thing of pure nightmare. The face of hell. Of every hideous thing in the world, not just in aesthetics, but in spirit. Roadkill. Swarming bugs. Prey being caught in the jaws of a predator. Open wounds. Charred bones. Parts no longer connected to the body they once belonged to. War. Wreckage. Death. Every image you’ve ever seen that lingers behind your eyelids, that discomfort you cannot shake. The things that get inside and reassemble you. Make you uglier at your core.
