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Some of my longer stories...

The door before you opens on creaking hinges, 
revealing a deserted, dust-covered library...

On the shelves before you are weighty tomes
of ancient tales...a shiver of apprehension
runs up your spine as you notice the lit candle
before you...

It is obvious that some power has brought you to
this library for a dark purpose. With resolve, you 
take up the nearest crumbling book and carefully
begin to turn the pages....


  • Hunger From The Pit A Singular Experience

  • The Hunger From The Pit
    
    Beneath a brooding sky
    In Rhode Island state
    Sits the town Epiphany
    Where dread darkness waits.
    A town of fearful past,
    "The Arcane Arts" housed there.
    And things unnamed by most
     Are shown in pages bare.
    Through ages come and gone
    Dark forces here have dwelt,
    Whose sight would drive men mad,
    Cause sanity to melt.
    In hills dark conclaves meet,
    To Chiaroscuro call.
    The things from ages past
    Were rulers over all.
    Terrors in this place
    In shadows creep and hide,
    Their blasphemous repast
    Staves off a lethal tide.
    For if their hunger grew
    Unsatisfied for long,
    The world would see a rush
    From an unholy throng. 
    
    Into this fateful place
    There comes a battered car
    Bearing three good friends.
    They've traveled here from far.
    It's "Spinster's Grove College"
    They have come here to attend,
    The college of the town.
    Dark studies they will tend.
    Deep they delve in folklore,
    For mankind's myths they look.
    Their studies bring them here,
    To see that evil book.
    Penned by a man unknown,
    Who is long dead and gone,
    It's secrets dark and dire,
    Men should not look upon.
    For now, they know not fear,
    Their worldly wisdom rules.
    "The spirit world has
    Been made up by great fool's!"
    But soon the time will come,
    Their hearts with fear will freeze.
    Black nameless dread will rise
    Like an unclean disease!
    
    The names of these three men,
    Are Frank and Bill and Todd.
    They study the macabre
    And legends that are odd.
    They're in search of a place
    In the Grove where they'll stay,
    A house with solitude
    Where people keep away.
    They stop for lunch in town,
    And while they eat their meal
    They learn of an old house
    Which sounds like a good deal.
    "The old house in the hills
    Is cursed", the waitress shares,
    "Although the rent is low,
    Stay someplace else!" She cares.
    "Cursed! How quaint." They agree
    They'll seek this house today.
    Amused at such foolishness,
    They now know where they'll stay.
    As they the cafe' leave
    The waitress wears a look
    Of fear for foolish men
    And for the path they took.
    
    They rent the lonely house
    From an amazed old man,
    Who shakes his head at them,
    "Change your mind while you can."
    The three now make their way
    Unto their new abode.
    A sense of unrest falls
     As they head up the road.
    Although the sun is high
    The woods seem strangely drear,
    They feel they're being watched
    By something that's quite near.
    In spite of logic strong
    And worldliness of mind,
    Each feels an eerie pull.
    Good humor's hard to find.
    At last they reach the house,
    And oh, the sight of it!
    Foreboding and so dark,
    As if there devil's sit.
    Its windows blackly stare
    With black unseeing eyes
    Which seems to pierce their souls,
    And cause dark fears to rise.
    
    The landscape here is bleak,
    A blighted, gnarled sight
    Which even at full day
    Makes one think of midnight.
    With effort strong and deep
    Frank says (with humor forced),
    "How odd this country seems.
    The mood it gives, the worst!"
    His levity, though false
    Still serves to reassure,
    And break the morbid spell
    Of evil, dark and pure. 
    They all three laugh aloud
    And banish thoughts disturbed.
    They unpack all their things,
    For now their fears are curbed.
    And yet unconscious thoughts
    Feel still an unseen threat
    Despite strong logic used,
    They still are not safe yet.
    As darkness gains a hold
    Outside, cold grows within
    Which grips the heart like steel,
    And pierces their thick skin.
    
