Tag Archives: Horror

What Lurks in me….


Lurking

 

Do you wish to know what lurks and crawls in this brain of mine? Do you wish to know the avenues it takes , the good and the bad, the beautiful, the bloody, the bombastic, and the golden moments that drown?  Well welcome I say with a  devilish grin wearing my suit of pure white for we are all aspects of all the shades that color the world.

YOU are not exempt.  Perhaps in your readings of me and the stories you hear  you will see a little into yourself, filtering out all the crap that seems that so often gets in the way of the truth that is you.

So read on, to three  of my eclectic samples not quite finished  in my future collection of the macabre, to the fun, to the poignant, to the mysterious “what if” of it all… 🙂

 

I ASK YOU, MY READERS, MY FOLLOWERS, TO PICK ONE OF THE THREE STORIES FOR ME TO FINISH BASED ON THE EXCERPT OF EACH BELOW.

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#1 To Take a Life

 

Sebastian saw the woman sitting in her favorite spot yet again this early Saturday night. Always the same table, the one right at the edge of the dance floor and closest to the bar. She would start the night ordering drink after drink, usually a red wine sometimes a white and just stare ahead seemingly at nothing.

Hours would pass and the club would slowly fill with people and there she would be sitting. Alone. No man had ever approached her to ask her for a dance as she sat. Perhaps they were afraid to approach her, perhaps they thought she wanted to be left alone, perhaps they thought she was out of their league. Perhaps, the word, NO, was already written on her face before they ever would have approached to pose the question in the first place.

Sebastian knew secretly, if they had asked, she probably would have said yes to every one of them. But they never had. So she would sit andvampire watch them all dance from her place at the table. Watch, as the men and women moved on the floor to the seductive beat which pulsed and coursed through the club and bodies wanting to find release from the week’s drudgery called life. Sebastian knew their every whim, their every desire as he always did. They were an open book to him. All you had to do was listen.

This night however he only had ears for the woman who had come here every Saturday night for the last three weeks. Her name was Ms. Evelyn Greer , a pale face contrasted with short shoulder length dark auburn hair, green almond shaped eyes, and full red lips. If she were to ever break a smile he was sure it would have been stunning. A beauty of a woman, majestic in a certain way she held her self. But there was a dullness to her, muted was the word that came to mind, like a dimmer switch to a light turned way down low.

She was to be his tonight. She had marked been many nights ago. She was the one and she had only but to ask him to end her.

 

 

#2 From a Dark Place

 

Joseph carefully placed the five white candles he had just purchased into the big brown suitcase amidst the other items he had already collected. He hands went to close the suitcase but instead they caressed a black leather bound book which lay inside. His eyes went wide and his pupils dilated ever so slightly as he stared at it. He traced the raised symbol on its cover emblazoned in red with his index finger. His finger ran along the entire perimeter of the symbol at all its five points where the continuous line was traced. The symbol was five lines in the form of a star where each point touched the raised circle which surrounded it,  what a lovely symbol he mused. Could there be anything more perfect he wondered. A sly smile came to his lips because for all his studies he new the true power of that symbol while others only thought they knew. He had become an adept at the mysteries of it.

“Joseph!” a woman’s voice called to him in a wail from somewhere downstairs in the house.

“Joseph, what the hell are you doing? Spaghettis all done! Christ on a crutch, move your ass!” she yelled again. Joseph could almost picture the spit flying from her mouth as she yelled at him. Fucking fat cow. He would be glad when he was done with her. Joseph couldn’tpentagram remember choosing such a bitch of a woman for a wife but he must have, for she lived in his home and occasionally wanted to have sex because of that damn ring on her finger and his own. The weight of the ring seemed to increase more everyday. He wanted to stuff it down her damn throat. It was maddening. No more, no fucking more. Tomorrow, Joseph’s life was about to change.

“Joseph!” she wailed again.

Joseph slammed the suitcase shut, secured the latches and locked them by rotating the combination on each with his thumbs all at once.

“Coming Elizabeth!…..you bitch.” Joseph said the last to himself in a whisper as he tucked the suitcase deep up under his side of the bed and quickly got up to go downstairs for dinner. He would suffer through it with the heifer just for one more night. Spaghetti was his favorite he thought idly to himself.

 

#3 The Power In Me

 

Three ping pong balls revolved in midair, each one following the other in a tight circle as they flew.

