Teeny Tiny Tales of Terror: G is for Ghastly

[Nathan of the FoS]

Golem, stone [Monster Manual]

"He breathed life into me, he molded me, he spoke to me as a son; yes, he loved me."

"And yet you killed him?" I exclaimed.

The cold marble hands clenched until I saw a powder of dust fall from them. "He poured his soul into me! He gave me every human appetite, and the means of satifisfying none. How can a statue eat, sleep, breathe? Where shall he find the family that will take him in?"

He fell silent, then continued, his harsh voice low and impassioned, "Did I say 'none'? Your pardon, Doctor. One human urge I have that I can gratify--the urge to destroy. And that urge I mean to sate, if it be possible."

Stonehands, from Twelve More Tales of the Macabre, Jean Lafolie

Golem, zombie [Denizens of Dread]

After consideration, I have decided that the creation of the 'zombie golem' (see notebooks 471-3) cannot be described as truly original work, as it is the merest transposition of principle from the famous 'flesh golem', the only difference being the instillation of an necromantic animus into the constituent corpses before beginning assembly of the construct. Such is the subtlety of my tormentors.

Azalin Rex, laboratory notebook 913 page 37

[Nathan of the FoS]

Golem, clay [Monster Manual]

The mystes of the Zalahiri say, that man is formed from dust, and the Making God mixed this dust with his spittle to make mud, from which he fashioned a man and a woman, who were the first parents of all humankind. It was and is the custom among them, therefore, to make to themselves servitors in their own image, fashioned of barrow clay, which they call gholam; but just as men to the gods are but very indifferent servants, proud, insubordinate and wrathful, so the gholam inevitably becomes toward his mortal maker.

From the Har'Akiri Book of Heresies, trans. Malcolm Hopper

Golem, doll [Denizens of Dread]

"And will it do just what I say, Maman?"
"Yes, of course, Henri darling. M'sieur Achronnaix made it especially for you, so that you might have a playmate and a guardian both."
Henri's fat little hands squeezed at the air as he considered this information. "Thank you very much, Maman," he said at last. "Come, Jacques!" And the doll turned to its master and bowed. "I am coming, M'seiur Henri," it replied in its clear, high voice, and together they trotted out of the room.

The next morning Julietta, the housemaid, found her mistress' little pug Harlequin lying on the hearth-rug strangled; and as the good woman wept over her pet, Henri looked on in approbation from a secluded corner. Jacques' feelings were impossible to decipher, as his porcelain face had not been endowed with sufficient flexibility to grant him any power of expression.

Bad Jacques, from Twelve Tales of the Macabre, Jean Lafolie

[Gemathustra]

Golem, Bone [Denizens of Dread]

"Yasmine tossed her torch down into the new chamber, then we all entered after it.
"Unlike the hallways and other rooms of the king's tomb, bones and broken skulls littered the floor: it was impossible to set foot in that dessicated abatttoir without stepping on the brittle debris.
"When I bent over to retrieve the torch, a bony claw seized my hand. Then a chorus of shrill voices burst from the skulls of the room...
""If you all wish to see Mei Fu Wang, you first must give a tithe to the Duke of Skulls!"
"And with that, a great, dusty bulwark of giggling, chittering skulls and sharpened bones pulled itself free of its hiding place."
- from the journals of Jerome Delacroix, Mordentish adventurer

Grim Reaper [Denizens of Dread]

"The wards remained in place, the candles remained lit, and the magic circles remained undisturbed. Nothing would be able to harm Mme. Anna while she recovered from her illness. The only thing we did not anticipate was Mme. Anna, herself.
"When the clock struck 1:45, she rose from her bed, something that she could not do in the last 10 days of her illness, and blew out the warding candle on her nightstand. She turned to me, and with a sad, wistful smile, she told me, "It is time."
"She stepped out of her bed, and the door gently opened. A tall figure, shrouded in black silk emerged from the doorway, offering its skeletal hand to Mme. Anna.
""It is time."
""Yes, it is time."
"She took its hand, and then they were both gone."
-passage from Spirit Circles And Shadowed Pits, Memoirs of Jeremy Addler

[Nathan of the FoS]

Grim Reaper [Denizens of Dread]

