horror

The Plague's Maid

She split the world in twenty ways,

The day she stirred a deadly plague,

To rid the world of our sins.

 

Her mission plan was Out To Kill,

She claimed the lives of scum until

her illness broke from its chains.

 

Then her disease killed hoards for miles,

And she rejoiced Death for a while,

But then her mission backfired.

 

Her beauty died with countless young,

Her savage bloodlust reeked among

both the Hopeful and Damned.

 

Now the townsfolk live again,

Too scared to let that woman in,

So she waits until dark. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Based on the Scandinavian legend "Pesta" 

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Beware The Lady Mare

Beware the 'mare spectator,

who hurts you as you sleep.

She'll mould your dreams to nightmares

and cackle when you weep.

 

Beware the fear creator,

She'll crush your wracking chest.

She'll torture you 'til morning says

that Death is for the best.

 

Beware the dream invader,

When you yawn, retire with care.

With every nightmare, she creates

a knot within your hair. 

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Monster of a Man

My Mum was a barmaid and my brother was a clown

In a miserable dump of a mining town.

 

The harbour smelt like mould

and the houses looked like brothels

and the cats killed your dogs and the drunkards pissed in bottles.

 

My school was a dump

and the children picked on me

and the ceiling had a leak

and the teacher had no teeth.

 

But I didn't attend for long,

and I wasn't exactly sad

but my mother needed help

 because my brother had gone mad.

You see, my brother was a clown

In a shitty little circus

Which was paradise for prostitutes,

for drunkards and for perverts.

 

Plus, my brother a good clown,

but others were pretty crap

so the Circus lost their customers

and that was the end of that.

 

So my dearest older brother

lost his job and joined my mum,

serving ale to vulgar lowlifes,

taking money from the Scum.

 

Despite all this, there was no money

nor was there food upon our plates

So Mum told me "Nell, you're twelve now,

so you should start pulling your weight."

 

I didn't want to do this,

But I really had no choice,

And the Lord Mayor offered me a job

In a most remarkable place.

 

My job was very dangerous and I'm sure it was a crime,

to send a little girl into The Lilac Mine.

 

The Mine was cold and slippery,

not to mention rather dark,

But I had to hold the lanterns,

for the Miners' while they worked.

 

And you might call me crazy,

But I know what I heard,

A gypsy band was singing

Which I know sounds quite absurd,

 

So I tried not to dwell on it,

Because I had to work,

But I was sure that I'd heard songs

Similar to those before...

 

One night, I hid behind a pile

of coal and waited 'til

all the Miners had gone home

and I was sat in the darkness still.

 

I ventured down the darkest parts

of the Lilac Mine,

I could hear the songs and smell the scents

of meat and scotch and wine.

 

This is where my life began to disintegrate to dust,

I don't wish to continue, but really I must.

 

At the bottom of the mine, I found

A cold, colossal cave

Inhabited by people who looked like

A mauve parade.

 

Dozens upon dozens of them jumping around and whooping,

purple clothes and purple hair

They saw me and started smiling.

 

"Join us, little blonde girl,

come and eat some human scraps,

Boiled leg or skewered neck?

Perhaps some belly fat?"

 

I stupidly joined them for dinner,

which was absolutely strange,

for we were eating human brains

and the Purples were deranged.

 

The leader was a sprightly man,

They called him Olly Plum.

He sang the songs and played guitar

and was loved by everyone.

 

The others were his brothers

and his multitude of wives,

but his daughter Violet reminded me

of an old friend of mine.

 

One summer, when I was seven,

I knew a girl called Sally.

We were close companions

'til they found her dead in an alley.

 

The thing about Violet was

not that she was kind,

although she was, and funny and crazy,

but she acted like a child.

 

She danced when her father sang,

and her brothers played the drums,

Her family adored her,

but none more than Olly Plum.

 

Although I loved their music,

I was a little scared.

What if they wanted to eat me?

Oh well. No-one would have cared.

 

I sang with them until Midnight,

by which time I was very tired

I'd hoped my Mum would be sleeping,

but she was waiting by the fire.

 

"Where the hell have you been?!

I've been worried sick!"

"I'm sorry Mum, I just got lost,

took a wrong turn into a ditch!"

 

"That'll explain the state of you. Off you go to bed!

