Halloween

Two hands clasp limply around midnight

Twelve long forlorn cries

Somewhere above

In his study

A man screams

Welcoming Halloween

 

Another stands alone in his bathroom

Hands bloody and horribly raw

Beneath in the sink sit numerous teeth

This is terrible and yet

He sees something far more horrid

He screams “IT HURTS”

 

Clutching his curtain

A different man stares sidelong

Out at the horrible thing

Standing in his lawn

Airraid siren blaring

It has begun

 

In another home some miles away

The floor creaks

Yet no one is home

And deep below someone screams

Fingers enmeshed around their chest

Probing their throat curiously

 

A woman stands in a crowd

Surrounded by strangers

Clutching her face

Eyes wild with terror

And screams in protest

“THE EYES! YOU SEE THEM! I SEE! I SEE YOU!”

 

It is still early and a young child is awake

Staring at the vent in his room

Listening for the telltale scrabbling

Of those that make them hollow

The vent shakes

He closes his eyes and begins to cry

 

The Jester calls his rebellious crowd

Prepared and ready to raise a ruckus

Their new beginning

Blade in hand

And smile wide

He turns to the lightened sky

 

Deep beneath

Somewhere secret

A bed breathes

And the man breathes too

A few behind a oneway mirror

Scribble a note or two

 

A businessman lies awake

In his hospital bed

Tears streaming down face

As he remembers

Everytime he has died

On that fateful street

 

On the outskirts

A woman tills her garden

As sun greets so lovingly

She brushes brow

Bent low and smiling

At all the faces she sees below

 

Only ten miles from here

In a sanctuary for those mentally disturbed

A man, his face bandaged tight

Screams muffled anger

At passing nurses

“I. WEAR. NO. MASK.”

 

Back in the suburbs a boy left a box

Yet as the door closed

A hand crept out

Black and crooked

Grasped the edge

And pulled as the box collapsed within

 

A vessel long from now

And far away

Turns slowly in void

Directionless

Distress transmitted

Awaiting rescue

 

Back below in a cabin alone

A man screams at the walls

Fists full of dirt

And beating his flesh

He cries simply

“THE EARTH IS DEAD!”

 

Two dance in the depths

Below crashing waves

The woman couldn’t be happier

The man’s face aghast

And twisted in terror

Is all the joy she ever wanted

 

Yet another time

Another place

Something walks in the dark

Listening waiting

And all too hungry

It hears a soft creak

 

Awake and yet not

A man eyes antiques

Something within

Is evil and cruel

Waiting to jump out

In surprise

 

Something similar haunts fever dreams

A man has unfortunately found out

He paws at his face

Disbelieving and afraid

His reflection laughs

In mocking pantomime

 

His

Heart

Is

Not

A

Home

 

In a land that is strange

A stranger is screaming

Holding tight upon the ropes

Try as he might

He cannot stop

The rise of those terrible gods

 

Rusted wire sits coated in blood

The body wasting away

Now it is cut

And taken away

And in the distance

We hear pigs squealing

 

A woman had extracted

Some weeks before

Something small and awful

Flour dusting doorway

She awakens each morning

To find yet more tracks

 

This monster sits

Smiling gladly

At the feast laid out before him

Mask porcine and old

He cries for yet more

And here comes the next bit

 

Mere doors down from the man with no mask

Another cries in anguish

His body is dead

He’s trapped within

And all the doctors

Call madness

 

As chaos consumes

And the tempest draws nearer

A man welcomes it in

He’s drawn all the signs

and he opens their door

And embraces the slithering thing

 

Trapped in memory

A fortress of his own

This man weeps for love

She is long gone

And yet he chooses

To live it again and again

 

One more ritual as the night draws to a close

The corpse is already hung

A man fed Lies Slowly Dies

He screams at the sight

Of that horrible face

And the Lord of Flies calls for his heart

 

As I type and click away

I spy something amidst the trees

It moves

And sways

As all the others

Yet a swear I spy a face

 

Lastly the man

Who fed Him all his loved ones

Giggles away with his pigs

He’s not sure just what he’s done

But he’s sure he’s had fun

And he can’t wait for next year

Horns

I was thrown to the ground

Beneath their blasphemous altar

Hundreds of candles haphazardly arranged

Their feeble light barely reaching

Only able to illuminate the surface they stood on

A rough hewn trunk of some massive tree

A book stood open pages yellowed with age

And upon the page were the words “Ritus de Obscura Luna.”

