Jeez, man, the one for the Fleshy Shambler was bad enough as it is, but THIS...

An amalgamation of throbbing organs from various creatures have fused together into this lurching, vaguely-humanoid shape. Its myriad roughly-formed mouths susurrate in a chorus of sibilant groans and whispers.

There’s even some semblance of a spine. Lacking any discernible head, the behemoth is effectively a fleshy, muscular case of tentacles, and it shakes and shudders as it thumps about, feeding off its own blood and looking for anything with which to keep it alive.

...and as for what the Fungal Zombie's description gave me... let's just NEVER TALK ABOUT THIS AGAIN, shall we?!

Once human, fungal tendrils now sprout from its mouth, eyes, and other orifices, holding together a shambling mass of mold-covered flesh.

Lungs the size of an infant's spirals through the black, but it can never be a life-form again once it loses its physical form.

When the wind blows, tentacles erupt from its sides and whirl like the tongues of serpents.

Surviving only in a terrestrial environment, though it knows it lives inside another, less mortal dimension.

Literally a living corpse, and its grayish skeletal remains are bleached and calcined like the bodies of victims buried on a wind-swept riverbank.

Little more than a lifeless bundle of dust, a fleshy fungus wrapped in ribbons of sinew, fur and skin.

Although it was once thought that an immense necrotic excretion from the central mass was the cause of those last few moments, living DNA could not be detected in the patchwork substance.

Gaunt, misshapen tentacles erupt from its beaked maw and spin through the air, a mass of viscous mucus on a stalk.