| You MUST be a member for submitting! Any work submitted by a NON-Member will be declined!|
Right now we are allowing 3 submissions per member a day. This may change later on as the group grows larger.
As the title expresses, we are a group that focuses on the subject of the Paranormal. So all and anything that falls under that theme may be submitted unless it includes any of the following below.
* NO violence towards animals will be accepted!
* NO racial Artwork!
* No art depicting children in offensive/denigrating situations!
* No religious offenses nor discrimination art subjects will be allowed!
* No IDs
* No Cartoon artwork styles such as manga, anime, hentai, etc.
* No Fanart unless it's really exceptional work.
Features: Only the staff can suggest features, all submissions to feature made by members will be declined, unless it is decided from the staff accepting it for its good quality and/or for depicting something powerful.
|More Journal Entries|
The Transmundane AnomalyThe trio – an archer and two swordsmen – stagger through the door, panting and wheezing. They made it. Goodness. They made it.The Transmundane Anomaly by Mattchewbackaar
“Close that door, Soren,” orders the leader, his voice shaky.
They can hear ghostly shrieks from beyond the door. They get closer. Somehow the trio outran them. They don’t question their feat, just accept. Soren musters whatever strength he can from his oxygen-deprived muscles and closes the colossal door. Thud – echo-echo-echo.
Soren keeps his back to the door, gasping. He looks at Ander, a beefy guy clad in steel and a mammoth of a blade in his shuddering hand, and nods his head at a stack of thick boxes. There’re no words. Ander shuffles, leans his blade against the wall and drives the stack toward the door. As Ander positions them in front, he backs off and breathes in deeply through his nose.
His nose picks up a smell. Not his sweat, though there is that, but something else. Iron. It’s profound, nose-curling,
SamhainGhostSamhain by SilverWynd
dance with me
across the graveyard,
betwixt dreaming and waking
as life and death lose meaning
our worlds start to merge
WitchcraftCall me SarahWitchcraft by Scarlettletters
was all she said
and I had the uncomfortable
feeling of being haunted.
I let her legs
and red nails
do the talking -
stories I grew up
not believing in,
silver spoons and moons
hung so low
I could taste them,
and autumn lost
between her shoulders.
I never said the right words
and night retreated
when she turned her head
We let the candles burn -
rich foliage of air
the only traces left.
Love From the GraveI awaken from somber dreamsLove From the Grave by SilverWynd
where nothing is as it first seams,
your voice speaks from beyond the gray,
the unseen watch me with blank eyes,
lost among storm torn ocean skies
to the forgotten gods I prey,
let me sleep amid the tombstones
and wish on the oracle bones,
if only I knew you would stay.