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The Beast Beneath the Cross - Chapter Ten: The Devil's Harvest
Created a year ago · 11 comments· 0 likes
Dreamshaper XL Lightning
The night had grown thick and oppressive, the chill of late October settling over Bedburg like a death shroud. Torches flared in the hands of the gathered crowd, their flames casting flickering shadows on the faces of the villagers as they crowded around the execution platform. The anticipation in the air was suffocating, as if the very night itself waited for the final blow to be struck.
Peter Stump, his body broken, bloodied, and bound to the stake, trembled in his chains. His eyes darted wildly across the sea of faces that surrounded him, searching—begging for a single sign of mercy, of forgiveness, of anything that could save him from what was to come. But there was nothing. No salvation. No deliverance.
Only hatred. Only vengeance.
Burning Tree Skeleton: Dark Fantasy Concept Art
This image shows a large tree on fire in a dark forest, with a skeleton at the center. The concept art is reminiscent of Ashley Wood, with rich colors, high contrast lighting, and a dark, moody atmosphere.
Created by JellyDonut on Oct 7, 2024 using the Dreamshaper XL Lightning AI image generator model.
Creation Settings
- Preset Style
NightCafe
- Text Prompts
- A large tree in the middle of the dark forest is on a massive fire, burning bright with a Skeleton in the Middle.Weight: 1detailed matte painting, deep color, fantastical, intricate detail, splash screen, complementary colors, fantasy concept art, 8k resolution trending on Artstation Unreal Engine 5Weight: 0.9
- Model
- Initial Resolution
Medium
- Aspect Ratio
1:1
- Runtime
Short
- Overall Prompt Weight
50%
The crowd had grown silent, their earlier chants of "Burn the wolf!" now fading into a tense, palpable bloodlust that hung thick in the air. Peter's chest heaved with each ragged breath, his face pale and streaked with tears and blood. He could feel the firewood piled beneath him, smell the faint scent of kindling waiting to be ignited.
But worse than the looming flames was the crowd's gaze—hungry, bloodthirsty, their eyes gleaming with the promise of the violence yet to come.
“Please!” Peter’s voice, raw and hoarse from his earlier screams, broke the stillness. His voice carried through the night, desperate and pitiful. “I beg you, please! I repent! I swear it—I repent!”