The Lurking Terror in the Basket
As I descended into the dungeon labyrinth, a foul odor assaulted my senses, the stench of freshly rotting corpses mingled with the dank mold of eons, and a hint of vanilla. I whispered the chant the elders had taught me — tarath n’Ghol nabisco blayvin — and held aloft the Divine Eggplant of Protection.
And there, as foretold, was the ancient basket, wherein lay a horror so wretched that the elders could not speak its name without making a “hlgrrlph” sound. I had hoped to take it asleep, but was too late; the demonic eyes glowed from within. It had seen me.
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ★
┊ ┊ ☆
This is a custom order piece. Made with many many layers of paper creating a 3D moving puppet living within it’s own little environment.