The Sun Will Set For You 'We're only taking turns, holding this world,More Like This
it's how it's always been, when you're older you will understand'
- The Fray.
'And the hardest part was letting go not taking part,
you really broke my heart'
'There's no light in the hall, there's no sound here at all,
emptiness, emptiness rules'
My suitcases wait by the apartment door. I’m almost ready to leave. Almost. There is no way I can stay here any longer. Th
Thoughts of a WitchI lie huddled in the corner of my dungeon cell. It is dark, it is cold; the air is moist and stinks. Pale light pours though a small barred window. I am alone. The straw on the floor stabs into my naked feet. The dirty sackcloth robe scratches at my bloody, abused and bruised skin. Everything hurts and throbs with numb pain. I know I will die soon.More Like This
I have confessed under the torture. I knew that it would seal my fate, but I could not stand the pain any more. I shiver and tremble as the memories of the unspeakable things they had done to me come back: Their cold hands and fingers touching my body everywhere in search for the mark. As they did not find anything to prove my guilt, they had started to hurt me for a confession. They stab needles in my birthmarks, beat me with sticks and the whip. What followed was the torment on the rack, tearing and stretching my fragile body until I passed out from the pain. The chair with its sharp metal spikes, the screws that crushed my fingers and toe
FireIt had been the choking smoke that had woken him.More Like This
No alarm bells ringing, no automated dowsing of water.
He’d woken up, coughing and spluttering, to find his room thick with the acrid smog slowly creeping in from underneath his door.
There was a moment of confusion where he didn’t know what was going on, whether he was dreaming or just seeing things, until he tuned into the sound of crackling and spitting coming from all around him.
Despite the coughing, the sound and the smell, he didn’t want to believe what was happening. Surely the house, his home for the past twenty years, couldn’t be on fire.
But it was. And for some reason the smoke alarms hadn’t gone off, and the sprinklers, set in place to safeguard the old wooden building, weren’t functioning.
Knowing he couldn’t just sit there in bed, Isaac snatched his glasses up from his bedside table and jammed them onto his face, bringing the smoke around him into focus. Though, given the density,
Painful Prices ‘How long has it been now?’More Like This
Patience slid out of her feeble grasp long ago; whether she had a care for it or not as she fumbled with the paintbrush in her delicate hands. Each bristle fought their way past the thick veil of mauve chains, selfishly burdening the floor of which she painted to be rid of their binder.
Beyond these cocooned walls, her strength is desired by the greed resting in the soldiers of those battling in this never-ending war.
‘How long has it been now? A week? A month? Not in your dreams, dear child’
Heavy blankets are made out of the thick strings that entwine themselves as soon as they leave the wombs of shattered veins; draping over her left arm as pain begs her to save herself.
Yet even as the bloodstained pages flitter around the room, she continues.
‘What do you want to achieve from this? You’ve wasted enough time’
“Shut up, just shut up.”
Evening of May 6thEvening of May 6thMore Like This
That night, the wind was high
Higher than anyone had known
It shook the dwellings all around
And left rubble where it had blown
It howled like rabid dog
It made everyone run indoors
Or climb o'er the refuse it had strewn
Yet I lay silent in my room
I listened to the wind
It carried my soul aloft
And washed clean my mind
Suddenly I was no longer where I lay
It seemed that I was many miles away
I had left that crowd behind
An hour seemed to pass before
I awoke, lying on my bed
My eyes closed, my ears blocked
Not one heavy thought was in my head
Now I sit to write these lines
Yet my soul seems to lag behind
---Am I still alive, or dead?
They Shall BeThey Shall BeMore Like This
Linking in the Dark
"The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, the Old Ones shall be."
There was a time, long long ago,
Long before any one of us was born
The earth was young, the earth was new,
And the Ancient Kings sat on their thrones
Among them was Great Cthulhu
He ruled the sea
Now the world may revert to then
The Old Ones shall be
They shall be.....!
Before the flood, stood Atlantis and Mu
The great Old Ones ruled for one thousand years
The world was stranger than anyone knew
It was covered almost totally by sea
Among them was GReat Cthulhu
He was then; he shall be.
The Old Ones shall be
They shall be...!
"The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, the Old Ones shall be."
They shall be!
PREY NO MOREPREY NO MOREMore Like This
Rope dug into Patrick’s wrists as he struggled to free his hands. His hot, damp breath washed over his face, trapped by the fabric sack secured over his head.
A floorboard creaked. Patrick froze, his back rigid against the chair, and strained his ears. Another creak.
“Hello?” he called.
The sound of swishing fabric.
“Who’s there? Where am I? Why’d you bring me here?” Blurred memories swam through his mind: drinking at the bar; stumbling home; a shadow sweeping out from an alley.
Fingers grasped his chin and jerked his head upward. “Hush.” A woman’s voice.
The pressure released and Patrick clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring. He heard the strike of a match and a blown breath. The smell of acrid smoke filtered through the hood. The hand returned, grabbing his head and ripping the hood off, taking a fistful of hair with it. Candlelight flickered from a table beside him. He looked at the woman, but
My Name is ZannMy Name is ZannMore Like This
From "The Music of Eric Zann"" by Lovecraft
Let me introduce myself. My name is Zann. Eric Zann. My occupation is musician. Lately i have discovered a rare and unique scale of chords. Now i am process of adapting this scale for several instruments, particularly the piano and the violin. Just now, i cannot tell exactly what will develop from their application. I can only say "wait and see."
These chords lend themselves very suitably for the piano. Recently a fellow musician has shown keen interest in the chords. His name is Pfaff1
. He has lent use of his piano. However, suddenly that became his last recital. Upon conclusion of the performance, Pfaff went utterly starkers and i had to summon an ambulance to send him to the nearest hospital. Poor fellow.
1. Professor Pfaff's Last Recital, by Edgar Allen Poe
MaskedIn youth, a mask I did createMore Like This
To hide away my tears and pain,
And though no difference it would’ve made,
I’ll play along with this torturous game.
And when the world would sigh and ask,
I’d retreat to the never-ending masque
To find the perfect words to say
As my aching heart would beg and pray
Behind the mask I could be a bird
Although my songs are left unheard
And when your words become a deafening sound,
The sky and I will end up unbound
In youth, a mask I did create
To hide away my tears and pain
But when the mask is tossed away…
“My shattered heart can no longer break!”
In youth, a mask I did create...
To pretend there was a reason nobody came
To save me from this endless hell
The differences between us I cannot tell.
The hell hidden within my mind
Screams each and every time
You lie to me, you just pretend
It kills me oh when will it end?
I'm waiting for the day I can no longer wait
For death to take my life away
Because I've had enough of thi
The Beast at the End of the HallwayMore Like This
We wander the halls in the dark of night, unable to face anyone after The Incident. Here,there is no one to speak to, no one to try to comfort us with empty condolences.
One night, we stumble upon an unfamiliar corridor. At the end of the short hallway, a beast stands, staring at us. He sneers, a cold gleam dully shining in his empty eyes. Broken is the best word to describe him, we think to ourselves. His face, probably once handsome, looks hollow and gray. More than anything else, he seems as frightened of us as we are of him. He snarls and backs away from us, an unsuppressed hatred evident in his stiff movements. We can't help but feel pity for this pathetic thing.
As we turn away, intending to return to our chambers, the beast does a strange thing. He mimics us. We pause, looking back. He pauses. We inch forward, ready for him to bolt, but he doesn't. After an excruciating moment, we get close enough to see the curiosity and wariness in his eyes.
And the gleam of moonlight on glass