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A while ago I discovered a side project by for a Blood sequel that wasn't a rushed mess. What they have so far is really well thought out and I can't wait to see more. Check it and their other Cthulu Mythos project here and here.

Due to the space and time travel shenanigans, there are a diverse number of enemies and settings reflecting the times and genres of horror they draw inspiration from. And, I wanted to illustrate some potential enemies as well as add to the lore.

……..

In 87' Ophelia Price was an above average college girl from the valley. She was a Berkeley honor student, law school prospect, and cheerleader with a future as bright as the California sun. Her only flaw the bad boy lover she couldn't quit. Still it wasn't a life she was happy with.

She could barely stand her vapid and shallow clique, but had too. Being in a sorority looked good on the resume, looked good for law school, and looked even better with a leadership role. It consumed her, changing her into something she wasn't. It tore her away from her closest friends.

All that changed on a Halloween evening when the stars aligned. What began as a sorority party would end in a massacre. The killer had cut the phone lines to the remote party shack. With a crash through the door, he tore through the crowd like wet paper with his rusty chainsaw. With low cunning, he proceeded to hunt down scattered survivors one by one, growing ever more powerful and inhuman with each kill. Ophelia was the only survivor, not only of among her sorority but of her once close-knit group of friends.

The Berkley Slasher had claimed the bookish computer wizard Ishmael, the star football player Gabriel, and her punk dropout boyfriend Caleb. All three of had died trying to warn and protect the doomed sorority. She survived, but she would not be all right.

As she disemboweled the hulking monster with its own powertool, something awoke in her.

The warm girl next from valley died that night in the cabin's fire. Reborn from her ashes was a cold woman whose only home was the open road. Moving from town to town guided by strange nightmares and visions. Her only drive was the thrill stalking night to hunt monstrous creatures and humans, for a price.

As the decade draws to an end, she's been brought back to her home suburb for an uncomfortable family reunion in the face of tragedy. However, the longer she stays in her quaint valley she finds her nightmares more vivid.

Visions familiar yet twisted faces appear: a reserved half woman half machine assassin, a fanatical dark magician preacher, and an aging weathered gunslinger. A dreaded word of warning is shared between their lips of the Cabal.

That word was littered everywhere in the valley. It was in the constructions company building the new mall. It was the county club in the hills. It was the name given to the entourage of heartthrob hair metal star Gideon Frost. It was the unofficial moniker of her late brother's fraternity. It was what The Berkeley Slasher spoke of failing with his dying breath.

As last night of 1989 approaches, Ophelia’s life is about to change forever once more.

...............

Sigma Alpha Beta is one of the fastest growing frats in the country and one of the largest in California. A club for failsons from wealth boost their resumes, one the quickest ways for nobodies make connections into circles of wealth, and a home to some of the most legendary parties with a bottomless tap. Few know of its true purpose as a recruitment front for The Cabal, an order to The Dark God Tchernobog.

The Cabal’s investment into the student body and facility has been a vital boon to the organization. It has them inroad into the rapidly growing computer industry and its nascent information highway. Likewise, it has also granted access to a near endless supply of fresh cadavers for experimentation through the medical school program. But, as things in the valley have begun to unravel, it’s provided another sinister service.

As mortal servants and agents of rival gods rush into the valley, and Ophelia’s wanton destruction stretch their resources thin, the mask had to come off. Failed pledges and others that had seen too much have been gruesomely transformed into thralls enslaved to the will of a ruthless hazer.

These are not the lumbering zombies of 20s and 30s, these can be faster, just as durable, and use weapons with violently cunning compared to their predecessors. At certain distances they will attempt maneuver and doge gunfire. They will jump over barriers and crash through windows. They seemingly coordinate using distraction to draw gunfire and flank. Unrelenting they will continue to pursue and attack any threat to the Cabal until their bodies give out or until their hazer expires.