"The wards remained in place, the candles remained lit, and the magic circles remained undisturbed. Nothing would be able to harm Mme. Anna while she recovered from her illness. The only thing we did not anticipate was Mme. Anna, herself.
"When the clock struck 1:45, she rose from her bed, something that she could not do in the last 10 days of her illnes, and blew out the warding candle on her nightstand. She turned to me, and with a sad, wistful smile, she told me, "It is time."
"She stepped out of her bed, and the door gently opened. A tall figure, shrouded in black silk emerged from the doorway, offering its skeletal hand to Mme. Anna.
""It is time."
""Yes, it is time."
"She took its hand, and then they were both gone."

Come on, baby, don't fear the reaper.

[ScS of the Fraternity]

Note the abscence of the cow bell.

Gremishka [Denizens of Dread]

"I waited until nightfall, after the store had closed. As promised, the apprentice shopkeep met me it the alley, after his master had fallen asleep. In his hands was the cage, in which slept the facinating creature.
"You must remember these three rules," He said, "First, never let it in the daylight. It hates the light. Second, never give it water. It doesn't need any. Third, never, ever feed it after midnight."
I gave him the gold and walked away. What did I care about feeding or caring for the ugly thing? After all, how much trouble could such a tiny beast cause?"

[Gemathustra]

Come on, baby, don't fear the reaper.

Well, as they say, "Sometimes, Dying is like going to the bathroom: When you gotta go, you gotta go, and there's not a damned thing you can do about it."

[Mangrum]

Gemathustra: Could I get an "attribution" for the grim reaper tale?

ScS: Sorry, I'm going to have to veto the Gremlins pastiche, since that movie's monsters don't really have much in common with Ravenloft's gremishkas.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Gibbering mouther [Lords of Madness]

A thousand eyes to receive Its beauty,
A thousand mouths to taste Its savor,
A thousand tongues to proclaim Its glory.
This is the Messenger which was promised us, the One who is Legion, whose tongues express all truths, whose eyes receive all light, whose mouths consume all that is fit to be consumed. Eagerly we await the coming of the Messenger!

The Book of Thaan-Naagaaru, supposedly retrieved from Bluetspur, 637 BC

[Gemathustra]

Gremishka [Denizens of Dread]
"Mayor Bonnivale emerged from the bushes around Bellweather Manor to meet his new "business partner," the spiritualist Glamgel. Bonnivale thrust a heavy sack of coins before Glamgel, who casually hid it within his voluminous blue robe. Glamgel, in turn, shook his right sleeve, and produced a cat. Or rather, a cat-like creature with tremendous eyes and huge, funnel-like ears.
"Bonnivale eagerly pointed Bellweather Manor out to the creature, who, in turn, simply gawked back at him, apparently in awe of the mayor's bowler hat. Glamgel shook his head, picked up a rock, and hurled it through one of the manor windows. While the mayor fearfully clutched his bowler, afraid that his scheme was now laid bare to the world, the spiritualist pointed to the smashed pane, and the creature eagerly clambered up the wall, and entered the house through the broken window.
"When I turned back to see the two malefactors, both mayor and spiritualist were gone."
--passage from Spirit Circles And Shadowed Pits, Memoirs of Jeremy Addler

[Nathan of the FoS]

Goblin beast, goblin hunting spider [Ravenloft Gazetteer V]

I dunno. I hate a goblin more than any human, I guess, but I think you underestimate ‘em. They aren’t bright, exactly, but if you think they’re stupid you might end up admiring the inside of one of their cooking pots. They breed critters up, like these spiders they have, ‘bout the size of a small pig. They’re vicious and they’re smart, and the goblins have ‘em tame, or mostly. Sometimes the goblins will set ‘em to making traps—webs and tripwires and nets, things of that kind. Sure, sometimes they’ll eat a goblin, too, but as my old friend van Richten says about things like that, “it would be unwise to rely on it.”