Someone took my hand and I felt a burning sting

They had cut me with something

They forced my hand over the altar

Then suddenly the candles went out

Despite the lack of light

Even from the moon

We could see

As if the altar itself effused some otherworldly light

Above where it had been hidden

Hung the torso of a man

No arms nor legs nor head

And suddenly as I watched

The body began to contort

Something sprouted from the arms

Long and curved

Two horns grew impossibly from this body

Then a seam tore along the bottom of the torso

Flesh tearing and separating

Within I could espy numerous blunt teeth

Then finally the chest tore upon either breast

And two eyes stood open

Burning fiery red as they stared down on me

“Now, his heart.”

Commanded this grotesque thing

And before it all went dark

I screamed for my God

For anyone to save me

They fell silent in return

And I died alone

Knowing only the cold cut of a blade

Ritual

Precision

That is what is required

Exact measurements

Perfect lines

Drawn in felt black pen

Exactly 1 inch wide

The angle of curve

Follows prescribed notes

I can feel it now

The approaching chaos

The tumult of the cosmos

Revolting against this

My most perfect rite

Still the door opens

The walls bent to hyperbolic oblivion

But what issues forth

Is all too much

Light

And sound

Sonorous booms

Gyrating pillars of flesh

Iridescent clouds of scarlet and violet

I feel a question encroach

“Your desire?”

I collapse to my knees

“Order…”

I mutter

There is a laugh

Like the tearing of time

A great sundering of sense

I then plucked my eyes

Straight from their sockets

But still the sound

Bore into my mind

Always to rebound

In my quiet moments

Then

The door closed

With a calamitous slam

And an exhalation

Of a now unseen behemothic beast

My plea

My desire

Had been rejected

The universe is chaos

It is disorder

And now I

Shall serve entropy

Answered

I stood at the edge

Overlooking the bay

Wind whipped me

As it had my love

I had called on the gods

I had begged

Pleaded

And the gods?

They were silent

My only recourse

My only relief

Those stones

And white foam waves below

 

I had walked from the town

Leaving Lucius to his trading

Wheeling and dealing

Trees so tall

They must scrape the sky

Leaving those vaporous trails behind

All around me they spoke

Wind whispering something quiet

I listened

 

My toes felt the edge

Tested the balance

The feel of the stone

 

I followed a path

Beat low by many feet

But I felt drawn beside

 

I lifted my arms

“What now?

What say you?!”

The silence was deafening

 

A shout so loud

And resonant it bounded

I ran to it

The distress too clear

 

I closed my eyes

Leaned forward

 

I leapt

Arms out

 

The world turned over

And felt the brush scratch at me

What had happened

I was not falling

I was tumbling

Who?

 

I held out my arm

Trying to break the fall

We hit a hill

And rolled roughly

 

We stopped

 

We opened our eyes

 

And he said

 

“Heya…

I’m Michael…

My friends call me Minos”

Preparations are Made

“The bastards’ll flay their prisoners

Then make ’em eat the flesh!”

Michael chittered

Hands working nervously

Over an arrow he was fitting

“Have you seen this

Or even had someone else

Who saw it directly?”

I smirked

Waxing my bow’s string

The bee’s wax coating nicely

“I killed three all on my own

Without any kind of fight.”

Yes the moment I started this

The moment I damned us

To the ministrations

Of those psychotic fanatics

“Well

Not as such I suppose…”

Michael lowered his head

“But you hear the screams

From atop the mountains

Whatever they’re doing

It’s hellish for sure.”

He nodded at this

To punctuate his point

I shrug and set my bow down

“You’ve a point I guess”

Those screams

Gods old and new

Whatever they’re doing

I hoped to never find out

I picked a bit of dried venison

From my tooth

Sighed and stood up

“Let me know

When the arrows are ready

I’m itching for some Kilkenny blood”

I walked from the cabin

Leaving Michael to his delicate

And precise work

Outside I saw a few riders

Astride their steeds

Noble visage of order

Appointed by our gods

Palos and Mineer

Twins of fire and ice

Their hide capes died in reds

Their bows, white and stark

I know as long as our gods watch

We shall not fail

If you enjoyed this make sure to read Amberley’s poem for today! read it here! Everyone is converging in her stories, so if you need to catch up make sure to read everything in our collections After the End~