Be sure to come home early tomorrow or trust me, you'll be dead!"

 

I knew my Mum was angry,

but I couldn't have cared less,

because I knew the Purples

would have caused me less distress.

 

I decided I would live with them,

and play their music too.

In hindsight, it was stupid and I'm sure

You think it was too.

 

I went to work and returned to the cave

on the day I turned Thirteen.

I asked to join their band

and Violet gave me a tambourine.

 

"We'll be just like sisters," she whispered to me that night.

But as she came close, I saw in her eyes, something which gave me a fright.

 

The Purples' eye were purple too!

And that's what made me scared.

If I stayed here and my eyes turned mauve,

would my vision be impaired?

 

Apparently not. You see, I asked

 Olly Plum, who said,

that the colour of their eyes

was nought to do with their homestead.

 

"Purple" was a curse of hate,

the townsfolk were to blame.

They chased them into The Lilac Mine

to the Purples' utter shame.

 

"Why Purple, though?" I asked him.

And he answered: it's what becomes

of us people, who are pelted with

the stones and pulp of plums!

 

I took his word for gospel,

and lived happily with his crew...

But one day, I saw in my reflection

that my eyes were purple too!

 

"What is this?!" I cried. "What's happened to me?

I've caught the Purple Curse!"

"Relax," said Violet, "Your eyes are purple,

your life could be much worse!"

 

She couldn't have been more right, you see,

For things began to change.

We'd eaten lots of townsfolk,

so the Mayor had a Search arranged!

 

One night at eleven,

Us Purples tried to be quiet,

but one person who could not sit still

was my darling Best Friend, Violet.

 

She stood up and danced and we begged her to stop

But her feet and arms kept going.

Then, the search party found us all

And the next moment: we were screaming.

 

The Townsfolk were ruthless and hit the Purples'

on their heads.

I begged a Gentleman to stop,

but he arrested me instead!

 

My brother Clown, restored to sanity

Bought me from my cell.

I was relieved, but then he told me

that the Purples were condemned to hell.

 

At their execution, The Magistrate roared:

"These cannibals now shall  hang!"

 But I screamed and I cried and I yelled at him:

"YOU MONSTER OF A MAN!"

 

The first to meet the gallows

Was my darling Violet, who smiled.

"Don't worry, dear Nell. We're both going to hell,

so we'll only be apart for a while!"

 

The rope met her neck and the townsfolk rejoiced

that this monster would soon be dead.

A masked man pulled the leaver and the whole world could hear

the "snap" which had broken her neck.

 

I live with my mother, and whenever she hits me

I can hear poor Violet's neck snap.

They have closed Lilac Mine, but whenever I see it,

Part of me wants to go back...

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Reviews are most welcome!

Zoth-Ommog

Folder: 
Poetry

Zoth-Ommog 

 

A cone-shaped body with a lizard-like head,
That is what Zoth-Ommog is.
Thick serpent-like tentacles
Growing from its head.

 

Pseudopods resemble starfish arms,
One on each side of the swarms.
Buried underneath the Pacific;
In R'lyeh: the corpse-city.

 

Deep Ones worship Zoth-Ommog,
Manifesting through many statues
Scattered randomly around the world.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about the god Zoth-Ommog.

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Devil's Gate

Folder: 
Devil's Gate

Beneath hell bridge
The tunnel draws you in
By catacomb echoes
To the woods amidst the howls
The stream flows to Belial's face
There, the doorway awaits...

Hooded shadows move in the darkness
Within the forest deep below
'Neath the moon, a silver rictus
Flames aflicker in their hands
The Bridge To Hell has brought you here...

By the gaze of The Demon
Incantations, glowing symbols
Black Altar set before The Gate
Trapezoid traced in the air
Magic thick withIn this place
Much too much for most to bear
She faints into the chair...

An iron gate between two torches
A pyramid points to Hell
The Consort & The Beast enthroned
Invoking energy, surrounding force
Moonchild come to be
A scarlet portal of the flesh
Scarlet Daemon Goddess, Lilith
The Daemonseed possessed...

The earth trembles, 'something' stirs within
By this Sorcery triumphant
The stone face seems to move in place
The Portal shifts & churns
Can you hear the breathing?
The Eye opens, The Gate parts
Black Shadow in the night...
Encircles, suspended 'time'
The air is heavy with evil sensation

"Something" came through...
Within Me, within you...