    The night is black and cold
    As all three soundly sleep.
    In evil dreams they run
    From things that slide and creep.
    Outside in full darkness
    The woods are grimly still.
    There waits a blasphemy,
    A thing of wicked will.
    Unheard by sleepers all
    Are sounds that chill the heart,
    A slimy slithering,
    Which makes our courage part.
    The voice, so guttural
    Bears tones quite ominous
    Towards the sleepers yon,
    Made all too clear to us.
    Of other worlds it is,
    So alien a voice
    That we, too, fear for them.
    For their rash unwise choice.
    And now the night is o'er,
    The light's in yonder sky.
    The thing will bide it's time,
    They've long enough to die.
    
    At Spinster's Grove College
    They are in study deep
    Over the "Arcane Arts",
    In ancient verses steep.
    The things the madman penned
    Are loathsome, dark and fell.
    The words they churn and twist,
    Of evil spells they tell.
    And pictures are shown there
    Of things that shun the light.
    That creep and slither so,
    In evil they delight.
    Although the three have read
    Of many myths and tales,
    Of gods and demons too
    Comparison here pales.
    The things that they now read
    Does skepticism kill,
    They cannot but believe
    Down deep, against their will.
    And yet their outward show,
    Facade of unbelief,
    Is fixed upon their brows.
    It surely will bring grief.
    
    At night they sit and talk
    Of all that they have read,
    Of things both dark and dire
    Believing words are said.
    "I like it not a bit,"
    Says Todd, his face is pale,
    The things I read today
    Makes all my flesh feel frail."
    Bill nods his head, agrees,
    "I know, I've goosebumps now.
    I feel these things are real,
    Though I just can't say how."
    Frank, standing near at hand
    Now voices his support
    For views his friends have shared,
    With not a one retort.
    "My thoughts are yet oppressed
    With what we all have seen.
    To know such things exist,
    On logic we can't lean."
    Bill says, "I left my notes
    Outside. I'll be right back."
    He goes to fetch his notes,
    His scream takes them aback!
    
    The scene that meets their eyes
    As Frank and Todd run out
    Makes their blood run frigid,
    Disaster's struck, no doubt!
    The car door's standing wide
    With papers all askew,
    And Bill is lying there.
    His lips are turning blue.
    But worst of all by far,
    The look upon his face.
    Some ultimate horror
    Has left a fateful trace.
    His features, fixed and stiff
    In terror widely stare,
    Stark fear within his eyes
    Shines bright it's wicked glare.
    "He's still alive!" Frank shouts
    As he and Todd lift Bill
    And take him back inside,
    So ominously still.
    "What could have scared him so?"
    Todd wonders fearfully.
    They put him in his bed
    And nurse him anxiously.
    
    The doctor's come and gone,
    There's nothing he could do.
    "We can just let him rest,
    He may himself renew."
    Now Frank and Todd discuss
    The plight that they all face.
    And what it was that Bill
    Outside alone did brace.
    "I just can't help but feel
    That Bill saw something vile.
    So alien to him
    That on his mind shock piled."
    AS Frank speaks, Todd agrees,
    Refers to what they read.
    "The things inside that book,
    Not living, yet not dead!
    I saw some tracks out there,
    Deep furrows in the ground
    Like no tracks I have seen,
    They're deep and strangely round."
    At length Todd then decides
    That in the light of day
    He will inspect the grounds,
    To find where it might lay.
    
    The sun is hot today
     As Todd begins to seek
    The thing that left the track.
    The air here has a reek.
    Frank has gone to town,
    "Arcane Arts" he must read.
    A talisman he seeks
    To battle with hell's seed.
    The furrows in the earth
    Todd follows with unease.
    They lead into the woods,
    A symptom of disease.
    At last he comes upon
    A pit with sloping sides,
    The murky water there
    Is black, the bottom hides.
    But what he sees there now,
    Besides the furrows round
    Is in the liquid black
    And not upon the ground.
    In short, the water boils,
    Air bubbles from beneath.
    There's something which submerged
    Insanely seems to breathe!
    
