A Faceless Crisis

A face crumbles to the floor

and the question grows
No trace to find the locked door
Within it's secrets, trapped
and soon I will become the silence
Still without an identity mapped

and soon I will become the faceless shadow
Fast to soon slip away
With the colors gone and hollow
To bathe within the crumbles from my face
and the answer departs
Leading to nothing but empty space.

Forever to climb a mountain, a mountain called past 

The Creeping Shadows of Chaos


I cheated Death…now it stalks me.

9:00 pm
The city of the weeping faceless

Into the night sky, fires of chaos burned. From beyond unseen lips of the rotting damned, ashes of the cremated, calmly fell down upon the lifeless remains of what was, silently floating down to cover those long since thoughtless and buried, those whom death had filled with the slow suffering of dark resurrection an agonizing hunger. On the cold wind, cries of pain echoed softly.

Myles’s eyes filled with despair.

No glimmer of hope remained; only the bones of a long dead paradise, a haven once covered with living flesh, now picked clean and forgotten; left to the shadows of timelessness, to the unseen that walk beyond the low burning fires of hell. The wind of suffering howled.

How did I survive…I should be dead.

Under each slow, heavy foot step, shards of glass popped and crackled as he staggered in a hazy stupor through the burned out remains of the old street. Out upon a world of maggots and worms, he gazed, a savage, cannibalistic world that had eaten itself to death, leaving only the putrid, dank air to stir within the void. No comfort reached out to him, no hand to ease the fears, only hopelessness surrounded him.

Everyone is gone now…nothing is left…

The city before him lay in ruin. The rubble of burning cars and trucks, and abandoned barricades; the smoke fleeing into the sanctuary of the eternal heavens. What was once a happy, living world had died away, becoming nothing more than a dark reminder of the day that devoured the living the soul.

The store fronts, the old sidewalks; no soul existed within their realms, only the deepest vacuum of space, of void where the once loved and highly regarded had long faded into the grave, and shivered in the cold ground with the squirming dead; their only comfort.

Each building had become nothing more than a hollow shell, a dead cadaver, where once, shiny glass beamed with a sweet glow of inviting words, allowing all to see within a wonderful world, but was now broken, giving way to the horrible grin of the deathly unknown.

Gripping the handle of the blood stained broad sword tightly, he pressed forward into the unknown, fighting as he stumbled against the rushing urge to run away and hide, to cower from the demons that wallowed in the shadows of torment, from the faceless who stalked him. Into his ears, something whispered. Turn back.

Even the face of the moon hid away, refusing to comfort him with its dark red arms, as it pulled the blanket of clouds over itself it terror. Life had been driven away from everything that once held onto it; or devoured.

In the isolation of death and sorrow, those who reside within themselves become as two minds, sharing the soul of a single body. Even when in the company of another, they keep their thoughts locked deep inside.

What if there are other’s still around? No matter…I have to worry about myself now.

Against the shiny surface of unbroken windows, the reflection of his large, muscular frame contorted and stretched, reaching out as if to grab something, anything that could give salvation from the creeping hungry. Within the space of his mind, images of dead chaos lingered. All things that once lived, now lay alone, lost somewhere beyond the reach of life. He stopped to gather his senses.

They’re coming…I can hear them in the distance. Scratching and clawing against anything in their way, just like rats…I have to find a place to hide…just for a little while to let them move on…I need sanctuary from this death that is stalking me…before I become what I fear most.

I can’t kill them all…I have to run to survive, hide to live…killing is only when I have to. I want out of this forsaken place.

Like the hand of withered of comfort, lights burned low, beaming out from the dead carcasses of stone and brick, reaching through the haze, reaching to him, as though to pull him into their arms; to protect him from the rabid ones who lurk beyond the light. Something caught his attention.

Berry’s Pub…why not.

Peering beyond the chasm of murky gloom, the cold comfort of a familiar old place became clear in the night. From the soft, flickering light above the door of the old pub, a low hum resonated, filling him with a dim hope. No life stirred within; no sounds of laughter, or footsteps, or pinging of glass, nothing beyond the dying light which faded in and out and of existence.

