The box "Shub-Niggurath"

Шкатулка "Шаб-Ниггурат"
Шкатулка "Шаб-Ниггурат"
Шкатулка "Шаб-Ниггурат"
Шкатулка "Шаб-Ниггурат"
Шкатулка "Шаб-Ниггурат"
Шкатулка "Шаб-Ниггурат"

Author: Praskovia Vlasova (Girhasha)

Material: the box was made from aged wood, relief intensified by MagicSculpt.

Internal dimensions: 12,3 х 18,3 х ~5,5 cm. (4.3 x 17.2 x ~2.1 in)

External dimensions: 14 х 20 cm. (5.5 x 7.8 in)

Status: Sold.


"The evil attracts the vice, no matter how small and insignificant it is.


The silence was broken only by the insinuating rustle of shuffled cards. The dark card backs flickered so often that it was impossible to see their ornament. The cards intertwined with each other, diverged like a fan, then hid behind a palm and appeared again. They stopped only when gambler’s slender fingers quickly drew the top card, and a moment later they kneaded it into the deck again.

And each time it was the same card - the Death. Frank shuffled the deck endlessly and whenever he drew a new card, every time it was the same result.

His fingers were more familiar with playing cards than with these elongated and heavy Tarot cards. However over the past few days he had enough time to learn how to use them. While he automatically shuffled the deck of cards, he was not distracted by his own thoughts. Frank paid attention to the drawn card only occasionally and he made sure that the prophecy has not changed.

He never believed in fortunetelling, but the sinister deck of cards continued to repeat the same thing. A day ago he could not sit still; he was rushing around the empty house searching for the darkest corner, where he could hide from his fears. The Death scared him. But when he understood the true sense of the prophecy, his fear changed with a feeling of waiting, thus, he had only emptiness in his thoughts.

Frank put down the pack of cards and took a box in his hands. It was almost invisible in the darkness; only scales of the chapped lacquer reflected red blinks of a smouldering cigarette; like thousands of horrible eyes flashed and died out in the shadows. The old cracked wood was warm to the touch, and if you stand still for a moment, it seemed like the box breathed through these splits.

He tried to open the box cover many times but he did not succeed. Frank clearly knew that there was no any hidden lock or tricky latch, which could hold the cover, because he examined the insides of the box by himself before.

The box catched his attention, the very same day he broke into the abandoned house, haunted by fear. He smashed the basement window and tumbled down on a mountain of cartons with some old stuff and immediately got into a far corner.

 His ratty eyes looked with caution at a narrow window, and his long nose did not cease crinkling, like if he sniffed for something. His heart was beating frantically and the fear of pursuers has replaced all other human traits that have still remained in him. At that moment he literally was a cornered rat and he behaved accordingly.

When it had became clear that his persecutors will not appear, he started to investigate the burrow where he got into. He went upstairs into a living room and the first thing that he saw was the box, which was on the middle of a dining table. It seemed as it was waiting for him. The dark wood absorbed the light and caught his sight.

Like a hypnotized animal, Frank approached to the table and picked up the box. In his hands the cover of the box had opened silently and there were cards inside. He obediently took the deck of cards  in his hands and carefully examined  the insides of the box which were upholstered with the black velvet. He found only blackened and cracked wood as a result of time and simple hinges were holding the cover. After that, the cover dramatically slammed and had never opened again.

All following days Frank did not leave his finds even for a moment. He was calmed down by the deck of cards in his hands, even if the cards were drawn by hand and imaged strange and terrible pictures. In the beginning he tried not to stare at them, because the sight of the simple pencil strokes inexplicably made him believe that they were acquiring depth and extent step by step, like if they strived to break out from the restraining frames.

He was carrying the box in his coat pocket all the time, often stroking its intricate ornament with his fingers. It seemed that elegant lines of the ornament were emerging from the black wooden surface, they curved as a snake rings and then went down into the depth again. They enmeshed, overflowed each other, formed the real labyrinth where Frank’s nervous fingers were roaming. But when his fingers fell off from the smooth lanes of the box, at the same time another ornament was felt under the wooden surface, consisted of sharp teeth and bare bones.

Both of these items scared and appeased him at the same time. A cold composure like a thin trickle poured through them in his restless soul. It gave him assertiveness and vague understanding of the future changes.

The next day Frank dared to leave the house. He went to the railway station and hid the bag with stolen money in the cell of a cloak-room. He used a local coin telephone to call his ex-boss and dictate him the address of the abandoned house. Then Frank decided just to wait.

He cloaked himself with the darkness and the silence where each rustle was transforming into a deafening rumble. The cards in his hands did not stop forecasting his Death and the pattern on the cover of the box pulsed like swollen veins. The old wood obviously felt hunger for blood and it did not matter whose blood it will be.

Nevertheless, Frank was warned unlike his enemies. Strangely, but it seemed that it was the first time of all “Rat” Frank’s conscious life when he did not feel fear at all, and his calmness was as dark as a thicket of the forest.

The piercing squeak of an opening door sounded in the reigned silence. In the same time the cover of the box leaned back like a hungry mouth craving for young flesh. Frank slowly stood up from the chair and went to the kitchen for the butcher knife. He knew what must be done…"


Next chapter --->>>


This box was made as a special order of a deck of Tarot “The dark Grimoire". The box was made from aged wood, relief intensified by MagicSculpt. It was upholstered inside with velvet. A special locating block was made for cards, they do not scatter inside even after shaking the box. The pattern on the cover is pleasant to the touch and it makes a good impression on a foreteller.

It is a very nice item. And if the "warmth of the hands" about which we have already talked really exists and can be absorbed into something – you can be sure that it has impregnated the box so much that it trickles down and drops on the floor