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Terror In The Night

Welcome to the darkness....

This area is a journey through the darker
regions of my imagination. Creatures foreboding
and ominous inhabit the dank recesses of
the twilight, so by all means...
watch your step and look behind you...

he he he...

To whet your appetite, read on...

Castle Dracula

An evil spire,
This castle black
Broods on a jagged height,
The home of one 
Count Dracula
Abode of corrupt might.

With Window empty
And portals shut
Oppression rules this place,
A desolate air
And graveyard scent.
Villagers pass in haste.

In halls defiled 
By blood and pain
Bright joy is drowned with tears,
Grim and grey
The ancient stone
Dashes all hope with fears.

The halls are trod
By spectral hosts,
Unseen, woefully real.
The spirits of victims
From ages past
Who did the Count's bite feel.

The kitchen is bare
Of food and drink,
For these there is no need.
For from bare necks
With razored teeth
The dark count nightly feeds.

Down elder steps
Blackened with use
A dismal passage leads,
Ending down deep
At dungeon's door
Where he drinks his foul meads.

The creaking door
On bolts of time
Releases the scent obscene,
Suffering and fear,
Blood, pain, undeath,
Makes one ever unclean.

On walls of damp
Cold shackles hang,
For the condemned they wait
To tightly clasp
The innocents
Who see their doom too late.

Anguish-filled cries,
Screams from long past
Silent echoes throughout
Hushed and yet sharp
Calling to us,
"RUN! MAKE HASTE AND GET OUT!"

An evil spire,
This castle black
Broods on a jagged height,
Watching us go
With hurried step.
We're easy prey tonight.





The Elevator

The office building, standing tall,
Seems safe as it can be.
But lurking here within this place
Is danger none can see.
The secretaries come and go,
Executives as well,
Unaware of an appetite
That's evil, dark and fell.
Chameleon of sorts, it is,
Seems innocent and plain.
The elevator waits to serve.
Inside there's not a stain.
By all appearances, it is
Simply means of transport,
But there are times when hunger moves
It to a deadly sport.
Look now, here comes a messenger
Who needs to reach Fifth Floor.
He presses 'UP' and steps right through 
The quickly opened door.

Deliberately the door slides shut,
The care begins to lift.
The evil thing wherein he rides
Begins its shape to shift.
Unseen by him the walls expose
Thousands of tiny teeth.
The lighting dims to eery red,
All movement has just ceased.
"What the heck? Aw, this is just great!
Stuck in between the floors!"
He vainly presses the alarm.
"Jeez, I could use a Coors..."
In the dim light, he cannot see
The walls begin to close
Until he utters screams of pain...
But no one can hear those.
The elevator reaches Fifth,
It's empty, clean and bright.
Ready to serve, its hunger gone.
Well, leastwise for tonight.

Write to me at:

ghostly70@hotmail.com


Beware of things that go bump in the night...

Ghost's Main Page: Run away while you still can..
The Dracula Series: Tales of the Dark Count....
The Werewolf Series: A mans' tortured soul is revealed...
Ordering Information: If you are interested in obtaining complete manuscripts...
Ghost's Miscellaneous Short Poems...: Variety is the spice of....life?
Ghosts' Longer poems...: Some of my more lengthy stories....