Once one of their eyes is sacrificed to Tchernobog, they become half automatons of flesh and half extensions of the hazer's body controlled through his third eye. Their souls and improved performance are tied to their hazer controller. While they will still walk and fight upon the hazer's death, they shift to a much slower, dimwitted, and aimless state. Without their controller they pale in comparison to more properly prepared cadavers from the morgue or the facilities beneath the club and mall. They even fall behind their counterparts from the 20s in such a state.

The first type of pledge is the standard slasher: average former college student armed with only a machete or hand axe. Quick and nimble, he will strike multiple times in a single attack. On strike may not cut deep, but if the subsequent stabs and slashes aren't parried or stopped with a lethal round, they will cause serious damage.

The slasher's bigger cousin is the rusher. Whether a former champion of football, hockey, or lacrosse, the rusher is bigger, stronger, and more durable. He will charge into anything deemed a threat, and proceed to pummel it with blunt weapons or axe once disoriented or knocked to the ground from his charge. Overhead strikes by the rusher are impossible for Ophelia to parry, and result in a massive amount of damage.

The shooters are turned ROTC students and even former security guards. Still remembering some training and possessing equipment from life, shooters use ranged weapons like pistols and even occasionally shotguns or hunting rifles. They are slower than their slasher and rusher counterparts, with much of their independent actions being heavily controlled by their hazer to prevent friendly fire.

The hazer himself is a normal human and similar to the standard cultist initiates in combat. He has no arcane magic other than the ability to control the undead tide to his third eye. He has no altered physical characteristics like the improved strength and bullet resistant flesh like the club guards or the cabal's agents. At most he is armed with handguns, uzis, and the shotguns. But like his initiate companions he is smart and has a strong sense of self-preservation. He will take cover and run from engagements when the tide seems to turn, even more so than initiates and other Cabal trusties.

Fortunately for Ophelia, when one of his thralls is dispatched he will be stun locked from the psychic shock and strain on his third eye. This opens up a strategy of finishing off a thrall as he tries to escape leaving him vulnerable in the two seconds he’s forced to stand and shake.

Description
A while ago I discovered a side project by for a Blood sequel that wasn't a rushed mess. What they have so far is really well thought out and I can't wait to see more. Check it and their other Cthulu Mythos project here and here.

Due to the space and time travel shenanigans, there are a diverse number of enemies and settings reflecting the times and genres of horror they draw inspiration from. And, I wanted to illustrate some potential enemies as well as add to the lore.

……..

In 87' Ophelia Price was an above average college girl from the valley. She was a Berkeley honor student, law school prospect, and cheerleader with a future as bright as the California sun. Her only flaw the bad boy lover she couldn't quit. Still it wasn't a life she was happy with.

She could barely stand her vapid and shallow clique, but had too. Being in a sorority looked good on the resume, looked good for law school, and looked even better with a leadership role. It consumed her, changing her into something she wasn't. It tore her away from her closest friends.

All that changed on a Halloween evening when the stars aligned. What began as a sorority party would end in a massacre. The killer had cut the phone lines to the remote party shack. With a crash through the door, he tore through the crowd like wet paper with his rusty chainsaw. With low cunning, he proceeded to hunt down scattered survivors one by one, growing ever more powerful and inhuman with each kill. Ophelia was the only survivor, not only of among her sorority but of her once close-knit group of friends.

The Berkley Slasher had claimed the bookish computer wizard Ishmael, the star football player Gabriel, and her punk dropout boyfriend Caleb. All three of had died trying to warn and protect the doomed sorority. She survived, but she would not be all right.

As she disemboweled the hulking monster with its own powertool, something awoke in her.

The warm girl next from valley died that night in the cabin's fire. Reborn from her ashes was a cold woman whose only home was the open road. Moving from town to town guided by strange nightmares and visions. Her only drive was the thrill stalking night to hunt monstrous creatures and humans, for a price.

As the decade draws to an end, she's been brought back to her home suburb for an uncomfortable family reunion in the face of tragedy. However, the longer she stays in her quaint valley she finds her nightmares more vivid.

