Hastur, the King in Yellow

Clad in the ragged robes of despair, Hastur drifts into mortal sight like a nightmare dressed for court. His presence unravels sanity, his whispers corrode reason, and his very name is a contagion of dread. To cultists, he is majesty incarnate; to investigators, he is the ruin behind every mask.

I began painting Hastur in oils to bring out the organic feel of the sculpt, then later refined and completed the piece with acrylics. Hastur's disciples were all painted in acrylics.