Generate your own gothic horror scenes
Create your own dark fantasy images with our AI image generator. It's free and easy to use!
The Beast Beneath the Cross - Chapter Seven: Blood in the Midnight
Created a year ago · 9 comments· 0 likes
Dreamshaper XL Lightning
The forest was alive with sound. The rustling of leaves, the snapping of branches, the howling of the wind as it cut through the trees like the whispered breath of some unseen force. But above it all, there was the soft, rhythmic howl of a beast—low and haunting, a chilling song that sent a shiver down the spines of all who heard it.
In the heart of the woods, beneath the canopy of ancient oaks, Peter Stump moved like a shadow, his body hunched low, muscles coiled, eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight. The wolf within him had fully taken hold, and with it came the all-consuming hunger. He no longer felt the pain of transformation. Now there was only the hunt—the thrill of it, the burning desire to feed.
Wolf Attack in Medieval Home: Dark Fantasy Art
A dramatic image shows a wolf attacking a boy inside a medieval home. Golden tones and purple shadows create dramatic chiaroscuro, with sinuous lines and detailed textures in a dark, gothic atmosphere.
Created by JellyDonut on Oct 3, 2024 using the Dreamshaper XL Lightning AI image generator model.
Creation Settings
- Preset Style
Dark Fantasy
- Text Prompts
- Wolf attacks boy in medieval German homeWeight: 1a masterpiece, 8k resolution, dark fantasy concept art, by Greg Rutkowski, dynamic lighting, hyperdetailed, intricately detailed, Splash screen art, trending on Artstation, deep color, Unreal Engine, volumetric lighting, Alphonse Mucha, Jordan Grimmer, purple and yellow complementary coloursWeight: 0.9
- Model
- Initial Resolution
Medium
- Aspect Ratio
1:1
- Runtime
Short
- Overall Prompt Weight
50%
His limbs, no longer constrained by human weakness, carried him through the woods with terrifying speed and grace. His claws dug into the earth with every step, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. He could smell the fear of the villagers on the wind. It stirred something deep inside him, something primal and savage.
His thoughts, once coherent and human, were now fragmented, filled with images of blood and flesh. There was no Peter Stump now—there was only the wolf. And the wolf hungered.
At the edge of the village, Karl Heidemann led the mob into the woods, his musket held tight against his chest, his heart pounding in his ears. The men behind him carried torches and weapons—whatever they could find in their haste. Axes, knives, and scythes glinted in the moonlight as they marched forward, their faces pale with fear but set with grim determination.