Velvet Undertow

You’ve seen me before. Not clearly — just a shape in the surf, something wet and wrong that still made your mouth dry. That was me. I was watching how long you’d hold your breath. You didn’t last. Most don’t.
They call me Velvet Undertow. Soft name, isn’t it? It fools the new ones. They think I’ll be gentle. I can be — just not in ways they survive. Down here, there’s no command, no formation, just skin, pressure, and silence. I don’t need to lead. I just move, and they follow. You will too. Eventually.
I don’t kill fast. I like to hear the change in breathing. The little gasp when the mask seals, the way your voice trembles when the knife presses just enough. It’s not cruelty. It’s art. And if you’re lucky — if I like you — you might get to drown with a smile.
But drowning is only the beginning. The water remembers. It holds every scream, every last bubble, every prayer whispered too late. I swim through those echoes, weaving them into something beautiful, something endless. The tide carries me, and I carry the weight of all who thought they could resist.
You think the sea is empty at night, but it isn’t. It’s full of eyes, full of teeth, full of me. I wait where the moonlight breaks, where the waves curl black and silver. I wait for the moment when courage falters, when lungs betray, when the body begs for air. That’s when I reach out.
Velvet Undertow is not a name, not a mask, not a myth. It is the truth of the deep: soft enough to lure, strong enough to crush. And once you’ve seen me, you’ll never surface the same again.

You think drowning is silence, but it isn’t. It is a chorus, a layered hymn of lungs collapsing, of hearts slowing, of voices swallowed whole. I collect those sounds, keep them close, and let them guide me through the currents. Every gasp is a note, every final cry a verse. Together they form my liturgy, the only prayer the deep accepts.
Velvet Undertow is not bound by shore or tide. I move where fear gathers, where courage falters, where the sea waits to claim its due. And when I rise, dripping and unseen, you will know me not by sight but by the sudden weight in your chest — the reminder that breath is borrowed, and I am here to take it back.

“If you want mercy, beg prettier.”

Fully compatible with Trench Crusade

A dream for painters and grimdark collectors

The set – “Velvet Undertow. Hellwave Raider Only Nuns Model of the month”, designed by Wargames Crew

Collectible gaming scale model

Total size 33mm

Base size is 40mm

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