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A twisting, writhing body of scales, chaos and horns. A dragon can not be kept captive, for he was never a slave to begin with. The beast awakens, escape is both swift and violent.
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The ticking of a galvanised heart, one with power and passion. The steam drives the pistons and the limbs shudder into life as the pressure gauges reach critical mass and rip the very fabric of the host.
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You can not outrun death, but damnit it’s worth a try! Demonic forces in this life will try to pull you under my son, but you just gotta keep riding for we are a long time dead.
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Rituals of blood and bone. Engraved upon its forehead with the all-seeing eye, a cursed skull foreshadows the beginning of the end times. Time will tell all.
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Reaping is the loneliest job in the world for this blue-collar demon, neither gratifying nor fulfilling, but it pays. When all else fails, a tortured soul turns to The Blues, for music can soothe even the darkest heart.
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A village beneath the blanket of night is torn asunder by the furious vengeance of a rampaging dragon, her flames engulfing the buildings and rendering the inhabitants to all but ash.
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A highly detailed portrait of Death himself. The textures of his face and robe further enhanced by the uniquely faded wash of the garment. A Reaper for the more street-wise goth perhaps?
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Thank your lucky stars that he only surfaces once a year. Pray that you're not on his Christmas list, because this zombie Santa Claus is here to take you on a terrifying 'slay-ride'. This Anti-Santa shirt Rocks!
Beneath the enchanted moon, the cursed amulet worn by this unfortunate lone wolf spills its awesome, vengeful power out into the dusk air. A snarling wild animal imprisoned by the blackest of magic.
Through the tattered and torn fabric of his death robes, the Grim ReaperÆs grotesque face peers out from the shadow, cold and unmoving with sunken eyes that have seen an eternity. The fabric of time wears thin.
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Now I lay me down to sleepà The restful bones of a long-dead embracing couple lay bare and moon-bleached in the silk lined coffin they were buried in. Six feet under, love remains.
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This Grim Reaper skeleton comes from out of the shadows with his tribal engraved middle bone finger raised in defiance. The back print shows the reaper cracking his bony knuckles.
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