outskirts of towns. These beasts were said to vary dramatically, and appeared to be sickening amalgamations of people and livestock.


While the pillis hail the coming of the deity Quetzelcoatl in the form of the white bearded man who calls himself Cortés, others in the higher echelons of the Aztec Empire believe the visitation to be that of mere men from foreign lands. Cadres of elite panther warriors are sent out into the wild to hunt the pale imposters. Driven by apocalyptic visions, these warriors degenerate into frenzied murderers, eating the flesh of their victims to gain their strength, forgoing the confines of humanity. Depraved and twisted with flesh stoked potency, the wendigos decimate the conquistadors in a bloody harvest.


When experiments testing the viability of tapping into the quantum vacuum for energy were performed on the Apollo 21 Lab Station, reports devolved into strange ramblings about how their conclusions were inconceivable to human minds. Before all communication ceased, garbled messages were sent to earth from the astronauts about their experiments revealing to them the "howling face of the sun." A rescue crew was violently repulsed from the station by corpses in the astronaut's space suits. Footage of the incident show ghostly images of tormented figures hanging just behind these corpses, struggling, but seemingly unable to pull themselves apart from their decaying bodies.

As crops fail and famine wracks the land, those who turn to the last resort of cannibalism contract kuru, a transmissible spongiform encephalopathy, and their brains become pitted like sponge. As they degenerate the ghouls form into familial packs which whoop and laugh uncontrollably as they pull down the healthy in mob attacks. However they only feast on the bodies after weeks of decomposition, as the notion of consuming fresh meat disgusts them. The ghouls numbers are disproportionately comprised of pregnant or child rearing mothers. They are particularly resistant to the pull of despair and suicide, if only to care for their single child; the greatest number a desperate mother can afford to care for in such conditions.


Many commanders panic as the Allied forces press on to Berlin. Some disappear, others commit suicide, and most don blinders to the future, continuing their tasks regardless of the futility. A select few however begin to pull back from directionless rationalism and pore over the occult texts so commonly passed around among the officer classes. This infusion of unwholesome study coupled with the inventiveness of a strained weapons industry has seen soldiers unable, or unwilling to continue defense of the Fatherland return to the front cinched into obscene contraptions. These mutilated puppets are often left behind during controlled retreats, erupting from piles of corpses amidst the oncoming Allied troops working their way through the wreckage.


Atrocity matches atrocity as the crusades grind onwards, and most hope to only suffer the moaning ghosts of the massacred heard during moonless nights. A sudden increase in caravans and pilgrims found slaughtered has led to the clergy admitting their knowledge of a raiding force of ghasts haunting the crusader's supply line. It is later unearthed that the warrior monks tasked with confronting the threat have been intentionally lax, benefiting from the drop in pilgrims living to reclaim the money the Knights Templar hold in safe keeping for them during their travels.


Formed in a steel womb fitted to a female necromancer, the Collect is composed of souls captured at death and contained under high pressure with liquid aglaophotis. These souls were condensed into each other until enough life force was coalesced for the birth of a unified entity. The Collect now hangs in the upper stratosphere, a collection of uncountable eyes overseeing the earth and influencing world events. As humanity is led towards war and strife, the souls of the dead rise in large clouds which the Collect drifts through, absorbing more and more souls into its fold and growing ever stronger for it.


Towering hulks of reshaped and animated flesh are a common sight in the Northern Steppes. Once terrifying siege engines employed in the Horizon Upheavals, a prolonged spate of peace has seen them decommissioned and adapted to cultural rituals. This specific necrotic collossus is actually functioning as a nomadic funeral temple. A site of excarnation that can follow tribes in their caravans, the collossus, once directed by a whip cracking beast master, is now only directed by two weary oxen.


As an object is used over time it begins to take on a personality of sorts, and once one hundred years pass this personality has had time to physically manifest in the object, a twisted, half-formed soul either viciously mad or functioning with motivations incomprehensible to man. Perverting everything they can gain influence over, they are invariably hostile to people, killing them and staking their own claim to seemingly random spots in the wilderness or along roadways. Once settled in their now blighted locales they dwell and wait for something that never arrives.

Какой монстр самый страшный, а какой самый необыкновенный?

UP. Картинки перизалиты.

Tags: иллюстрации, искусство, субботние монстры
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