Maybe I can hide till daylight…

As he stepped up to the decaying remains of the long forgotten, only nothingness greeted him; no warm hand, no words of welcome. Only the chilling silence of a derelict institution welcome him to its door, as it whispered into his ear, Come in. Myles stared through the dusty window.

A place where only stillness exists…where the voice of life has long faded into nothingness…everything has been kissed by death…not one thing is safe…but what if?

“Hello…is anyone in there? He spoke through the glass as he grabbed the steel door handle. “Hello!”

Into the soft flesh of his hand, a stinging cold bit down, numbing his skin as it chewed with rabid delight. As if to keep him from the warm safety within, it gnawed to bone, eating away any feeling his hand once had. He pushed hard against the door.

It’s locked…Maybe the old side door is open.

Before him, the stone corridor stretched its arms wide. Beyond the small steps that lead into the bowls of the dark unknown, a cold, frightful wind began to flow, swirling, howling; crying out to him as it wrapped him within its numbing embrace. Into the mouth of the abyss, he found himself walking.

As though to keep him away, the dying remains of old weeds reached up from cracks in the concrete like hands from the depths of a black hell; grabbing, pulling as his feet, seeking to keep him away from the nightmare that awaited in the shadows.

With every slow, cautious step down the long, silent alley way, his jagged shadow danced in terror against the brick skin of the old structure, twisting in displeasure as it faded slowly in and out of the dull red light, which frowned down upon him in melancholy. Like the mind of the dying man, his bruised, pale face passed between the light and the darkness.

I can’t believe this…am I the only one left?

The heavy wooden door opened quietly as he pressed against it. In his mind, a dark fear bean to grow, pushing hard against him as he stepped beyond the threshold of the seen and the known, fighting against his desire to find safety within the dead space of the long abandoned pub. Cries of danger fell upon deaf ears. Into the realm of shadows, he vanished.

Holding the broad sword in front of him, he slowly passed beyond the doorway, ready to kill anything that waited for him in the darkened corners. Not a moment of rest would exist, even in the confines of sanctuary. In his mind, a thousand thoughts all crashed into one another, creating a wreckage of distortion, as the adrenaline raced through his body. His hands trembled.

Beyond his dreary eyes, all that once held company had been abandoned, had been left to hold hands with the sorrowful shadows of loneliness and disarray, which moaned out to him as tears of unseen misery fell down into nothingness. He closed his eyes.

I can feel the sadness…the heavy sorrow of something long forgotten.

Under his heavy feet, the beams of wooden floor creaked and popped, waking lairs of dust up from their long slumber, as he moved past the old tables and chairs that slept in the calm comfort of death. Even after the soul has left and the flesh long gone, the bones of the dead still reach out for the living salvation. The angry dust irritated his lungs.

Nothing can exist here…

Though dried away, the scent of alcohol still flowed from the pores of the wood, still lingered, long after the bottles were forgotten and left to lie in shattered remains on the floor and bar, where once living people flocked to enjoy them.

Nothing but a corpse lay within the coffin of what was once a social haven. The souls that once gathered were now gone, lost somewhere in the void of time and death. No longer
Held in the warm glow of life, but lost inside the darkest winters of night, lost and crying out from suffering never before felt by the human soul.

“No place is safe.” He whispered to himself, as he laid the sword down on the bar. “Not even this place.”

There is nothing out there but death…it surrounds this place…and they are coming.

From beyond the windows, he could see the wind stiring in fear, as it sought to find a place to hide from the creeping things. The howling that crept through the gaps in the door filled his soul with a chilling numb that bled out through this tingling skin, as he stood in confusion.

“I will have to wait.” He said to himself as he sat behind the bar.” Maybe they won’t know I’m here.”

Tired from exhaustion, he gazed out, wondering in his mind, if the void would find him; Wondering what fate would be his. Would he find the stregnth to survive or would he become to weak to fight of the slithering death which stalked him. He soon drifted off.

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