Haunter of the Dark

Those who have beheld The Haunter of the Dark speak first of its eye: a single, luminous stare that pierces the mind rather than the flesh. To meet that gaze, even briefly, is to feel one’s thoughts unravel; to endure it is to invite collapse, as the will fails and the body soon follows.

Its form is a blasphemous union of the aerial and the abyssal. Great leathery wings unfurl from a body hung with crustacean limbs and chitinous protrusions, as though it had crawled from some lightless shore beyond the world created by the Lord. Yet no account agrees fully on its shape, for the Haunter does not remain long enough to be known. It appears and vanishes at will, emerging from darkness itself and retreating into it without sound or trace, leaving only the certainty that it has come, and it has seen.