“I shouldn’t be able to be doing this Carl!” she yelled at the bald little man, sitting across the table from her in the kitchen of her house. Carl was wearing a smug little grin on his face that annoyed the hell out of her. He was always full of himself, today more than usual. He knew something he wasn’t telling her. Shit! She was losing her concentration. One of the balls slipped out of its rotation and fell.

“True and not true,” he replied back glibly to her, as he deftly caught the fallen ball with his left hand inches before it hit the table.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked, her eyes staring ahead at the two remaining balls still rotating in front of her. She thought of a figure eight, and immediately the balls begin to swirl in that configuration. It was equally cool and frightening at the same time, she thought, but Carl didn’t have to know that.

“Angela, you have taken to this extremely well. It seems you are a natural. I have to give our co-workers credit. They were betting you would do well the first time right out the gate. Not many can pull off even one ball this quickly, let alone three. Guess I will have to pay up when I get back to the office.” Carl chuckled to himself, rolling the little white ball he had caught, back and forth between his hands on the dining room table still smiling at her smugly.

Angela took her eyes from the two remaining balls which spun and looked directly at Carl.

“You mean there are others who can do this? Out with it Carl, I’m sick of the games. You’ve been playing them too long, first with my husband now with me. Be straight for once, or for god sakes I’ll shove these balls down your goddamn throat.”

Carl’s smiled slipped a little her under dark stare. Carl involuntarily swallowed when he suddenly realized the balls were still continuing to spin in their figure eight pattern without her looking at them. Damn, she is good, he thought. But she didn’t have to know that; she was arrogant enough as it was. A lot like him more or less, he thought, but still soft.

“Well.” Angela said to him, more of a command than a question.

Carl ignored her tone. “You remember that project three years ago that kept Scott away so many hours at night?”

She remembered all too well, the late nights, and all the arguments that followed, telling her he couldn’t discuss his work with her because she didn’t have the clearance. It still rankled her a little still to this day. Angela only nodded as she looked at him as the balls continued to spin, so Clark continued.

“We had found something amazing. To be more exact it found us. One of the lab geeks directed to synthesize some of the proteins from a plant brought back from Brazil accidentally combined two cultures in the synthesis we were working on with the lot. The other plant was from an older expedition we had done years ago in the Congo in Africa. Scott himself had pulled it from the incubator a few days later. Lot forty-two.”

Angela noticed Carl’s eyes dilating as his hand gestures became more animated as he spoke. This disturbed her for some reason and she didn’t know why.

“Oh, the things Lot Forty-two revealed to us Angela!” Carl found it hard to contain himself as he talked.

“We didn’t know how much until we began the human trials. You did not know this, but Scott your husband, was one of the first volunteers. The committee had been paranoid of it getting out to the general public so everything was done in house; very hush, hush.”

“I am sorry to say this Angela, but he was a fool.” Carl said flatly to her from across the table.

Angela’s eyes suddenly flared from a dull to electric green.

An invisible force compressed against Carl’s chest, to send him flying and to go slamming into the wall behind him. Plaster crumbled around his head and tumbled off his nice black suit coat he wore.

Now I am going to have to go to the dry cleaners tomorrow, Carl thought idly….

Powerinme

 

 

 

 

Wolf Moon – A Poem


 

Wolf

 

Wolf Moon ~    O_o

 

Cold fog seeps

and crawls across

the path I creep.

Winds undulate naked branches,

stirring dead leaves to life

begging at second chances

Darkness shrouds my form

wrapped in a cursed cocoon

that is constantly reborn.

Full moon rises high

resplendent in my soul

A wicked herald courses the sky.

Skin rips, tendons elongate,

Blood drips, fangs germinate

as hair propagates as muscles sip

at the power the moon

spills and instills

into me.

A howl escapes…

full and exultant,

primal and free.

It is answered

by a brother, then a sister

fallen under the same spell

of the Wolf Moon.

It’s a call

To hunt.

and we are hungry.

Oh so hungry.

 

 

By Philip Wardlow 2015

Cracks and Crevasses – A short little horror story


 

cracky

 

 

Her leaving was quite sudden.  Her warmth will be missed,  but  my love that I had known for these many years  turned out to be simply a bitch.

Now I sit in this house we once shared…its a big bold hold of a house, with cracks in the walls and crevices in the floor boards that lead to the in between spaces and nowhere.

I would have fixed them all, all those broken pieces left unattended over the years, but now what’s the use.  There really is no call to repair something that only brought me to despair.

