Xtinction Agenda Lord Sloggoth of the Deep Foul Pit

Lesson One. April Fool's Day is not a holiday. Understand what a holiday is. Then, Lesson Two: understand what a mystery is. If you cannot understand such things as holidays and mysteries, then skip to Lesson Three: find an artist who can make an audience forget that stories should make sense. Another way of saying this? Find someone who puts the reader into a warm bath. Someone clean. Find yourself a Tim Sale.
"I've just come from Arkham."

Here, the dead have no shape of their own. Nor does the hero of our story. Not at first anyway. For him, life is first lived as the form of life and then as content. Watch the eyes bulge and fall to the ground. Watch the limbs grow back. Watch sword fall from shoulder joint onto the earth. This is life returning to itself whole. Here devil gods are vanquished and order restored.
"I'm still missing thirty body parts."

The three men each made a vow. To women they pledged their lives. And then, to uphold those vows, they made an oath. To each other they promised to bend but not break the laws that bind. They did this for the greater good.
This is ultimately the story of how one man buckled under those twin imperatives, how one man shattered into two and how with both hands he brought the others down into misery with him.
"Our jobs don't include murder, Harvey."

We wanted to tell the best possible story we could. Nothing more. Kids those days, they didn't get what the Big Guy stood for, you know? They thought he was all gee shucks and apple pie, flying around saving kittens from trees. So we thought we'd shake it up a little, show them his heart pumped blood just the same as you and me. But to do that we needed a memorable villain, right? Something original and not like anything else Superman had ever faced before!
*Draws a picture of Wolverine crossed with Punisher and the Incredible Hulk*
"...violence is the price we pay to accomplish a greater good."

Bore of a gun wide fires metal through bone and flesh, leaving hanging bits of red and white. Down in the green they die. Or in the mud. He does this so that John can go up close and pull Sarah to the safety of the pathway home. Away from this bitter war. Toward peace and the valley.
"That we're like animals! It's in the blood! It's natural! Peace? That's an accident! It's what is!"

Splatters of black, flowing and bubbling over rich red, floating islands where the only law is all against all. We have to keep this from getting out.
Razor edge filaments tendril 'round wrists, slithering upwards and under your eyes into your mind. We have to keep this from getting in. 
Contain it before it contaminates us. Contain it, if we can.
"I'm chaos Mistah Kurtz, chaos--and the rest of the world won't admit that it's just like me."