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A single private worship room in one of the many divulgence areas on the second floor—the ones that Adam found safe enough to approach, anyway—contained a group of seniors hiding from the threats outside. He was sure they were a few of the luckier ones, since the other divulgence areas on the third floor he’d entered had been left wide open for parasites to swarm the interior.

His nerves were high when he entered the space, both from the undead wanderers circling him and the armed men patrolling the rotunda, and at first he thought there was no one alive there either. The sound of crying stopped him during his search and he turned his head toward one of the closed doors, listening for a moment before returning to the entrance to enclose himself inside with the parasites.

Deadening the parts of him that were unsure—the parts that felt fear—he moved up to each of the hissing, mutated students and jabbed the knife into the back of their necks upward into their skulls, twisting for emphasis before tearing out the blade in a torrent of blackened gore. Quiet nausea roiled in him that he swallowed down with mouth pressed tight, his attention glazing over as he made himself see the bodies of his fallen classmates as moving obstacles instead of whoever they’d once been. He paused to watch each student fall after he’d stabbed them, surveying their heaped forms without uttering a sound before returning to the door where he’d heard the crying.

Adam knocked in the same pattern as before, calling out to those within as loud as he dared in the new stillness. “It’s Pendergast,” he barked, knocking loud. “Adam Pendergast. Open up—I’m here to help! Hurry!”

The door eased open after a short moment and promptly slammed shut when he tried to approach the opening. He knocked again and tried contact once more.

“I’m wearing a mask,” he said loudly, glancing back at the parasites limp on the ground. “Keeps the parasites away. I stole it off one of them and I’m using it to get you guys out. I need you to open up—and fast! There’s no time!”

He stood aside when the door opened again. The crying was louder now, exposed to open air. Students exited—he counted seven of them, four of them female. Several of the females shrieked at both him and the parasites on the ground with blood pooling everywhere. A female covered her face, shaking in horror, and pressed her back against the wall.

“That’s…that’s Myra,” she gasped. “They bit her before—and—we had to leave—oh my God. That’s…her…”

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A new world, oceans aqua in color against an auburn skies and fields color in pale rosy grass identical to a wheat field. The winds reminisce Commander Amber Dubois of fall twilight in Florida, U.S.A. As she standing upon the summit which the vessel touched down, she looked upward at the skies, seeing two moons in distance, and another planet circling planet tagged P294 which she arrived. Twin automated spheres silver in color with the metallic shell exited the craft floating, a solitary green light emitting from both similar to cyclops sight. “Sparrow 1 commence mapping sequence and 2 setups base-ship perimeter defense in 10 kilometers radius,” Said, Cmdr. Dubois. Metallic spheres immediately shot off in a flash of an eye while radiating a humming tone. She pressed her right ear and spoke slowly, “drones recon cliff ranges west of base-ship.” Dozens of black circular objects as miniature drones sprout from the ship’s landing pod in v formation towards hilltop regions shaped like pool of shark fins.


As night descended, the skies on P294 turned a smokey hazelnuts gray as the air became the icing similar to a New England evening. The two moons luminance a pinkish glow on planet covering. Cmdr. Felt confident since Sparrow 2 completed sitting perimeter defenses and now on sentinel mode, while S1 is 85% completions of its surface mapping sequence. Cmdr steadied in command deck viewing images she receiving from the drones reconning the hills and S1 though her visual hud.

As the last of the drones were recovered, she ready for sleep, “Commander Dubois, all systems in 30 minutes will be under my control. Once S1 completion of the mapping cycle will be assigned for boundary sentry mode.” ANNABELLE the onboard ship’s Al. Cmdr. “Carry on,” she said getting into her sleep pod.

The nights on P294 are ten hours long, the Commander slumbered in a pod. As she awakened the following morning, she realized bein 1 of 12 explorer exists from a dying world called earth.

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The Cursed Planet (Book 2)
Mature Readers Only

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Morbid luck helped Adam navigate the havoc within the temple. There were enough humans on the main floor to distract the growing number of rabids lumbering around. The fleeing, hysterical students also kept Jackal’s armed men headed downstairs to follow them instead of back upstairs. Adam headed there now, hurrying up the spiral stairs two and three steps at a time, keeping watch for any more of the figures in black.