Never good enough.  “A hole in the wall, ” was my only gift to her,  she had ever said.

Now gone.

Then they began to come.

Out of all the those holes and cracks they seeped.

The Monsters liked to crawl  from where they laid hidden and nip at me when I turned away.  They are an annoyance, their pestering, their little pains. I have gotten scratched on many a occasion,  a bite mark or two when ever deep asleep or not quite quick enough on my feet at night.

I felt them grinning there in the dark.  I couldn’t  see them in the cold dead spaces of the room as they hid but I knew there was  an upturned lip or a crinkling of the eyes. I felt them there drinking me in.

I tried not to think about  them as I drove to work,  or as I sat at my desk, or went to the bathroom or ate my lunch in the  breakroom. Sometimes, I even thought one or two had hidden in the trunk of my car and came to work with me.  For I felt their presence always….

Its was oppressive.

It hadn’t  always been like this. Once I had been free. No monster nipped, scratched or bit.  For they didn’t exist in my home.  Back then, there were no shadows to hide them. No cold spaces to give them comfort.

I am not sure how they found me. For I sure as hell didn’t let them in. I never asked them to come into my home.  I hate them. All of them and they hate me.

There are so many,   skinny ones, fat ones, ugly ones,  ugly skinny ones, ugly fat ones,  foul smelly ones, red eyed, green eyed, black eyed, no-eyed even. So, so many.

I keep them back.  Even though there are many, they are not very brave, not at all. They may grin from the dark but they cower. They are afraid of me in some  small way.  I have yet to figure out why.

I know they don’t like my boot when I give one or two of them a good kick.  Oh no, they don’t like the boot, not at all. Then I grin back at them and I sense them cowering more.

They are weak little Monsters and I have my big black steel toed boots to keep them at bay. I wear them all the time even in bed. Not in the shower though. That would be silly. I lock the bathroom door tight, remove my boots in a flourish, still laced but loose, enough to slip back on in a flash.

Naked, I jump in the shower, scrub scrub scrub, then out in a moment between a heartbeat  of their indecision to possibly break down the door.  I scramble for my towel, dry off and put on my clothes for the next day, slip into my boots and crawl into bed.

They are not as clever as me. Not by far you see.

Until I wake up and find my legs secured, and tied tightly  to the bed .

Hmmm…my arms won’t move… they seem to be tied at my sides as well. I am all snug, snug, snug

They all are there, perched on my footboard.  Waiting for me to wake up this whole time. They just stare at me, colored eyes shining and no eyes and lifeless and all.

Why do they wait?

Why don’t they  rent, why don’t they tear and rip and claw?

A taloned appendage slips off my  boots and with a clunk they both hit the bedroom floor.

Then the grins began. This time I can see them.  Some toothless, or black and decayed as death,

some mouths with lolling tongues licking lips which drip, milk white saliva which issue a delicate hiss

upon my sheets.

They creep as one …like a low rolling wave they come. Up my body, over my feet, calves and knees…blood seeps, staining the white bed red.

Thighs are on fire as they continue to eat and eat…

All I can do is look on…pain, oh the overwhelming pain, drowns me as the wave of teeth and claws and malice munches me, a wide awake nightmare…of my Monsters finally taking their due.

Darkness falls complete as my eyes are plucked and eaten…how is it that I still live?

My mad mind is all that remains intact.

Until they reach my brains for their final snack.

My mind settles….then drifts…the pain is gone and  I meander in a pool of blood red mist…

Images come,  blurred and dim,  a focus , a purpose coalesces ….

A man sleeps before me angry and mean, fear filled and hopeless as I sit looking through a lit crack into his room and give him a little grin.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2015

The Stairs – Scary gif?


Watch for what’s on the Stairs….

funny-gif-monster-climbing-stairs-falling

 

 

 

The Well – short story Prompt


I follow a fellow writer named MC Hunton over at her blog. She recently started challenging herself and fellow followers to do a writing piece based on a certain writing prompt every Monday . I finally got off my lazy butt and did one like I promised her I would.  The writing  prompt this week was entitled  Monday Muse: Sound.  You basically have to write anything having to do with a noise or silence that won’t go away.  I believe the only rule was that you had to write for thirty minutes straight and just flow with it…..

So here it goes… the story is NOT done but I think I made  a pretty good start.  I will definitely try and finish it up soon I hope. Let me know what you think.

