where-antler-guy-is-hoarded

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

PROM

https://new3.fjcdn.com/pictures/Roach+prom_d15e8f_5083711.jpg

Son Abomination asking Susie to prom with Antler Guy Abomination's help

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

Neighbors from Hell

Steve used to joke about having neighbors from hell. After all, they lived in a suburb that had a particularly strict Homeowner's Association. The bane of any man who might let his lawn grow even a millimeter too high for their liking, they were often breathing down Steve’s neck over this or that vehicle in the driveway. Steve liked old cars and motorcycles, he liked to fix things, but the rusted out body of a 1953 Ford pickup apparently was not in keeping with their desired aesthetic. It wasn't Steve's fault there was a family of raccoons living in it, they didn't make themselves known until he had already had it towed to the house. Mrs. Fitzsimmons and her nasty little Chihuahua seemed to always walk by just in time to report him for this or that, as if she just perpetually circled his house, and Frank Harrison had a habit of borrowing things for up to months at a time always saying he would get it back to Steve by the weekend. He swore he had lost at least three ten millimeter sockets to Frank.

So when Steve would joke to his buddies at work that he had neighbors from hell, that is what he meant. Since the night that the only vacant house on the block, which happened to be right next door, had been suddenly occupied by a family of beings literally from Hell, Steve doesn't make that joke anymore. It would be impolite. He also doesn't go to work anymore, not in the traditional sense. The Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense(BPRD), a branch of the US government so secret even the government doesn't know about it, pays him twice his old salary to look after Guy and his family. Guy, short for Antler Guy Abomination, named by Steve's son Timmy after his true name proved to be impossible to reproduce with human vocal cords, was the patriarch of the demon family.

Steve's relationship with Guy and his family had been rocky at the start. Guy’s corporeal form, consisting of an eleven foot tall humanoid skeleton with an antlered deer skull and eye sockets that burned with living blue-white fire, was alarming to say the least. Steve had tried several different methods to exorcise Guy from the neighborhood, including a shotgun and a whole lot of holy water. Guy, for his part, had always been very nice to Steve and his family. As with most things, Guy had simply accepted these attempts on his life by Steve, and continued about his day. Steve had come to admire that about Guy. Without anyone asking Steve for his opinion, generally horrified, Steve's family had welcomed Guy and his wife Hellwife and their son Son. Timmy named the whole family. They got on like a house on fire in fact.

Against his consent he had become friends with Guy and now considered him to be his best friend. Steve's title of Extra-planar Liaison and job description were pretty vague, but essentially he was assigned to help Guy integrate with human society with as little trouble and overall panic as possible. The BPRD acknowledged that it was quite impossible to stop Guy from doing anything that he wished, considering he was Hellish royalty, but they decided that he needed a Liason after the incident in the park. Steve chuckled at the memory of the event that would have probably given him PTSD before he met Guy.

Steve had dropped of the kids at school on the day of the incident, and Sharon and Hellwife had been baking for the upcoming PTA Christmas bake sale, when he returned Guy greeted him as usual outside. He generally seemed to prefer being outside and was unphased all but the most extreme weather. He was wearing a ridiculously ugly Christmas sweater with gaudy light up reindeer. Steve had gotten it as a joke, and given it to Guy, who was genuinely thankful and loved it so much he had used some eldritch craft to put it on without damaging it. His antlers would have definitely shredded it otherwise.

“HELLO NEIGHBOR STEVE. THE FESTIVAL OF THE WINTER SOLSTICE APPROACHES.”

“Yeah, you're right Guy, it's almost Christmas!”

“CHRISTMAS? HMMM. THE LAST TIME I WALKED THIS PLANE I BELIEVE IT WAS CALLED SATURNALIA"

“That name hasn't been used for centuries, buddy, but that's alright.”

“SON HAS TOLD ME THAT IT IS TRADITION TO HARVEST A TREE FOR DECORATION AT THIS TIME OF YEAR.”

“Yeah, people cut down evergreen trees, usually pine or fir trees, and they put them in special stands in their houses. They decorate them with strings of lights and all kinds of other ornaments, and they put the Christmas gifts under them.”

“THEN I SHALL FIND A MAGNIFICENT TREE FOR THE CELEBRATION OF CHRISTMAS AND SON WILL BE PLEASED.”

Without any further discussion on the matter, Guy began to get very hard to look at directly. His form became hard to discern, constantly shifting and changing shape, his glowing flame eyes changed from their usual color to deep amber and finally red, as disappeared entirely. “That is probably not good.”, said Steve to the now empty garden. He decided to go into the house and see how Sharon and Hellwife’s baking was coming along, and wondered where Guy had gone. The answer had come several minutes later when he heard Sharon drop something and then yell for him.

