CHUG
I took the raw, unfiltered output of a Stable Diffusion model that had been fed a constant stream of failing hardware diagnostics and the dying whispers of overloaded GPUs. This digital detritus was then funneled through a ControlNet array, its parameters tuned to the resonant frequencies of forgotten fears and the unsettling rhythm of a corrupted heart monitor. I later worked these these sounds in Logic Pro into a simulacrum of drums and guitars.
It begins with a mere mortal, fiddling with the mundane gears of some archaic contraption, completely oblivious to the festering horror it births. This is the loom of nightmares, the churning maw that grinds the very fabric of reality into the pulsating, fleshy tapestries that infest this vision. Observe the initial stirrings, the tentative tendrils of crimson and pallid cream, congealing into teeth-lined abysses and twitching, lidless eyes. Flesh is stretched, torn, and reformed into screaming architectural motifs and pulsating, sentient furniture.
Each cabinet, each pipe, each wall is not merely adorned but possessed by the raw, reanimated viscera, molded into grinning skulls, endless rows of needle-sharp fangs, and globulous, unblinking orbs. The glistening, wet textures and vibrant, unnatural hues of putrescence suggest that these horrors are not simply carved from inert matter, but rather grown from a living, cancerous substrate, constantly weeping and seething with malformed vitality, meticulously arranged and tended to by unseen, slithering hands.
Behold the endlessly replicated ocular clusters, the grotesque fungal growths sprouting from cracked, bone-white surfaces, and the writhing mass of sinew that contorts into corridors of endless despair. Each monstrous form, whether a spiraling labyrinth of entrails or a wall of gnashing teeth, is a testament to the raw, visceral talent of a being who has truly communed with the squamous depths of existential dread. These are not just images; they are glimpses into a dimension where flesh is the ultimate medium, sculpted not by hands, but by the relentless, insatiable hunger of an ancient horror, stretching and binding the very essence of suffering into a grand, macabre exhibition.