He’s the last breath of the harvest, the claw behind the grin. Shrivelgrim doesn’t walk, he looms. With a face like dried rot and claws sharp enough to carve through bone, he guards the patch when the moon turns blood-orange. His jack-o’-lantern smile is a trap, and his hands? They reach for souls, not candy.
Part of the Haunted Patch collection, this terror is stitched for those who know the scariest thing in the dark… is already watching.
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