Of the Five (Fetid Blood)

First I smelled it

Putrid festering

Then a sound

Clicking teeth snapping

And shhhffing feet dragging

Then I saw

Peeled lips

Lacking eyes

Slavering tongue

And sharpened fangs

Then it lunged

I felt its fangs

Sink, piercing flesh

Then a taste



Not my own

My whole body was warm


As it inj/fected me

With its blood

The featured image can be found here: https://twitter.com/jrgdrawing/status/1095578328180944896?s=21
It is what inspired this piece. Please consider following this artist as they are a fountain of fantastically morbid art.


One More for the Collection

A knife hissed through air

Inches from her face

“I always prefer those in their prime”

He mused softly

Eyes alight with something

It was red

And black

And full of hunger

“The skin of old people shreds like…

Wet paper”

His lip curled

As he pressed the edge

Of the cool steel blade

Against her cheek

Her eyes held something defiant

Brilliant and unwavering

Eagle soaring

Even so bound

And arms crossed

“I mean look at you

Skin so taught and tan

Ready for display

I’d say”

He turned and picked up a scalpel

Keen edge glimmering in candle light

“It’d make a fine prize…

But I think

I’d rather claim…

Your eyes”

Those eyes glared

Unafraid even in this

This horrible place

With such horrible words

He gripped her hair

And leaned in close

Blade edging closer


Closer to her eye

She kept them open though

And with a swift

And brutal movement

Yanked forward

And bit down upon his nose

Cartilage gave a sickening crunch

And the man screamed

Stabbing her shoulder with the little blade

But she held on

Eager for her prize

She twisted her head

And with a powerful tug

Came back with the majority

His face contained now

A bloody hole

Ragged and sputtering with air

He trembled as he grasped

And tried in vain

To staunch the flow

He stumbled back

With awkward gait

And collapsed upon the floor

She spat it out at him

Calmly she let go

Of the ropes

Which fell about her

In a loose coil

She stepped forward

And with a tug

Freed the scalpel from her shoulder

She knelt beside the man

Something sharp flickering in her smile

“Oh yes you’ll do nicely

Another monster

To add to my gallery…”

She growled low

Tracing the surgical steel

Ever so carefully

Around the curve of his chin

His eyes now filled


With fear

The Azure Forest

The door swung open


Before me lay a forest

Drenched in emerald

But fading to a deep blue

In little more than a few meters

As though the sun

Brilliant as it shone

Could only impress upon me

But this small section of sight

I walked and all of me was heavy

Like a dream torpidity I felt the drag

I opened my mouth to call

To search for another

Who tread these verdant paths

But nothing came out

I slowly turned my sight skyward

Then I saw it

Just below the treetops

A shimmering blanket of wave

Where danced the rays of sun

This forest was also a sea

I do not drown

And I know these paths well

Though I never walked them

And upon this path

Quite by chance

I found another

She took my hand

And I, hers

And together we forged ahead

Deeper down its winding paths

There was something familiar

Something familial in her touch

A lover long lost

But no memories to say so


I know her

And she knows me

And together

We forge a world

In the endless blue

Reason’s Flight

Families abandon us

The gibbering dregs

The delusional wretches


Sterile confines close in

Oh but the sun is bright

Oh but the moon does call


These jailers press upon us

A horrible sanity

A terribly clarity


We howl in protest

Bang upon the walls

Slam against the doors


Our delusions torment, yes

But still it is better

But still I fear it less


If any we pray for obscurity

We flee from reason

We reject reality

Canning Methods of Old

“It’s best to begin it fresh. Canning preserves but doesn’t reverse” She growls, scratching her too-loose neck, skin scabrous and inflamed.

“I mean look at these beauties!” She holds up a jar, with tight packed digits of varying tone. “Got them packed in only an hour, and now they’ll keep for nearly a year…”

She sets down the jar and thumbs the stump where my fingers once were. “Oh yes yours will be nice crunchy and strong. There’s nothing like the fingers of a talented pianist”

She grabs the pile ten dripping digits, and shoves them into a briny bottle.

My vision slides blurs to the side. My final sight is her closing the lid.

Where All Souls Tread

All is light

A white so clear

It hides shades of blue

And the caravan walks on

Limbo interstate

Going nowhere

No where here

Wasteland cold

Whipping up a vicious

Minatory haze

Slashing ribbons of us

Us sinners clutching desperate

To arms and legs

Skin on skin

Anything to fend off this chill

But still we walk

Feet plodding

Clay mire slow

For that distant shade

Saccharin darkness

Calling for us

Our desperate rest

But no rest for the wicked

We walk on


“Of course, hun

Everything will be fine…”

The last lie I told her

A loyal deception

Perpetrated from a place

Of warmth and love

Affection coating its edges

Hiding what lay beneath

The promise of loss

What loss inflicted

Infliction’s relief

No more waiting

The final end

I squeezed her hand

She sighed

And relaxed

The tears slipped down

Dropping dark pools on her dress

I was alone in a stark white nothing

Smelling of antiseptic and lemon

The silence she left behind

Bigger than the room

Engulfed those seconds

The moments before I let go

Of her already cooling hand