“Steve!”

“What is it, hun?”, Steve said, popping his head into the kitchen.

“Guy is all over the local Facebook groups and the instagram is blowing up! What happened?”

“I don't know? He asked about Christmas trees, said something about Son wanting one, and then he got all weird to look at, and then he disappeared.”

“Well, you might want to come see this.”

Steve came into the kitchen and Sharon handed him her phone. At least three separate local Instagram stories, all tagging Guy's page that Steve had set up, showed Guy appearing in the middle of the city park. He strode up to a gigantic and beautiful pine, that looked to be at least twenty feet tall, and produced a massive ax out of thin air with a flash of blue light. He proceeded to fell the tree with a single blow and then walk back towards the place he had appeared from and then suddenly he and the tree were gone.

Steve walked outside to see Guy, standing there admiring the giant tree he had just cut down. A few minutes later Agent Dougherty, the Agent in charge of the BPRD’s open cases showed up in Guy's driveway. A few hours of conversation with Guy and Steve, and Agent Dougherty and after conferring with Sharon and Hellwife, Steve signed the document that changed his career from software development to official liaison between a family of eldritch abominations, and a government organization that officially doesn't exist.

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

ANTLER GUYS VOICE IS ON POINT

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

That Antler Guy must live nearby

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

This story is much longer than I knew.

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

I love this tysm for writing this!

Neighbors from hell

[I was going to work on my novel, but instead I wrote eleven hundred words on Antler Guy, after I discovered him through imgur.]

Steve used to joke about having neighbors from hell. After all, they lived in a suburb that had a particularly strict Homeowner’s Association. The bane of any man who might let his lawn grow even a millimeter too high for their liking, they were often breathing down Steve’s neck over this or that vehicle in the driveway. Steve liked old cars and motorcycles, he liked to fix things, but the rusted out body of a 1953 Ford pickup apparently was not in keeping with their desired aesthetic. It wasn’t Steve’s fault there was a family of raccoons living in it, they didn’t make themselves known until he had already had it towed to the house. Mrs. Fitzsimmons and her nasty little Chihuahua seemed to always walk by just in time to report him for this or that, as if she just perpetually circled his house, and Frank Harrison had a habit of borrowing things for up to months at a time always saying he would get it back to Steve by the weekend. He swore he had lost at least three ten millimeter sockets to Frank.

So when Steve would joke to his buddies at work that he had neighbors from hell, that is what he meant. Since the night that the only vacant house on the block, which happened to be right next door, had been suddenly occupied by a family of beings literally from Hell, Steve doesn’t make that joke anymore. It would be impolite. He also doesn’t go to work anymore, not in the traditional sense. The Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense(BPRD), a branch of the US government so secret even the government doesn’t know about it, pays him twice his old salary to look after Guy and his family. Guy, short for Antler Guy Abomination, named by Steve’s son Timmy after his true name proved to be impossible to reproduce with human vocal cords, was the patriarch of the demon family.

Steve’s relationship with Guy and his family had been rocky at the start. Guy’s corporeal form, consisting of an eleven foot tall humanoid skeleton with an antlered deer skull and eye sockets that burned with living blue-white fire, was alarming to say the least. Steve had tried several different methods to exorcise Guy from the neighborhood, including a shotgun and a whole lot of holy water. Guy, for his part, had always been very nice to Steve and his family. As with most things, Guy had simply accepted these attempts on his life by Steve, and continued about his day. Steve had come to admire that about Guy. Without anyone asking Steve for his opinion, generally horrified, Steve’s family had welcomed Guy and his wife Hellwife and their son Son. Timmy named the whole family. They got on like a house on fire in fact.

Against his consent he had become friends with Guy and now considered him to be his best friend. Steve’s title of Extra-planar Liaison and job description were pretty vague, but essentially he was assigned to help Guy integrate with human society with as little trouble and overall panic as possible. The BPRD acknowledged that it was quite impossible to stop Guy from doing anything that he wished, considering he was Hellish royalty, but they decided that he needed a Liason after the incident in the park. Steve chuckled at the memory of the event that would have probably given him PTSD before he met Guy.

Steve had dropped off the kids at school on the day of the incident, and Sharon and Hellwife had been baking for the upcoming PTA Christmas bake sale, when he returned Guy greeted him as usual outside. He generally seemed to prefer being outside and was unphased by all but the most extreme weather. He was wearing a ridiculously ugly Christmas sweater with gaudy light up reindeer. Steve had gotten it as a joke, and given it to Guy, who was genuinely thankful and loved it so much he had used some eldritch craft to put it on without damaging it. His antlers would have definitely shredded it otherwise.

