Belzebuth House Series - Portrait of the Second
Hyper-realistic fantasy portrait of my interpretation of the demon Belzebuth, as a dynastie not one unic entity.
Story :
They are the House of Beelzebuth. Not one, but many. Not a demon, but a dynasty.
Hyper-realistic fantasy portrait of my interpretation of the demon Belzebuth, as a dynastie not one unic entity.
Story :
They are the House of Beelzebuth. Not one, but many. Not a demon, but a dynasty.
Born of rot and crowned in whispers, they do not rule with swords or flame — they reign through infestation.
Each child of Beelzebuth is a fragment of corruption given flesh: a sibling, a cousin, a twin of decay. Together, they make up a royal swarm, a noble infection that spreads not by violence, but by presence.
Their forms shift, but one thread remains: elegance betrayed by something deeply wrong.
One appears as a slender youth, pale and soft-spoken, with eyes too large and pupils that flicker like wings. Another, taller, draped in robes that crawl with invisible things, speaks in riddles and breathes through a thousand tiny mouths. The eldest floats above the ground, cloaked in black silk and the scent of spoiled honey, trailing behind a cloud of golden flies that never land — only watch.
They gather in silence, communicating without words, feeding off thoughts, doubts, the secret guilt we bury deep. They do not need to break the body. They feast on the slow rot of certainty, the gentle collapse of faith, the decay of love unspoken.
Where one goes, others follow. Not all at once — but enough to stain the air. Enough to turn dreams sour.
To see them is to question what part of you invited them in.
They are not evil in the way fire is evil.
They are the patience of ruin, the tenderness of collapse, the royal heirs of endings that come not with a scream — but with a sigh.