Geddar Ironheart

Goblin beast, goblin wolf (worg) [Monster Manual, Ravenloft Gazetteer V]

I am not sure you’d believe me, old friend, but I tell you only what I saw and heard myself. The goblins milled about, and then several more rode in on the back of wolves—a custom of theirs I am sure you’re familiar with. One of the chieftains, as I took him (or possibly her—with goblins I can rarely tell) to be, asked the riders a question—but it was one of the wolves who answered. I cannot claim to speak Goblin at all, but to my ears it reproduced the familiar goblin gabble near-perfectly. It could not possibly have been mistaken for any vocalization commonly made by beasts of any sort…I am forced to revise my opinion of the danger posed by goblin wolves upward considerably.

George Weathermay to Rudolph van Richten, private correspondence

Golem, flesh [Monster Manual]

This one's kinda silly; let me know if you want something else.

Vivienne: “But surely, M’sieur Gallimafrey, it must be a great trial to have so various a nature! I can only imagine the difficulty one has in finding shirts when his arms came from two different men.”

The Creature (sighing): “Truly, M’selle Vivienne, it is very difficult to find a tailor who can accommodate me; and yet I have other troubles of an even more pressing nature. You see, my maker supplied me with the haunches of a svelte young dancer, and my left hand was borrowed of that notorious rake Jacques Delgado; so that, unless I attend with care, I pinch myself quite black and blue!”

From the operetta The Adventures of Young Heidenmor

[Mangrum]

This one's kinda silly; let me know if you want something else.

Yeah, as always with these blurbs, I'm looking to avoid overt humor.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Well, I'll leave that one up as a bad example.

How about

Flesh golem (Monster Manual)

The cage rang like a great bell as lightning struck the rods at the top of the tower again and again; sparks flew along the lines between the various apparati, and within the cage I could see something writhe.

"Er...Herr Mordenheim?" I said, pointing toward it. "It's...alive."

He glanced at it with remarkable sang froid and replied, "Oh. Yes, it's alive." Turning away with disinterest, he said, "Merely a repetition of an old experiment; I'm trying to re-establish certain baselines with the equipment."

I looked into the cage again, and bit back a scream; a human face looked out at me, its features locked in an expression of the most extreme agony.

Journal of Gerard Devolant

[Nathan of the FoS]

Geist [Denizens of Dread]

Those on the far side of the Veil vary among themselves in personality and attributes as much or more as do those we call the Living...among the most innocuous are those spirits whose sole stock and store of influence over the living is to reveal to them the manner of their passing over. Such an encounter may be frightening but is unlikely to prove dangerous; the prospect for freeing a spirit of this type of whatever shackles bind it to the world of the Living is much better than for most...

Ars traversis, or The Art of Crossing Over, anonymous, first published in Mordent, 644 BC

[cure]

GRIM

“When the young agent of mine failed to return with the bones I investigated. My approach could not have been stealthier, at least until dead and live alike were set on edge by the cry of a great and ghastly owl who presided over the place with a sense of propriety proper to none but myself. I bid it begone. Yet it failed to so much as flinch. More astonishing still, it fixed its will upon my being and urged flight upon my soul. Undeterred by its failure in this, it leapt from its withered perch and swooped down at me, its claws extended. The grace with which I side-stepped the attack gave it no pause. It was a determined and remarkable creature, but I was preoccupied with matters of consequence and simply spoke a word which drove it from existence. For two and a a half centuries I thought nothing more of the thing til a second young agent sent to that graveyard failed to return to me last night.”

-Strahd von Zarovich in conference with Madame Eva

[Jakob]

Gaki, shikki-gaki [Oriental Adventures]

The cave was damp and cold, and made Shiro's nose itch. He accompanied there his grandfather, carrying his exorcist staff and a bowl of hot, steaming soup. Grandfather praied all the way to the cavern. They discended for about thirty minutes, then Grandfather took the staff and the soup and ordered Shiro to wait there. He, then, disappeared in the dark of the cavern.
He waited for a long time, kicking coobles, counting the cracks in the cavern's ceiling, and poking the many mushrooms growing on the walls.
He could hear Grandfather chanting the litany he sang in every village that requested his assistance. He could even hear a strange buzzing sound... Like snoring. The the chant stopped. Then the sound of something washed on the floor. A scream.
"Grandfather!" he yelled. Nobody answered.
Them from the darkness, a figure came. It was Grandfather tired as always after he did his work. The bowl in his hand was empty.
"Let us go, Shiro." the old man said "The village is now safe"