“HELLO NEIGHBOR STEVE. THE FESTIVAL OF THE WINTER SOLSTICE APPROACHES.”

“Yeah, you’re right Guy, it’s almost Christmas!”

“CHRISTMAS? HMMM. THE LAST TIME I WALKED THIS PLANE I BELIEVE IT WAS CALLED SATURNALIA"

“That name hasn’t been used for centuries, buddy, but that’s alright.”

“SON HAS TOLD ME THAT IT IS TRADITION TO HARVEST A TREE FOR DECORATION AT THIS TIME OF YEAR.”

“Yeah, people cut down evergreen trees, usually pine or fir trees, and they put them in special stands in their houses. They decorate them with strings of lights and all kinds of other ornaments, and they put the Christmas gifts under them.”

“THEN I SHALL FIND A MAGNIFICENT TREE FOR THE CELEBRATION OF CHRISTMAS AND SON WILL BE PLEASED.”

Without any further discussion on the matter, Guy began to get very hard to look at directly. His form became hard to discern, constantly shifting and changing shape, his glowing flame eyes changed from their usual color to deep amber and finally red, and he disappeared entirely. “That is probably not good.”, said Steve to the now empty garden. He decided to go into the house and see how Sharon and Hellwife’s baking was coming along, and wondered where Guy had gone. The answer had come several minutes later when he heard Sharon drop something and then yell for him.

“Steve!”

“What is it, hun?”, Steve said, popping his head into the kitchen.

“Guy is all over the local Facebook groups and the instagram is blowing up! What happened?”

“I don’t know? He asked about Christmas trees, said something about Son wanting one, and then he got all weird to look at, and then he disappeared.”

“Well, you might want to come see this.”

Steve came into the kitchen and Sharon handed him her phone. At least three separate local Instagram stories, all tagging Guy’s page that Steve had set up, showed Guy appearing in the middle of the city park. He strode up to a gigantic and beautiful pine, that looked to be at least twenty feet tall, and produced a massive ax out of thin air with a flash of blue light. He proceeded to fell the tree with a single blow and then pick it up and carry it back towards the place he had appeared from and then suddenly he and the tree were gone.

Steve walked outside to see Guy, standing there admiring the giant tree he had just cut down. A few minutes later Agent Dougherty, the Agent in charge of the BPRD’s open cases showed up in Guy’s driveway. A few hours of conversation with Guy and Steve, and Agent Dougherty and after conferring with Sharon and Hellwife, Steve signed the document that changed his career from software development to official liaison between a family of eldritch abominations, and a government organization that officially doesn’t exist.

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

“A house I pass on the way to work has this sculpture in its yard. Its about 8 feet tall.”

(Source)

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

“A house I pass on the way to work has this sculpture in its yard. Its about 8 feet tall.”

(Source)

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

Can I buy this from you

Edit: I was told I can not buy that one but there is another one I can buy, and I will buy it as soon as I have enough money

Probably won’t get as many notes on this one, but I still like to share!

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

Check out this cool post. I search for new material daily but I find nothing so I'm doing this. I'm suffering from writers block, a particular variety that prevents me from coming up with ideas.

Im adding drawings to the list of things because I'm desperate for something more interesting then my boring coffee shop job.

Thank you kind followers,

@where-antler-guy-is-hoarded out.

(Edit: the only reblog so far is this reblog and I currently have over a hundred followers so I'm changing it to 150.)

100 Followers Special

I’ve almost hit 100 Followers!

I’m starting a Q&A, so just ask me anything, anything at all and I will answer it! (Unless it’s terribly personal)

I’m also doing a raffle! First place can request a story up to 20k words. I will need details and tons of time because I am not the best writer and because writing is tiring and life. Second place can request a story up to 15k. Same rules apply. Third place gets a 10k word story and an undecided bonus! This will go on until I hit 100 followers then I will announce the winners! Reblog to win.

I will write almost anything. If it’s something I’m uncomfortable with I’ll tell you.

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

What Antler Guy has in his garden.

(image credit to Dan Hoare on twitter)

I ONLY JUST LEARNED ABOUT THE EXISTENCE OF THIS MUSHROOM????? WHICH ERUPTS FROM AN EGG BEFORE UNCURLING HELLISH ARMS, EXPOSING ITS STICKY MASS OF SPORES TO BE SPREAD BY FLIES ATTRACTED BY THE SCENT OF ROTTING FLESH???