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The Well

by Philip Wardlow

Momma would send me every morning to go fetch the water from the well that sat behind our house some fifty yards back near where the woods started. I hated that chore more than anything something awful.

I walked sleepily to the open back porch outside in my pajamas wearing just my slippers. The sun was still trying to sneak its head over the hill as the stars were still wide awake and dancing in a dark blue shy sky. This morning was especially  chilly when I grabbed the bucket at the back door. I saw every breath I took float away like I was taking a smoke like my daddy used to do.

I stood there in the doorway staring out at the backyard all the way back to where the well was. I could tell it was just waiting for me like it always does. To me it looked a like a squat little frog made of wood and brick, staring at me. Even two of the bricks which made up the wall of it were placed just so and colored just so different from all the rest, that it made ‘em look like eyes staring back at me in the dim light of the morning night. I imagined a big tongue rolling out of the hole of the well just waiting to slurp me up all green, slimy and wet.

This morning there was a fog rolling all along the ground from account of the cold. It wasn’t too thick. Pieces of it slunk around the yard moving left to right out of the corn field to cross over and go past the chicken coop on the far side and continue on like it needed some place to be. I noticed that none of the fog got too close to the well. It seemed to want to have nothing to with it as it meandered across the yard.

I shivered and wondered if I would hear it again. I  heard the sound all the time.  Dear lord, I hope I don’t hear it again, I said in a silent prayer inside my head.

“Josephine, get your butt going with that water! It ain’t gonna get itself,” I heard my momma yell at me from inside the house.

“Yes, momma.”

I mustered my courage and walked across the dark yard toward the well with the water bucket wrapped in my arms tight to my chest.

The chicken coop was quiet as I passed by, the hens and Old mister Rudy the cranky old rooster hadn’t yet caught on to the fact of that it was a new day on hand just yet. They didn’t make a peep as I walked on by ‘em to the well.

The blue pines rose up behind the well and towered above, swaying in the breeze. My own  shadow  was swallowed by theirs as I approached the well. It was always darkest in this part of the yard as the sun was still buried deep behind ‘em.

I sat the bucket on the edge of the well and secured the hook to the rope and sent it over the edge and started to slowly lower it down.

I looked out at the thick clump of dark trees behind the well. Anything could be in there. I began to imagine that something would wait for me on my walk to the house when my arms were heavy with a bucket full of water and take me from behind and drag me into the woods and my momma would never see me again. I thought a silly thought then. My teacher calling my name at roll call.

Josephine Stevens – she would call out twice to the classroom but I wouldn’t answer her. Because I just simply wouldn’t be anymore.

I found myself cranking the line to lower the bucket even faster….

Then I heard it….the noise.

….to be Continued…….:)

Roadkill – Novella Ebook – 2day FREE Promotion Starts Today Saturday April 5th!!


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ROADKILL Amazon Free Offer 

If you are new to my website you may not have realized that I Epublished a book to Amazon that sells for $2.99,  called you guessed it, “Roadkill” , back in late 2012.

If you look to the right of this article,  you will see a direct link to that story on Amazon’s website. You can also click here or above.

Starting TODAY on Saturday , April 5th  through Sunday April 6th,  it will be available for FREE for anyone to download for the Kindle. (The time for when it starts may not be Exactly  after Midnight the first day but it will start that day)

You don’t need a Kindle to download it and read it but you will  probably need to download Amazon’s small Kindle app program for viewing on your PC before being able to download and read the story. Other than that it’s a piece of cake.

Please read my little synopsis below or go to Amazon’s website to see what the story is about:

Roadkill Synopsis:

There are things that lurk in our world unseen, dark creatures lost in a time and a world so ancient as to be forgotten by the same humans who made dark dealings with them so very long ago.

Now per happenstance, on a dark shrouded road these worlds will collide briefly again….

What would you do if you hit and killed something on the road in a raging blizzard in the middle of the night and that something you killed had a companion which meant to force you to make amends for your actions?

Adrian is the thirty-something already troubled family man who suddenly finds himself in that world. Adrian soon discovers it doesn’t want him. It wants the thing he holds most dear to his heart. Whom will the thing choose as the price to be paid, Adrian’s lovely wife Elisa, or his young eight year old daughter Sylvia?

Following the ancient laws set forth, a balance must be kept, and Adrian the good family man, must pay the price whether he likes it or not. Will Adrian have it in him to fight to keep his family whole or will he give into his fears and past traumas that have haunted him for years and lose the ones he loves along with perhaps his own life in the process?

