Get Home

I waited in the car

AM murmuring quietly

Outside the grocery

My friend was taking awhile

I felt like I’d never get home

The digital display buzzed

Its electronics going bad

And slipped over to the next minute

My eyes losing focus

Fuzzy edges blurring

Something moves

On top the grocer

Sight snapped quick

A dome of ivory white

Amber in the streetlight

Fingers massive and boney

Skin stretched thin over joints

Bloody eyes lidless and angry

Glared down at my car

I felt like I’d never get home

World Crafting

I will work

Meticulously

Obsessively

Ceaselessly

 

Crafting every man

Woman and child

A world in a page

 

Their hopes

Their dreams

Their fears

Their deeds

 

Rolling hills

Sparkling rivers

Gleaming peaks

 

All flora

All fauna

All rocks

All seas

 

A perfect world

And beautiful people

 

Yet

 

Something is missing

 

Some pain

Yes and strife

Death on wings unseen

 

More woes

More loss

More tears

More sobs

 

Yes now it’s real

A touch more war

A bit more anger

 

Less laughs

Less love

Less light

Less hope

 

Look upon my works

Ye readers

And despair

 

I am the villain

Ultimate antagonist

End of all stories

Author

The King’s Maze

Miles of stonework sprawled before him

The King’s Maze was king Azmodius’ masterpiece

Though for those few who found its center

They found the king had something to hide

Something so terrible it had to be contained within this structure

Our hero rested his hand on the arch of the entrance

A chill ran up his spine at the cool touch

Something in its simple stonework

Whispered terror into his soul

With a step he crossed the threshold

Left hand trailing along the wall

He would find what hid within

And expose Azmodius for the devil that he was

Our hero felt the air cool, breath fogging

The world twisted rolling onto its side

He lost all sense of up or down

And soon fell upon his knees

As he raised his head

Something had changed

The stone was different, alternating

Path inlaid with dull metal

He stood unsteadily and placed his right hand upon the wall

Slowly he began to walk again

Footsteps echoed in a rapid cascade beyond and behind him

Louder until they seemed not to be his

Something followed far behind him

Thunderous hooves stampeding

He cried in horror as he turned about

Arms raised across his face

The cry thundered in crashing resonance

But soon all fell silent

He lowered his arms

And found it changed again

The stones stacked in intricate swirls

The path, metal and wood shaped intricacies

All of which depicted a phantasmagoria

A crown enwrapped in hands and swirling smoke

People clutching faces, screams issued from twisted shock

He trembled as he wrapped his arms around himself

Seeking warmth of some kind

The air was so cold here

He walked awhile more, the cold slicing through him

Soon his eyes grew heavy as an unknown warmth encircled him

Collapsing against the wall

He lay for but a moment before his eyes flew open

Again it had changed

The stone a fantastical design inset with gems of all colors

Upon the floor the design had changed once more

The crown now was grasped by twirling tentacles of purple and black

Eldritch things tearing off the flesh of their own faces

But he was finally warm

So warm

Somewhere far ahead something began to beat

A thumping low and ponderous

He did not hesitate

This was what he had sought

He was sure of it

As he turned a corner something occurred to him

He had not turned a single corner before this

Only ever curving walls obliterating at the horizon

This thought was swept away as the center came into view

Red light flooded his senses

Cinnamon and blood

The sound shaking his bones

The sight of all that was hidden

The flesh

The words

The steel

Left him tasting something acrid

And fearful

There was no escaping

He knew this

The truth here would die with him

And that death would come swiftly

On wings of silk and skin

The thumping beating its sky-long span

The claws descended

Water

He awoke with a groan

Eyes watery swimming roll

Unfocused blue of grey and glum

He sees a wall focus first

Brown and dusty

A leak has slipped through

Between beams down the wall

No something is wrong

The water is running up…

His head lolls to the side

Realizing he is upside down

Feet bound to a rope far above

He tilts his head back

Looking up… down

A hatch is open and looks down

Down into a briny churning mess

The water below, a roaring beast

The man curses softly

Behind him a voice scratches

Like cutlery on porcelain

“Fed. We gotta keep ’em…”

He clears his throat

“You understand I’m sure…”

A loud metallic snap and he is dropped

The water enwrapping him in a moment

First Time on the Job

We army crawled

Belly to ground

Elbows for leverage

“Yeah there’s all sortsa critters

What would live under houses.”

He grunts behind me

Dragging a bag of tools

“But most are gonna run

At just the sight of a person.”

I’m huffing and groaning

Stopping to wipe my face a moment

“Possums, cats, raccoons

Y’know the sort I’m sure.”

I freeze as I see something

Illuminated before me

“What do’y suppose that is?”

I whisper as I track its length

Beam showing foot after foot

Of white

Almost luminous

Sinewy flesh

Pulsing and gyrating

Slowly

Slowly

Nostalgia

Gently he opens the case

“Thin Places” he reads aloud

Removing the disc within

He eyes the scratched surface

Reflective rainbow glistening

With greatest care places within console

Tray whirs closed with a click

He holds his breath

Disc spins to life

A moment of nothing

Then the splash screen

It has loaded

A sigh of relief

The screen transitions

A pulsating mess of reddish hues

Throbbing low bass crawls from speakers

The console growls low thumping softly

Steadily

Rhythmically

TV bulges at its edges

Red glistening flesh peaking through

He picks up a controller grinning eagerly

Something thin and sinuous wraps around his thumbs

“Best game…”

His voice comes

Unbidden from the TV’s crackling speakers

Gorehound

Cross handle

Sharpened hook

Dragging flesh

He grunts as he arrives

Resting hand against Ash tree

Swings wound rope

Up and over limb

Dragging slowly

But surely

Carcass raises

Flies swarm

Irritated at shifting

Once in position

The man ties down to the trunk

Wind howls between the trees

Something else joins in howling

He eyes the distance about him

Adjusting the hook in his hand

The sun is still up

He had time to get home

What is Worse

What’s worse?

To know

That someone was living in the walls

Or find

That someone is dying in your halls

To feel

Your skin crawling like a beast

Or see

Your flesh, alive and hungry for the feast

.

I feel so overwhelmed

Distracted

By all this hell I’ve created

But I can’t help but feel happy

No longer slow and sappy

.

What’s worse

To find

The bitter taste of copper in your mouth

Or See

Her blood is splattered all around

To hear

Your loved ones crying for your help

Or watch

Your legs walk away all by themselves

.

I feel such satisfaction

By all of my abstractions

Horror is made reality

These terrors in their nascency