    Frank and Todd now meet,
    Reviewing what they know.
    While Bill, unconscious still
    Lays silent, breathing slow.
    The deep pit Todd describes,
    He tells of submerged breath,
    It surely is the thing
    That scared Bill near to death.
    In turn, Frank also shares
    The fruit his study gave.
    They'll make a talisman,
    The lives of men to save.
    The sun sinks slowly down,
    Allowing dusk to creep.
    The shadow's deepening,
     Their strength they fight to keep.
    Still yet they toil and work
    With incantations strange.
    The object that they make
    Will victory arrange.
    If all goes as they plan,
    A door will open wide
    Imprisoning the thing
    Upon the other side.
    
    Outside, a sickly sound
    Comes from the forest deep,
    A movement of great bulk.
    Their hearts both quickly leap.
    Though incomplete, their work
    Still has effectiveness.
    It keeps the thing at bay,
    And stands up to this test.
    The anger of the thing
    Outside is palpable.
    It crashes through the woods,
    Tearing all to rubble.
    Behind them from Bill's room
    Comes forth a tortured moan.
    Inhuman sounds from him
    Like spears at them are thrown.
    And now he's standing there,
    Flat blankness in his eyes.
    He quickly charges them,
    With horrible loud cries.
    They struggle for the charm,
    Bill's self-control is caught.
    That thing directs his mind,
    Controlling every thought.
    
    It takes both Frank and Todd
    To keep Bill held at bay.
    His strength seems limitless...
    But look! He starts to sway!
    He fights as he goes down,
    His strength at last has fled.
    The pallor on his face
    Shows clear he'll soon be dead.
    But now he is himself,
    His eyes alive once more.
    Stark horror on his face
    As he now nears death's door.
    "That blasphemy" he says
    In weakened whispered tones,
    "I saw it! Horrible!",
    With fervency he moans.
    "Don't look into it's eyes ...
    It's eyes ... the pit of hell!
    That hunger from the pit!"
    Bill's now an empty shell.
    With that, he shudders once,
    His body slackly lies,
    The life-force ebbs away
    As quickly now he dies.
    
    In grief, both Frank and Todd
    Forget what they must do,
    To make the talisman.
    Defending all that's true.
    But now their reverie
    Of grief is shattered quick,
    When in their minds a voice
    Comes through both slow and thick!
    "Young men", it softly speaks,
    "Come out and talk with me,
    Or else invite me in.
    I've much that you must see."
    And even though they know
    The voice's evil source,
    Both find it hard to fight.
    It has persuasive force.
    They pull themselves away,
    Returning to the work.
    Will do their level best
    To lock it in the murk.
    So on into the night
    They labor and resist,
    And not 'till break of day
    Do both of them desist.
    
    Exhausted, Frank and Todd
    Fall into fitful sleep.
    In just a few more hours.
    Their destiny they'll keep.
    Their dreams are horror-filled
    Of things both dark and wet,
    Who slither in pursuit.
    These two they'll capture yet.
    Several hours later,
    They waken with a start.
    The time has come so soon,
    In which they'll play their part.
    Todd takes the talisman,
    Frank bundles notes to bring.
    Both set out for the pit,
    They will confront that thing!
    Their hike takes oh so long,
    Eternity, at least!
    At last they reach the pit,
    The home of that foul beast.
    Frank reads incantations 
    As in the pit below
    The water starts to thrash
    And shine with a green glow!
    
    The incantations done,
    The medal's held aloft.
    Todd is set to drop it
    With motion slight and soft,
    When now an earthquake hits.
    The creature is it's source!
    The ground shakes and buckles,
    They're thrown with a great force.
    Alas, they're at the edge!
    Into the pit they go.
    Frank now has caught the rim
    Past him he feels dirt flow.
    Todd is now falling fast,
    A handhold he can't find!
    The water takes him down,
    As horror takes his mind.
    The medal sinking down,
    The light grows brighter still.
    A doorway opens there
    Against the monster's will.
    All within the bottom
    (The water, Todd, the thing)
    Are sucked into the doorway,
    It shuts with a loud ring!
    