The Books & Authors that shaped my writing…


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I went to my library of books and pulled all the ones out that I thought shaped me as a writer in general. These are ones by certain authors, which I am sure, my subconcious mind draws upon when I write my own stories and poems.

The authors range from Ray Bradbury, Robert E. Howard, Julian May, Anne Rice, Magaret Weis and Tracy Hickman, Isaac Asimov, Douglas Adams, Stephen King, Fritz Leiber, David Eddings, Robert Jordan, J.K. Rowling, J.D. Salinger, Brandon Sanderson,Harry Harrison, Ayn Rand, Fred Saberhagen.

I also snuck in a picture of a Comic book as well because I have been reading those ever since I can remember, so how can they not  have shaped how I write on a daily basis?

Let me know what books and authors have shaped you as a writer or even if you are reader of many books in general.

I have read much Fantasy ranging from low to high, Conan The Barbarian anyone?   And ‘The Wheel of Time’ – an  EPIC Series by Robert Jordan. Oh, and don’t get me started on the wonderful series of J.K. Rowling’s – Harry Potter.  And there are so many more fantasy writers that drive  me.

How about the beautiful poignant literary novels such as  Ayn Rand’s – “The Fountainhead” ,  “Life of Pi” by Yann Martel, J.D. Salinger’s – “Catcher in the Rye”,  or  Cervante’s –  “Don Quixote”

Are you a science fiction fan?  How about  Isaac Asimov’s – “Foundation Series”,  L. Ron. Hubbard’s – “Battlefield Earth”, or  Harry Harrison’s – “Stainless Steel Rat”.

Fancy some Horror?….  Stephen King, Anne Rice (even Ray Bradbury dabbled in it a little) ?

And lastly Comics…..Spiderman, X-men, Daredevil, Avengers, Hulk, X-force,Thor, Teen Titans, Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash, and the list goes on…:)

I am discovering new ones as I speak. To me that’s the most  fun part of reading…finding that new favorite author.

What do you read…and what are your favorite stories?

Thriller Chiller! – My Night out at a Horror Film Festival!


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Hello one and all….

My wife made it back from her overseas vacation after 14 Long Days…BUT what did I do while she was gone during  all that time?

Well…after I got tired of all the strippers and hookers night after night laying around and drinking up all my orange juice in the fridge at my house, I decided to go to the THRILLER CHILLER FILM FESTIVAL in my area.

The Festival was scheduled to go for  three days , Thursdays thru Saturday from midday well into the night…

I had limited time on my hands because of all the hookers,  so I could only chose one day, Friday ended being  the day I would attend the festival.

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The Film Festival is held annually at the local Wealthy Street Theatre in Grand Rapids, Michigan.  It’s a beautiful theatre . It houses Theatre A which showcases the longer running film and Theatre B for a lot of the movie shorts.

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This was to be my first Film Festival and I didn’t know what to expect.  I did expect this to be a more intimate affair as this was a small venue along with it being a less well known event. (but getting bigger every year!!! )

 The front Lobby and the inside of the theatre give off  nice ambiance. Theatres like this are like coming home. It was nice just to sit there in my seat and just take it all in.

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I didn’t go with anyone but I did run into a friend named, Mary Marly Green, who often frequents these events and who also does a little acting herself in this genre of film. She’s a great actress, she dies very well also….:)  Hire her.

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I saw many great movies Long and Short such as: Kill Switch, The Gauntlet, For No Eyes Only, O Amuleto do Dragao,Devils in the Darkness.

Check out the trailers above. I highly recommend all of the movies if you run across them in a film Festival in your area .

I had a good time for a first timer. I will definitely be going to next year’s event and perhaps look for others to attend between that time…:).     Check out other pictures I took at the event below!

Actual Creature Prop hand you could buy from the Movie – ” Devils in the Darkness”
The Director of Devil in the Darkness, Daniel E. Falicki, getting a little frisky with one of the actors in the movie…
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Marly and Me…. wait wasn’t that a movie?
Devils in the Darkness made it’s Premiere here the night I went to the Film Festival…it was a Michigan based production group that produced the film!

Glady’s and the Bat – 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge- Poem #30


Gladys

Glady’s and the Bat

Glady’s was an adventurous girl

prone to fits of dangerous

distraction.

A faired hair maiden.

Fair of mind as well, a simple girl.

but strong of will.