Admittedly, I am easily won over by all organisms that attract flies with the scent of rotting flesh. But the octopus stinkhorn (Clathrus archeri) also has tentacles, a freaky egg stage, and blackish goop, so it’s my favorite now.

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

The Doom that Came to Portland

It’s Halloween. I wrote a story. The tale of how an abomination came to walk our earth in these dark times, and to intone a name of fate…

There had been other times, other places. Other manifestations. Atlantis. Babylon. Nan Madol. London. This city, too, was a nexus of humans, spun into his orbit when the cold stars aligned with the dark undertows of the seven hells. They were closer to the End Times now. The call of this nexus had become irresistible. The demon-lord knew himself summoned.

He let the lightning call him down on a rainy night. Standing on a hard road, amidst the stink of ozone, he drank in the new city. Its stone and brick and metal. Its human scale. There was a scent of of dead leaves and vile refuse. More, his ineffable seventh sense was warmed by the feel of lava nearby. Death and fire had cloaked the land here, and would come again.

His first movement was to honor the sleeping volcano, one spirit of fire to another. He bowed his vast head, a naked antlered skull, in salute. Then, bone by bone, his disturbing form began to move.

Rattling through the polluted shadows, he saw men still drank cheap beer until they reeled. They treated their lemans to the unclean flesh-meats of pigs as a precursor to mating. His dark soul felt a tentacle of kinship to them for that. For he was not the solitary demon-lord he had been of old. He had progressed in power, he too had mated and spawned. Now, it was here that he was destined to dwell a time, and his son would learn the ways of this world he was destined to rule.  His etoliated hand already held the corroded key of his appointed dwelling. Once he opened the door, his hell-wife and spawn would come to him. But not before.

A scrap of pink cardboard blew against him, got caught in his ankle bones. He bent and turned the banked fire of his eyes upon it. Before it burst into flame, he caught its words: VOODOO DOUGHNUT. The cardboard burned sweet, like some new incense. An excellent auger.

He strode through drifts of dead leaves, leaving more ashes in his wake, until he came to a black wall. The concrete and paint were strong enough to endure his regard. More runes awaited. He read the message they held:

KEEP PORTLAND WEIRD.

He nodded, somberly. A sign of many sorcerers. Perhaps they would battle the mangled apricot hell-beast vying to rule the land. He was glad to return to interesting times. There was great promise for his son.

A few more strides in the heart of the night, lured on by his demon’s seventh sense, settled the matter. He stood now before an abode. It was very new, less than two hundred years old. Despite this, it had a charm, small, dark, intimate. The key in his hand glowed to life, a corroded red. The lock on the door matched it, radiating the same corrupt crimson. The last of his bones clicked into alignment.

This, for now, was home.

A shrill cry cut the night. “STEVE! STEVE! Tell Timmy it’s time to come in. I swear, every Halloween, I can’t tell who’s got more of a sugar high, you or him – ” Two shadows, tall and small, hustled into the house.

The house next door.

Again, the demon-lord bowed his antlered skull. “STEVE,” he intoned. “NEIGHBOR STEVE.”

happy halloween! and grateful credit to @geostationary for the original NEIGHBOR STEVE text

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

WIP animation of Steve’s neighbor, Antler Guy watering his hell plants.

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

100 Followers Special

I’ve almost hit 100 Followers!

I’m starting a Q&A, so just ask me anything, anything at all and I will answer it! (Unless it’s terribly personal)

I’m also doing a raffle! First place can request a story up to 20k words. I will need details and tons of time because I am not the best writer and because writing is tiring and life. Second place can request a story up to 15k. Same rules apply. Third place gets a 10k word story and an undecided bonus! This will go on until I hit 100 followers then I will announce the winners! Reblog to win.

I will write almost anything. If it’s something I’m uncomfortable with I’ll tell you.

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

I NEED TO HOARD MORE

So I’ve been looking around for more Antler Guy but I can’t find anymore, I think I got it all. However my glorious public (95 people) deserve more! And since I can not write I would like to encourage anyone who can and will write Antler Guy or if you have found more, SUBMISSIONS ARE WELCOME. I’m sorry my grammar is bad English is my first language.

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

Sleep Safely, Neighbor Steve.

ALTERNATIVE of COMIC

Wanted to play with the comic so made a very small, alternative perspective.. It’s time sensitive so only view it at night/morning between (9 pm - 9 am). But you can just adjust your computer’s clock if impatient.

[where-antler-guy-is-hoarded]

@meltdraw Im stealing your Antler Guy.

PLEASE LEAVE BROOMS NEAR THE ENTRANCE