探索者

In a fog-choked battlefield deep within a cursed forest, two young survivors—one carrying the other on his back—stumble through tall, dying grass. Before them looms a grotesque, towering entity: the Wailing Mother. Her form is composed of countless infant-like bodies fused into one giant shape, their tiny limbs twitching and faces frozen mid-scream. At her crown, tangled roots and wet umbilical cords drip black fluid, merging her with the land itself. Her swollen face hangs low, and when she moans, it sounds like hundreds of babies crying at once, shaking the fog around her. As the two figures freeze in fear, small fetal creatures—failed siblings—crawl from the grass around them, dragging their swollen bodies toward the fusion. Each one merges into her bulk with a sickening squelch, making her larger, more aware, and increasingly unstable. The air is thick with the scent of rot and old blood. The ground is slick with mucus and blackened amniotic fluid. Mist clings to the characters’ skin like breath, and their eyes sting with the stench of corrupted birth. Every heartbeat echoes like thunder in this sacred, defiled place. The boy lowers his injured companion, fists clenched. His silhouette stands alone now. A thin, trembling light breaks through the fog, catching the monster’s half-lidded eyes. And then—her massive head begins to turn, slowly, deliberately, staring straight into the camera—as if she knows we’re watching. ⸻ Visual Style Tags (Optional Hailuo-compatible keyword tags) • cinematic dark fantasy • fog field horror • biological abomination • psychological dread • low-angle confrontation • shallow focus • body horror creature

首帧

I2V-02

启用优化

768P