Heat flooded his face underneath the mask as he moved quickly between the reanimated threats. He tried not to pay attention to the shrieks around him, both from the infected and the people on the ground. Panic welled in his chest and he had to shove it away. There was nothing he could do against all of them on his own.

The red manual double doors leading to the bishop’s soon came in sight when he reached the third floor. Wide open earlier, both doors were now shut tight. He slowed and stopped when he reached the door, pushing against it and finding firm resistance from within. With fist clenched tight he pounded against the wood, shouting.

“Open up!”

Straggling parasites wandered nearby—former students, judging by the costumes, now mutated into hellish form. Decaying, even, rapidly and right before Adam’s eyes, their flesh mottling purple and black and erupting with oozing blisters. He watched them amble about, at time throwing back their heads to shriek or swivel their heads in rabid search of vulnerable prey.

He banged on the door again, harder. “Hey! Open the door! I’m here to help! Come on—hurry!” He kept pounding until his fist soon swung against air when the door slid open quickly, revealing the red interior within. Adam rushed inside, turning around fast to shut the door behind him. Something solid whacked him in the head instead and reeling, he stumbled backwards, falling to the ground.


He grunted as he reached for his head and guarded when the solid object whacked him again, striking him in his cowered arms and everywhere he was exposed. Adam retreated, shifting over to crawl until he was able to push himself back to stand, and swatted a figure back that darted into his line of vision to attack again. He spotted a flash of red and a lion’s mane of blonde curls—it was Gracie.

Fucking Gracie.

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H̷̊̕é̵̚l̵̹͑p̴̛̔ ̵̛͍M̴̋̕e̸͊̾.̶͊̄.̸̅͠.̷̾͐ | Nov 19-20, 2020

Another fanart piece for Amoung Us based upon one of my blue draft sketches. I had so much fun playing with the shadows and filters for this. I was going for Cosmic Horror and I think I nailed it.


This is the line are piece I did prior to up load and also another reason why I like blue drafting pencils. They have such a good contrast on the eye (at least for me), especially when scanning in things.

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Jack gazed up at the neon sign above the brothel that read: fairies, nymphs and imps. A very unoriginal sign, he thought, but effective nonetheless. What human would look at that sign and not be compelled to look inside.

Jack likes to visit these so called mythical whorehouses in between contracts to distract him from his distasteful job of bounty hunting.

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You Caught Me…| Nov 19, 2020

So Amoung Us is a thing and its alot of fun but, I am a clumsy fuck. I am a dumb imposter but my headcannon is a cosmic horror thing beast for me. So I did it with my artsona which was fun. I have more and one which I am digitizing and redoing right now.

It should be done in a couple days.

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Book 2: The Cursed Planet (draft)
Mature Readers Only

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Harvest was a bust. The night was a disaster. Party of the year was more like mistake of the year. Well, at least for Adam and everyone that he knew.

He rested his forearms against the railing on the second floor balcony, glum and lacking enthusiasm, and stretched his fingers, which were still sore after the hard knocks he’d cracked across Spencer’s mug. Adam watched the masses of bodies dancing below as they appeared and disappeared under flashes of light, unable to tell the accurate hour because his COM remained frozen, even after all the activity. However, he knew Blood Fang should be taking the stage at the top of the hour and everyone looked prime for the main event.

Talita’s quick escape after the fight weighed on Adam. He couldn’t check on her personally because she’d hidden herself away somewhere, although that idea didn’t seem so bad to Adam either at the moment, so he avoided others as best as he could to retreat to the second floor. Jonah found him there within an alcove and joined him, watching the festivities in silence. Adam glanced aside once Jonah spoke, voice rising in volume to resonate above the din.

“Li’s pissed,” said Jonah. “Never seen her like that. I thought she was about to come after me and Ava.”

“No—she wouldn’t do that,” said Adam grimly. “She was hiding from that fight. No violent bones in her body. Grace pushed her and…that’s what happened tonight.”