    Frank climbs out of the pit
    And painfully looks down.
    The water is all gone,
    The dirt is dry and brown.
    No sign remains of Todd,
    The monster's gone as well.
    Transported instantly
    Unto a living hell.
    The loss of Todd and Bill
    Has killed the triumph here,
    Indeed, they vanquished it
    But at a cost severe!
    Returning to the house,
    He doesn't go inside.
    He merely starts the car
    And blankly starts to ride.
    He'll leave this cursed place,
    To never more return.
    His studies in dark lore,
    Henceforward he will spurn.
    As he drives he yet feels
    The same oppression strong.
    The forest feels alive,
    Where man does not belong.
    
    That thing just can't have been
    The only horror here,
    Or else the malice would
    Be banished from this sphere.
    With dread he wonders now,
    "How many secrets lie
    In these dark evil woods
    Where men may quickly die?"
    A shudder wracks his frame
    At thoughts of things so vile,
    He steps upon the gas
    To quickly pass each mile.
    As the old battered car
    Down the road disappears
    The forest seems to watch
    And hear with unseen ears.
    A dreadful silence falls
    Filled with a portent black,
    A hatred for mankind
    It's wooded frame does wrack.
    A hunger in the woods
    From alien dark hearts,
    Does grow with steadiness.
    For Death rules in these parts.
    
