Genur.art

In the depths of a forgotten catacomb, this monstrosity shambles forward. Flesh hangs loosely from its frame, like wet parchment on twisted, bone-thin limbs. Its eyes are sunken pits, glowing faintly with a pale, sickly green light. A smell of decay and sulfur permeates the air as it moves, trailing a mass of slithering, pulsating tendrils that seem to feed on the rot around them. Its mouth, a gaping wound filled with crooked teeth, stretches open wider than humanly possible