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Bridge To Hell

Folder: 
Devil's Gate

On the dark horizon
At dusk the sun descends into The Abyss
Blackened with the flames of Hell
Satan spreads His wings of night
Coursing across the Black Earth
On road of triple six
Leads to a bridge between the worlds...

The Bridge To Hell is calling...

Grim Reaper is your guide
Voices on the wind
Calling your name into the fog
Breathe in The Demon's breath
Empowered or consumed...

The Bridge To Hell is calling...

Another sacrifice
Plunges into The Pit
Headlong into the black
Mesmerizing spectral lights
Casts a ghostly pallor
Compelling... impelling...
Now there's no turning back
Will you make it to The Other Side?

December 13, 1913
A monster was erected
With legs of iron and steel
Body of stone
Then the blood began to flow
In throes of lamentation
Broken flesh and bone
Taken by the land...

The Bridge To Hell...
It breathes...
The Bridge To Hell...
It feeds...

Who is that by the side of the road?
In Death's embrace?
Forever gone, but yet returned
Haunting The Night eternal
Where they met their fate
Did you see your face?
Down beneath the archways
The wilderness below
At Devil's Gate...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The hauntingly beautiful bridge is infamous for a continuing series of suicides since its birth in 1913, but it was after this rite that numbers multiplied dramatically, as if the area was somehow more so drawing those so inclined, and perhaps not so much so, towards their doom. It has been postulated that these, along with the disappearances, may be "sacrifices" to feed the dark forces released on the day of the ritual.

It is said that the very archways of this veritable "Hell Bridge", particularly that framing Devil's Gate, may serve as an entryway for nefarious energies.

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The Watcher

Folder: 
Horror

I often wonder what shambles
Just beyond unopened doors
What hidden marvel ambles
Upon dark and unseen floors
When the thresholds seal is broken
And flooding light pours in
What ghosts of words unspoken
Are drowned within the din
I find my mind goes drifting
I gaze long and lose much time
For my spirit is in need of lifting
By the world which hides behind
It must seem odd how long I stare
More so that I barely blink
But to me this is a prayer
That I should one day cross the brink
So I watch shadow darkened doorways
To the silence I bend my ear
For a creak or crack I dearly gaze
And I long so much to hear
Yes, the opening will come one day
The barrier be breached
I will crawl into the outer plane
Like a loathsome hungry leech

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If I can't have you, nobody can

You rejected the wrong man.
If I can't have you, nobody can.
That bullet proof vest won't protect your head.
When I pull the trigger, you're as good as dead.

Very soon you'll no longer be walking.
I give new meaning to the word stalking.
This gun of mine is as loud as thunder.
I won't be happy until you're six feet under.

I just shot you in the face and you hit the floor.
When it comes to men, you won't reject anymore.
I'm going to haul your corpse to the river in my van.
If I can't have you, nobody can.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a fictional poem. In real life, I believe that violence is a terrible thing.

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Terror be the Night

The things that sleep
within the dark
within rotted walls
beneath putrid tin
beneath children's beds

the darkest visage
stalks and schemes
beneath the frame
of unwary child.

Far past midnight's veil
shadows creep
through their static kin
and climb the post
with deadly stride.

prowling high upon the board
till sinister decent
of lightless skin
that creeps upon the sheets
and into the ears of sleeping child

blind the brain
with poison shadows
the rend the mind
and infect the soul.

the nightmare child
to be taken from sweetness
to be torn from innocence
squeaking and crying
struggling and thrashing
beneath the cover 'whilst dark demons
do their deeds.

And tendril reached forth
and took hold of the mind
and burrowed into its crevices
in search of the evil
that lay within.

His pains are few
his evils fewer
but they lay deep below
with the wolves within.

So forth called
these dogs of hell
so vicious
and deceit
and anger
spread forth from the mind.

Like armies they spread
the dreams ever worse
no story so frightful
no dirge so painful
as the night mares of children.

Though through the night
the day must come
and the shadows must break
and recede.

though the dreams will leave
the memory remains
every night to bring next horror
the dark to be feared.

Childhood no more
innocence be gone
only darkness remains
the shadow of the phantom's name;
Malum noxus.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a rough draft I was too tired to proof.

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