    
    A Singular Experience ~A shipwrecked sailor's tale~ Standing watch on top-side I closely view the sea. For hazards I'm alert, To view what I can see. Hypnotic waves soothe me, And peace, my spirit, rules. The water sparkles, shines, Like oh-so-many jewels. But wait! What's that out there Which bobs atop the wave? A man across a log! We'll seek his life to save. "Man overboard!" I shout. The crew comes running fast. We pull the man aboard, I wonder if he'll last. Later on, down below He's cleaned up, rested too. He now begins his tale, Bizarre, it can't be true! We sit attention-bound To hear his tale of woe It's the strangest story That I will ever know. "I'm called by Jack Harkins." So he begins his tale, "The things that I have seen Would make men's weak hearts fail. The schooner that I owned Was trusty, strong and proud. She came through many storms, Her masts remained unbowed." "A good ship, that she was," The pain shows in his eyes, "Though now she sails no more But on the bottom lies. The storm hit deadly quick, 'Twas violent and mean. The worst storm, yes, by far That I have ever seen!" "The mate and crew were quick, They did all that they could. That storm was just too strong, We heard the breaking wood. My schooner 'Deadly Wasp' Was taking water in. 'Abandon ship' I cried. The storm would have to win." "The waves armed us crashed, Our lifeboat was at hand. We entered heavy seas, And wished for some dry land. The long night slowly passed As we all struggled hard, Clinging to our lives Life would be a reward." "By dawn the sea grew calm, We dozed in fitful sleep. Exhausted silence ruled, We felt like helpless sheep. Then later in the day The mate, Sid Jones, said 'Look!' An island lay afar. So to the oars we took." "A tall, green, craggy place, Both beautiful and dire. The central cliff rose high, It did dark fear inspire. I couldn't then explain What caused the fear I had, I simply knew that place Housed something evil, bad." "As leader of the group I wouldn't show my fear. We needed to strike land, That much to me was clear. And so I swallowed hard While we approached the place. My heart was beating strong As my pulse quickly raced." "Our oars brought us ashore, The beach was white and hot. Deep silence was profound. 'Twas panic that I fought... It seemed that unseen eyes Full of a hatred deep Watched from somewhere near. Still did my courage seep." "We made our camp right there, Prepared a signal fire. While two men searched for food We stacked wood for a pyre. My mate and I alone Sat waiting for the crew, But they did not come back. We did what we could do." "Searched the nearby woods in vain, All gone without a trace! And then we came upon A carving of a face! A face I call it now, So foreign, twisted, dire. That visage carved in stone Raised my fears up higher." "And there before the stone, A footprint in the sod! Not human in the least, It's frightful shape...Oh God! Whatever made that print Had surely killed my men. The blood-drops on the ground Showed me they didn't win." "Unarmed, we stood stock-still Unsure of what to do. 'Our crew may be alive.' A statement I would rue. 'Yes sir,' the mate replied, 'We have to know for sure.' We followed that plain track, It was a potent lure." "It led to craggy height Atop that central spire, As ominous as night, As red as eldrich fire. In spite of both our fears Of what we there might see, We slowly climbed the cliff As careful as can be." "At length we neared the top, A hundred yards away. Dark noises issued forth That turned my heart to clay. A gurgling "Glub...Glub" And sounds of moving flesh! Inhuman as they were, They froze my blood afresh." "My mate and I shared looks Of horror and disgust. We didn't want to look, We knew that someone must. He swallowed hard and said 'I'll do it', then he looked. Because of what he saw, He stood stone-still and shook." "I tried to pull him down But he stood frozen there. He muttered 'Oh my God... It's lair...we've found it's lair!' 'What is it, man?' I cried. 'Unholy...there's the face! The one from in the stone... Not from this time or place.'" "I felt it coming near, The earth trembled and shook. My mate's two eyes grew wide, His face an open book. 'Let's go!' I shouted loud, But he stood, heard me not. I had to leave him there, And ran like I was shot." "From down the slope I turned And saw a dreadful sight. A grey-green tentacle Grabbed him with awful might. It yanked him out of view While in horror there I stood. I found myself alone. My prospects far from good!" "While I stood rooted there It's face came into view, It's clammy writhing flesh Split my frail heart in two! Too horrible for words, The sight hit me like lead. Like old Medusa's face, It nearly struck me dead!" "As I watched it raised up, It's massive bulk came out. With hatred palpable To make a fearful rout. It's odor struck me then, A rotten, seething wall Which snapped me from my daze! I turned, started to fall." "I caught my balance, ran. The thing was at my heel! It's shadow I could see And presence I could feel. So big and yet so fast! I dared not slow or slip. On a loose rock I stepped, A sharp pain pierced my hip." "Ahead I saw the beach Between the parting trees. Limping hard as I ran, I fell on bleeding knees! It's tentacles reached out Just grazing past my arm. I shot out from the trees, Running fast in alarm." "I couldn't see our boat! A log was floating near. Diving in I grabbed it. My legs propelled by fear. Looking back behind me, I saw the thing held back Standing in the forest... Hid just within that track." "I floated for two days Despairing for my life When you came upon me, Relieving me of strife. There you have my story, I see you don't believe. If I were in your shoes, I'd likewise not receive." Exhausted, he lays back, He's drained and looking pale. It's clear to us that he Believes his own queer tale. Above, we stand and talk, Discussing our odd guest. "He's touched," the captain says, "And surly needs some rest." We all agree the man Is just not thinking straight, For who'd believe that tale Regarding his crew's fate? "Land-ho" the lookout cries, An island near at hand. We all could use some time With feet upon the land. The island comes into view, It's jutting spire is plain. It's red as eldrich fire! Could our strange guest be sane? This is the very place He spoke of in his tale. "Nonsense!" the captain says, Orders us to break sail. The crew of the Spirit Will have some time ashore. Myself, I like it not. It chills me to the core. We'll disembark today, This message I'll float off In a sealed bottle, Though crewmates laugh and scoff... "January 25, 1992 Thus ends the strange manuscript that was found floating in a sealed bottle in Newport, Rhode Island. Investigation has yielded that two ships, one christened the Spirit and the other Deadly Wasp were both declared missing at sea in the year 1879. The two ship's disappearances were attributed to being lost in the same storm, somewhere in the south Atlantic, although no proof ever surfaced to support that theory. The case remains unsolved to this day." The Providence Daily Gazette

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