“Hope Ava was able to find her.”

“Yeah. Ava will get her to talk. Those shitheads were laughing at her and…I know that bothered her.” Adam’s attention returned to bodies below and the projection hovering above the stage showcasing the performers below in a theatrical size. “She gets sore over that…people here rejecting her for her past. Causing trouble. I knew it happened but…that fight was bad.”

“Could’ve been worse.”

“Might get worse. Li hit first.”

“Yeah. Probably will. Best part about being in Westmont is that Gracie can’t report the fight—she’d have to mention where it happened. Everyone would hate her for it.”

“Hope so.”

“Don’t beat yourself up.” Jonah clapped him on the shoulder. “Girl’s not happy ‘til she’s passed out. Hope she let Garrett get close enough to take a look at that nose. ”

“Might chat with the judge,” remarked Adam, narrowing his lids. “Always a way to get things done. This goes beyond a school spat. It’s the wards, the state of RedSect…everything.”

“Always running to your powerful Union friends for favors. That ain’t noble, Pendergast.”

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Copies of Book Two in hand!!!
It is always so exciting to see the hard copy for the first time!

#fantasyart #fantasyauthors #fantasyartwork #fantasysketch #archangels #wingedwarrior #fantasybooksseries #fantasyconcept #fantasywriterofinstagram #fantasybookillustration #warrior #art #scififantasy #ilovefantasyart #characterdesign #characterart #characterconcept #kindriegrovestudios #kindriegrove #fantasydrawing

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A witch stood in the ladies’ room and washed her hands with still-running water for longer than necessary. The witch studied the reflection of the redhead beside her, features furrowed like she was deep in thought.

The witch was so petite that the pointed hat on her head took up most of the reflective panel in front of her. All Talita could see of the witch was a pair of bright eyes making slow, somber circles around Talita’s face.

Talita recognized her—they were in Applied Mathematics III together. The pixie-ish senior and future medic, like Jonah, always shoved her hand in the air first whenever Professor Denowallerton asked a question. Talita didn’t mind the girl but a lot of the other students in their class thought she was an annoying know-it-all. That girl’s name…Talita turned over the possibilities in her mind, trying to remember.

Bethany. The girl was Bethany.

Bethany swam in dark robes a few sizes too large with hems that trailed behind her. The top of her head just about reached Talita’s shoulder—and Talita wasn’t so tall to begin with. The hat ended up making them about evenly matched in height. Bethany kept her stare on Talita’s injuries as she moved from the sink to an orb dryer fastened to the wall. The restroom filled with a quick hum as Bethany dried her hands and the noise shut off a few seconds later.

Talita offered Bethany a smile, although it wasn’t returned, so she let hers fade. Smiling hurt anyway.

“Hey Beth,” she said, attempting a light and cheery tone. “You made it tonight—party of the year, right?” She feigned a laugh. “Well, you look really nice. I like your hat. So cute.”

“Hey…Li.” Bethany walked past the row of private stalls with black doors and stopped in front of Talita, still staring. “Thanks.” The bright gaze moved from Talita’s face to the stains on her costume. “You look, um…I don’t know. Are you okay?”

Talita rolled her eyes in an exaggerated way like the question was silly, the action stiff in her swelling orbital. She dusted off her costume absently, the material still drenched from Gracie’s drink. She waved Bethany’s question away.

“Oh, sure,” she said. “I’m fine. This is all…a part of my costume. Been fooling people all night, too.” The fake laugh erupted and disappeared again. “Guess I got you too, huh?”

Bethany winced. “That’s part of your costume?”

“Don’t like it?” Talita gestured at her soiled, mussed skirt that still glimmered as she moved. “I’m trying to be terrifying this time around for Harvest.”

The witch arched onto her tip-toes and leaned closer, inspecting Talita’s face. “Looks real to me, Li.”

“It’s supposed to look real,” replied Talita.

“Hm.” Bethany lowered back down and stepped away, still suspicious. “What are you supposed to be then?”

Talita glanced at her reflection and thought of her mother, whoever that was. She shrugged. 

“A victim.”

