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Literature
Memories of a Psychopath
In all his days after his ascension, thousands of years of service to the Emperor, and even long after, Kulstov had always hated the many suns he saw. In Nostramo, the sky was mercifully dark all year round. The people were used to it, and in the midnight streets of the great city, criminals seethed like a swarm of rats. The Night Haunter had struck back with godlike power and seemingly magical technology, but some had always slipped through the gaps. Among those degenerate few, Kulstov, a killer since the age of ten, had stalked the streets.
Kulstov didn’t know what had happened to him, but he knew that something was broken  from a very young age. When another child had stolen his favorite toy, he strangled her in a strangely impassive way, watching the girl’s face and lips turn blue in the cool night air.
Nostramo was filled to the bursting, both with criminals and their victims and the homeless unfortunates that littered the streets, and by the time he was a year ol
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Literature
Memories of a Hunter
The Imperial Cleric Vorien hung, trembling, from the ceiling of the chamber, as he watched the hulking figure make preparations and whisper vile prayers in the darkness. He knew that he was far from the Emperor’s light, and even now, in the freezing darkness of the Astartes’ chamber, he could not let his heart grow weak. He could not show fear.
The attack on the planet had come quickly and without warning, the enormous black battle-barge filling the sky with a crackling flash of warp-energy. They had descended in drop-pods, like a swarm of obsidian darts fired toward the planet. Hulking monsters, a cursed parody of the image of the holy Astartes had emerged, wearing spiked armor of pitch-black, decorated with lightning, and winged skulls. Vorien had heard stories of the traitor legions, and even though some of the regular Astartes had instilled fear into him with their strange beliefs and ways, he had always clung to the fact that they were the chosen of the Emperor. It had
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Mature content
Low-Hanging Fruit :iconevil-m:Evil-M 0 0
Literature
The Sacrament
The first thing that hit Father Lochland as he entered the confessional booth was the smell. It wasn’t that he was unused to bad smells, far from it. Working in the slums of Detroit had more than numbed him to scent of humanity, as it wafted through the stale, night air. St. Anthony’s Church stood alone, amid the crumbling buildings of the district, a single spire reaching up into the sky from the desolation of urban decay. At this hour of the night it attracted a wide variety of people, some faithful, some simply seeking shelter from the cold, and it turned none of them away. St. Anthony was well known as a patron of the lost, and it wasn’t something that father Lochland took lightly.
The smell was something different than the usual miasma of alcohol and sweat that surrounded the unfortunates that came to the place. It was different, sickeningly sweet, cloying and somehow sticky. For a split second, Father Lochland feared that he might catch something, then immediate
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Mature content
Wallspaces :iconevil-m:Evil-M 0 0
Literature
The Clockwork Choir
‘Do you think they have souls, Japetti? Do you think they enjoy being in such artificial shells?’ asked Augustus. The two men stood in the darkened cathedral that Augustus had purchased to use as his studio. The man was an artist, of that there was no doubt, but even after two years, Japetti had never gotten used to his client’s eccentricities. The place was devoid of artificial light,  lit only by candles that twinkled in the gloom like stars. The only other light source was the moon, which shone through the red-tinted windows, painting the contraption they stood before in an even more ghoulish light.
‘Don’t change the subject, Manya,’ Japetti said, trying to pick out the details of the device in the dense shadows. ‘This is excessive, even by your standards.  Exactly what do you hope to accomplish with this grotesque experiment?’
It was difficult to study Maestro Augustus Manya’s face, which was covered in a strange, expr
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Evil-M

Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Australia
Current Residence: Australia, some crack-den
Favourite genre of music: Industrial, Heavy Metal, Avant Garde Metal, EBM.
Favourite style of art: Surrealism, Minimalism, Cyberpunk
Operating System: Necromancy
MP3 player of choice: IPhone
Shell of choice: Shotgun
Wallpaper of choice: Skin. Lots of it.
Skin of choice: My wallpaper.
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:iconcandywolf949:
Candywolf949 Featured By Owner Mar 29, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Excuse me! You need to fill out a form in order to be added to the front page of our group. (Imaginative writing) Thank you!
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:icondarkmechanic:
DarkMechanic Featured By Owner Mar 6, 2017  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks for watching!
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:iconjudas-fez:
Judas-Fez Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2015
Thanks for the watch!
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:iconcelestialhost:
Celestialhost Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I'm glad you liked My Life with the Alien Sex Kult
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:iconevil-m:
Evil-M Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Genestealer cults are awesome. Always wished they'd referenced them a bit more, but I'm glad they still exist as a concept in-universe.
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:iconjakeekiss:
JakeEkiss Featured By Owner Aug 20, 2014
Thanks for the :+fav:
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:iconhoukai-amplifier:
Houkai-Amplifier Featured By Owner Feb 5, 2014  Hobbyist Artist
10/10 would watch again
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:iconeente:
eente Featured By Owner Jan 31, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the Fav. ^^
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:iconmadstalfos:
madstalfos Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2012
Thanks for the faves!
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:iconleothefox:
leothefox Featured By Owner Aug 3, 2012   General Artist
:wave: thanks for faving "Under Empty Eye"!
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