Jim here–I love David Davis. Not only does his feature writing and comic design kick ass, but the guy can do fiction to boot. For the first time we are able to feature a staff writer (had to go through the same blind screening process as anyone else) on HauntedMTL. I bring you something to chew on…
Teeth
The teeth are not like normal teeth.
In the moment they are seen they are shocking.
In this jagged mouth the spacing was all wrong. The top row
of teeth had a gap large enough between the teeth for a tooth from the bottom
row to meet the top gum, and the bottom row had a gap large enough between each
tooth to touch the bottom gum.
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The mouth was like a zipper and the rows interlocked in a
uncanny narrow wall of yellow. Rather than two rows of teeth, the grin was an
unnatural singular row. Each tooth, with each closing of the jaw was growing
progressively filed down and sharper. More jagged and snaggled in the mouth.
Chunks of enamel were beginning to flake off and small divots began to appear
between the teeth. The teeth that had been forced into the gums to make the
uncanny pattern would wiggle and tear at the gums, but never quite uproot
themselves.
In the moment the gaps closed there were sounds.
The scraping of tooth against tooth for one. The noise was
repulsive at a primal level, like a bone being dragged and splintered across
another. As each tooth sheared those around it, it was then followed by a wet
squelch of each tooth sinking into the raw and bloody gums in the mouth.
In the moment the mouth closed there was pain.
As the teeth sank into the bloodied gums, fire would roar
from each puncture and spread throughout the entire mouth. Tears would come
streaming down wide and terrified eyes. The pain would cause shortened
breathing, and panic, and even clenching of the jaw. It would only last for so long,
though, as the mouth would need to open.
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In the moment the mouth opened there was taste.
The hot scent of blood and the taste of infection and pus
would gush from the gums as the snaggle would untangle itself. Hot streams of
sickness and vital fluid would run down the gums, onto the bloated and bruised
tongue, and down the throat.
In the moment there is a reprieve; I drown in my own
sickness and it will all be over.
David Davis is a writer and illustrator in Southern California who makes comics and creepy things. See more of his work at hpkomics.com.
Continuing our AI journey from last time exploring Little Red Riding Hood herself as the Big Bad Wolf… All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva.
How very… Phantom of the Opera predatory… this is definitely not what I had in mind. Maybe something more cutesy?
Ugh. Maybe not.
Wow, that seems like such a cop out, cropping off the head so you don’t have to depict it. And I don’t want to lose the Little Red Riding Hood reference completely.
So no surprise there, I knew that was too many references to work.
And as promised in Big Bad Poetry, we shall embark on our next AI journey, this time looking at Little Red Riding Hood. I had wanted to depict her as the Big Bad Wolf one and the same, although maybe not so big nor bad. But it just wasn’t happening quite as planned. All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva.
So I actually like this even better than my original vision, it is playful and even a bit serene (especially given the Sinister style). The wolf is just being a wolf. It’s quite lovely, really. But it wasn’t what I had in mind, so I revisited the idea later to see if I could get that result…
Over the river and through the wood flashed the fleet-footed Red Riding Hood on her way to her “grandmother’s” house.
When running past, who should she see but just one of the little pigs three cowering like but a tiny mouse.
“But my dear piggy, what do you fear?” Red Riding Hood asked as she slunk near, teeth hidden under a sheepish smile.
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The nervous small pig looked up in fright and decided that Red was alright, missing the subtle clues by a mile.
“The Big Bad Wolf, that horrible beast upon the other wee pigs did feast!” the last little pig said with a squeal.
Red Riding Hood laughed with a great growl and threw back her heavy long-robed cowl, in a vast terrifying reveal.
For she was really the wolf Big Bad hidden beneath the cape that he had stolen from Red Riding Hood at point.
“And now I’ve caught you too my pretty and surely t’wouldn’t be a pity if I gobbled you up in this joint.”
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T’was then the wee pig leapt to his feet And cried, “Big Bad Wolf, I shall defeat, for I am no ordinary swine!”
The little pig also wore sheep’s clothes spun in spells every woodland witch knows; Old Granny herself was quite divine.
“Now give me back my granddaughter’s cape, before I grab you by your ruffed nape and send you pig-squealing down the road…”
The wolf dropped the cape and ran, that cur, but Granny was swifter and hexed his fur and the wolf she turned into a toad.
Thus the moral of this story goes, when in the woods, no one really knows what sheepish sheep’s clothing is a ruse that big bad wolves and old witches use.
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So this is actually an intro to my next AI art journey with NightCafe which developed from me not getting the results I wanted (Little Red Riding Hood herself as a wolf). Here’s a preview with Eric’s versions as he is much more literal in his prompting than I am, but where’s the fun in that? 😉
Prompts (from left to right) in Dark Fantasy style, executed Aug. 1, 2023:
Bipedal wolf in Red Riding Hood’s cloak
Bipedal wolf in Red Riding Hood’s cloak close up portrait
Bipedal wolf in red cloak close up portrait
Portrait of myself with dark makeup and crow skull headdress, backlit by the sun.