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The Cursed Planet (Book 2) // Mature Readers Only

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Elias, Davies, and Hudson singled out a pair of senior students dressed as skeletons to follow from their ride on the East Central shuttle, tailing the stragglers past the border into the recesses of RedSect. The men were dressed as skeletons as well, smearing black and white field paint onto their faces to shape the garish bones. They carried their weapons inside of sleek black cases that showed no sign of what was hidden inside.

Faint sounds of music and bursts of colored rocket lights dispersing into festive patterns in the gray skies signaled Harvest Eve celebrations were on in full swing. The zone they were in hadn’t received orders to lockdown yet, although the sirens were sure to sound at any point during their travels. Zero hour—the start of Harvest and the Ascension of the two Ipirian moons–was another hour away.

The boys headed in the opposite direction of the activity, snaking through sparsely populated city streets that were framed by the staggering silhouette of the Kidish Pass mountains to the north. Elias gestured at Davies and Hudson to slow as another group appeared from a side street, joining the two boys ahead—two more males along with two females. The students laughed as they greeted each other, glancing once or twice at the men meters behind them, before turning back toward their next destination.

Solar orbs hovering above towering metal posts lit the way as they walked, illuminating a path now dim from the building darkness in the sky. The moons wouldn’t be completely visible with the current weather, although their glow would beam through the shadows. Elias pulled his hat low to his head as the damp mist around them collected into a dust of light rain while Davies, a step behind him to his right, repeated the same thing he’d said twenty minutes earlier.

“There’s a wolf out there,” said Davies, turning his head toward the dark clusters of trees and hills around them. “I think I really heard it that time.”

“For fuck’s sake, lieutenant,” grumbled Hudson. “No wolves before, no wolves now. They’re at the zoo, where they belong. The most yeh’ll find in these parts are flying rats and those ugly twisted-head owl things.”

As if on cue, a clamor of distant hoots reached them from one of the clusters of trees they’d passed. Davies looked behind at the length of winding, deteriorating road they’d traveled and sucked his teeth. “Don’t like those things either,” he said. “But wolves…always creeped me out.”

“You’ve got no issue blasting a bloodsucker in the head but a dog throws you off,” said Elias. “Who promoted you again?”

“Captain,” replied Davies soberly. “Until today, parasites were stupid. To a certain degree, I’d say they still are. But wolves are hunters and they’ve always been intelligent. You’ve seen what the Earth Tomes say. Ipirian wolves are ten times worse, but still the same kind of species. Like the fuckers hop from planet to planet too, stalking us.”

“Mr. Davies,” said Hudson. “Shut up. Stupid shit yer sayin’”

“Just an observation, sir.”

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From the godless spew of time-before-time, from the blinking womb of the sable mother-flesh, Gommohr was dragged. She was a thing of maws and eyes and horns, carried atop a palanquin of her own many legs and covetous arms. Upon her form she built a paradise of protoplasm, a banquet which the first children of reality could feast upon and grow strong. 

Gommohr thought to make lords to adjudge those upon her corpulent form, to thrall the feasting colossi of her dominion. Like a sculptor, she worked her umbral flesh to create sons and daughters. And so sired she seven children, and gave them the power of cunning, and the gift of domination.

Eldest was Throgg, a creature crafted of ichor and cascading bile, who surveyed with many faces the strange hordes. He bore two great and terrible horns. Second was Loleth, of great beauty, a covetous beast, crafted of shapeless flesh and a shroud of many faces. Then was An-Yath, called the Conqueror, who was more forged than born. He was seeping flesh, who took shelter in a suit of blackened armor, jagged and cruel. He wielded a whip of fire which he called Duchur-Dul. Tharalgrun was next, and they took the form of a great and horrible dragon, long of body with many thousands of writhing wings, and a single great, unblinking eye. There were the twins, Nurg and Algug, abominate and frail, as well as ever silent. They each bore four faces, with eyes looking down from above stern beaks, endlessly watching and addressing wordless messages to their matron. Then was Pnuhad, more a weapon of Gommohr’s than a true creature. He was a great leech-being, who could draw from one their will and fortitude.

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