And will it seems, goes a long way in the land of scary make believe.

as you will see.

For a creature existed at the highest of heights

who dwelt in a dark,  dark cave of the evilest intent and might

 At night this foul creature swooped and dove, and dove and swooped

into the quaint little village where Glady’s did dwell,

Shrieking as it flew, it  carried off poor villagers from out of their beds.

The town had dwindled down next to nothing under it’s

never ending onslaught of nightly terror and dread.

Left now, were only Glady’s, the ice cream maker,

the pastor, and poor old widow Lady Albright

to be found in the town at next sundown.

“I shall face this demon,” Gladys told the others calmly.

“Very well, do what you must, but leave us be,” Lady Albright intoned.

“Oh, simple child,” the ice cream maker only said.

“I give you my protection,” the pastor simply said,  as he looked to the heavens.

Gladys boldly walked into the square at twilight while the others peeked

at her from the safety of their bedrooms.

Sweaty palms held tight to her late father’s sword,

now rusted and pitted but still sharp and keen of edge.

A flutter of wings sounded in the distant as

a dark shadow descended.

A flit of nothing flew over Gladys and beyond her.

A  crash of glass, and a scream ripped the night as

poor Lady Abright was plucked from bed and covers.

Her tortuous wail faded into the dark clouds as

the creature escaped back to its lair.

“We must go after her!” Gladys told the others

“Are you daft dear girl, we would surely die!” the cream maker wailed.

“Her fate was already written I am afraid.” said the pastor knowingly

Looking to them both, her eyes narrowed in quiet consternation.

Then an  AHA! moment entered her wee brain.

“Next time he comes I have a plan,” she said quietly.

The moon fell and the sun rose and then the moon rose

again as the next night came.

“I don’t see how this will help, we shall all surely die.

I am the most important can’t you see?  ” the pastor intoned.

They all stood clutching  each other  together tied tight with rough braided

rope at the waist in the middle of the street,

“Are you not assured of your safety through your piety? What’s there

to fear for you?” she smiled slyly.

The ice cream maker shook in his place and simply held tight to his

tub of cream that he had been told to bring.

A shriek preceded it’s shadow as it decended.

Talons clutched and pulled, grabbing the pastor

Yet the pastor did not budge, the weight being too great.

“Hold, monster!” Glady’s  yelled.

“Is it blood you seek? I have something sweeter,”

Glady’s grabbed the tub of cream, popped the top

and plunged her hand in deep.

She then  slathered the good pastor from head to

toe.

“Go ahead have a bite”  Gladys said

The creature landed,

Black fur, big ears,  wings ending in talons,

Teeth white, sharp and long,

Eyes wide and mad approached on spindly legs.

It looked at them each, and slowly full in the eye.

“Sweeeeeeeeeeeet!” it said sniffing the air.

Then bit into the pastor deep.

The pastor squeaked then died.

The dark bat licked the dead pastor clean.

“Mooooore!” it simply said

So Gladys gave him more.

And more, and more.

Now her and the creamer

share a house and keep the cream

well stocked.

As her and her pet bat go

on many a midnight walk.

by Philip Wardlow

Creepy – 30day Halloween Poem Challenge – Poem #29


Creepy –

I bet I can creep you out in some small way…:)

What exactly are you scared of?

You  sitting there, looking at your screen reading this.

A thousand things in nature  perhaps may be  just around

the corner. Waiting to meet you.

Be it man, an animal, a deformed creature or the unholiest of holies

in the night.

Some DO exist,  and  some may exist. You don’t really know for sure if they don’t.

It’s a big creepy world out there with big creepy things in it.

Do you need to go to the bathroom? Have a sit on the toilet.

Try not to look down and imagine something slowly crawling through the pipe

into your business. Is that the sound of very small teeth?

What’s your number? And is it up tonight?

You can probably say no. BUT you could be dead before the morn.

Singled out by that leery eyed little man down the street,

that’s taken a fancy to those beautiful feet.

He must have them for his collection you know…he must.

Oh, you’re at a party amongst your closest friends?

So you’re safe…sure, sure, no worries. He’ll wait.

Check your car, check your closet,  check under the bed.

that’s where I would hide If I wanted you dead.

What’s that tickle in your throat?

What’s that rumble in your belly?

Something kicking and crawling to get out?

Now how did that find it’s way in? Perhaps through

your belly button.

Well after all, it is Halloween my friend.Creepy

by Philip Wardlow