The Burgomeister woke up, sweating, breath hoarse in his throat, ragged, panting. For the second night in a row, some horror in the night had awoken him. His fat wife snored beside him. A cold, high, piping child's voice that had ripped through his dreams and threw him, wet and mewling into the cold night air.
"Flies, flies, eat up his eyes. The Burgomeister's eyes are flies!"
He tried to get his breath back under control. But then he heard it, outside in the night. Beyond the village.
The riffling of pasteboard, and a hoarse, barking voice.
Something was coming.
Two more of my Chaos Carnival denizens have been completed: the Tarot Witch and the Barker.
The Tarot Witch was an old Witch Elf; i removed her weapons, created cards out of plasticard and resculpted her with slightly less 80s Metal Hair.
The Barker is just slammed together from loads of bits and greenstuff:
Both were painted in the style I've adopted for this project.
Two more to come shortly...