Second Helpings

•November 9, 2014 • Leave a Comment


Distractions can be deadly. I’ve paid for mine in blood and flesh.  Seems so trite to write now…blood and flesh.  Are you picturing some poorly directed and portrayed horror film? Most are.  How does one translate true evil and true fear onto film? You can’t.  Because true evil causes a fear that goes beyond shock and screams and wide eyes.  True evil causes fear that simply can’t be put into words. But allow me to try here.  No, fuck that.  No one allows me anything.  I’m telling you and you will read it.  True fear is felt somewhere in your soul, if you have one. It is eyes rolling back in your head, bowel loosening, screams that never release because they choke you, face clawing…your brain shutting down because it simply can’t deal with what it is seeing, what it is feeling.

I’ve been IN fear for the last few years.  He kept me that way.  He enjoyed me that way.  My distractions placed me firmly in his hands and he used those hands on me in ways that, when I think of them now, lead me right to that fear again.  I deserved it all. His punishments and the ones he allowed his minions to carry out won’t be forgotten.  Ever.

You’d think I would have learned a lesson from it all. *slow smile filled with malignant promise*

I’m back.  I’m free from his prison…somewhat.  And I am high on what is to come.


I am no more a witch……

•February 23, 2011 • Leave a Comment

I am no more a witch than you are a wizard. If you take my life away, God will give you blood to drink.
Sarah Good

Seeds of Evil

•January 19, 2011 • Leave a Comment

“Destroy the seed of evil, or it will grow up to your ruin.” -Aesop

The seeds of evil are often planted inconspicuously. So when they are fully grown, you’ll find it too late to avoid or escape…..

Her Kind

•December 22, 2010 • Leave a Comment

I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.

by Anne Sexton

There are Things

•December 14, 2010 • Leave a Comment

There are things out there worse than shadows,

The shadows that make the head turn to just make sure.

There are things out there worse than the dark,

The dark where one can hide and wait.

There are things out there worse than nightmares,

The nightmares that make one wake in a cold, clammy sweat.

There are things out there worse than a killer,

The killer that has your name on their lips.

There are things out there worse than monsters,

The monsters you imagine beneath your bed, outside your window.

There are things out there worse than death.

In death, your mind is no longer your own.

I am in the Shadows. I am in the Dark.

I am your Nightmare. I am the Killer.

I am the Monster.

And in Death, I will hold the will of your mind for Eternity.

There are few things worse than…Me.

666 By Abe Rossi

•December 8, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Into night may we run
With the deeds we have done
While the rest of us just look away
6 steps from our neighbors
6 steps from our kin
6 steps till we fall down and pray

In the dark ides of war
Where our hatred is swore
The trigger our only reply
6 shots for the foeman
6 shots for the friend
6 shots for the souls that will die

Somewhere deep inside
In the blackness we hide
Afraid someone will call out our bluff
6 sins may we borrow
6 sins may we keep
6 sins wasn’t ever enough

In the darkness of hell
There tolls a red bell
Blood from all we forsake
6 times for the sinner
6 times for the saint
6 times for the choices we make

In the darkness of hell
There tolls a red bell….

Necromancy By Heather M Craig

•December 3, 2010 • Leave a Comment

My aura blackens
with the pitch of night.
It sucks me into
my terminal abyss.

I peer the innocuous,
stranger to thee.
I victimize her clandestine
as ignoble as I may be,
she neglects to see.

I manipulate her
into my lonely hands.
She is welcomed
to my ascendary
forcing bittersweet sufferage
as I hear her hardened pleas.

Starvation. Whips. Cuts.

I imbide her crimson gore
that immerses the blade,
As the taste engulfs my pleasure.

As her flesh decomposes,
through her agonizing trial,
she’ll live forever with me.

I took her soul. Her very breath.

She took my heart.

by Heather M Craig