Visions familiar yet twisted faces appear: a reserved half woman half machine assassin, a fanatical dark magician preacher, and an aging weathered gunslinger. A dreaded word of warning is shared between their lips of the Cabal.

That word was littered everywhere in the valley. It was in the constructions company building the new mall. It was the county club in the hills. It was the name given to the entourage of heartthrob hair metal star Gideon Frost. It was the unofficial moniker of her late brother's fraternity. It was what The Berkeley Slasher spoke of failing with his dying breath.

As last night of 1989 approaches, Ophelia’s life is about to change forever once more.

...............

Sigma Alpha Beta is one of the fastest growing frats in the country and one of the largest in California. A club for failsons from wealth boost their resumes, one the quickest ways for nobodies make connections into circles of wealth, and a home to some of the most legendary parties with a bottomless tap. Few know of its true purpose as a recruitment front for The Cabal, an order to The Dark God Tchernobog.

The Cabal’s investment into the student body and facility has been a vital boon to the organization. It has them inroad into the rapidly growing computer industry and its nascent information highway. Likewise, it has also granted access to a near endless supply of fresh cadavers for experimentation through the medical school program. But, as things in the valley have begun to unravel, it’s provided another sinister service.

As mortal servants and agents of rival gods rush into the valley, and Ophelia’s wanton destruction stretch their resources thin, the mask had to come off. Failed pledges and others that had seen too much have been gruesomely transformed into thralls enslaved to the will of a ruthless hazer.

These are not the lumbering zombies of 20s and 30s, these can be faster, just as durable, and use weapons with violently cunning compared to their predecessors. At certain distances they will attempt maneuver and doge gunfire. They will jump over barriers and crash through windows. They seemingly coordinate using distraction to draw gunfire and flank. Unrelenting they will continue to pursue and attack any threat to the Cabal until their bodies give out or until their hazer expires.

Once one of their eyes is sacrificed to Tchernobog, they become half automatons of flesh and half extensions of the hazer's body controlled through his third eye. Their souls and improved performance are tied to their hazer controller. While they will still walk and fight upon the hazer's death, they shift to a much slower, dimwitted, and aimless state. Without their controller they pale in comparison to more properly prepared cadavers from the morgue or the facilities beneath the club and mall. They even fall behind their counterparts from the 20s in such a state.

The first type of pledge is the standard slasher: average former college student armed with only a machete or hand axe. Quick and nimble, he will strike multiple times in a single attack. On strike may not cut deep, but if the subsequent stabs and slashes aren't parried or stopped with a lethal round, they will cause serious damage.

The slasher's bigger cousin is the rusher. Whether a former champion of football, hockey, or lacrosse, the rusher is bigger, stronger, and more durable. He will charge into anything deemed a threat, and proceed to pummel it with blunt weapons or axe once disoriented or knocked to the ground from his charge. Overhead strikes by the rusher are impossible for Ophelia to parry, and result in a massive amount of damage.

The shooters are turned ROTC students and even former security guards. Still remembering some training and possessing equipment from life, shooters use ranged weapons like pistols and even occasionally shotguns or hunting rifles. They are slower than their slasher and rusher counterparts, with much of their independent actions being heavily controlled by their hazer to prevent friendly fire.

The hazer himself is a normal human and similar to the standard cultist initiates in combat. He has no arcane magic other than the ability to control the undead tide to his third eye. He has no altered physical characteristics like the improved strength and bullet resistant flesh like the club guards or the cabal's agents. At most he is armed with handguns, uzis, and the shotguns. But like his initiate companions he is smart and has a strong sense of self-preservation. He will take cover and run from engagements when the tide seems to turn, even more so than initiates and other Cabal trusties.

Fortunately for Ophelia, when one of his thralls is dispatched he will be stun locked from the psychic shock and strain on his third eye. This opens up a strategy of finishing off a thrall as he tries to escape leaving him vulnerable in the two seconds he’s forced to stand and shake.