Oct 27, 2009


Carlos stood on the ground struggling. He began to feel his skin burn from the hot sun. William stood laughing ten yards from him, holding the torn piece of Carlos' vampire cloak in his hand.

"I never thought I could finish you so easily." William said, batting his gargoyle wings admirably.

Carlos stared straight ahead at William in dismay. He could not fathom losing at this moment. He reminded himself of needing to stop William before the Werewolf lord awakened. William could not gain any more power. He was already too dangerous. Carlos gathered up his strength and stood straight. His skin immediately burst into flames and he let out a growl in pain.

Carlos was now on his knees, his hands in the dirt and his face looking to the ground. The demonic entity inside him was thrashing for freedom. The demon thought at that moment that Carlos was going to die. Death for Carlos meant death for the demon. The sheer power of the demon was difficult for Carlos to handle. Carlos summoned up what holy power he could to keep the demon at bay, and to prevent possession. At looking ahead, Carlos saw William smiling, not having moved a step.

The demon now struggled to free itself with all its might. Carlos floated up in the air, growling. The demon's voice started to come through more and more as Carlos levitated high above the ground.

"I'm glad you will make this at least a challenge!" William screamed up into the air.

Carlos was doing his best to fill his body up with holy energy. This would be the worst time to let the demon take over, yet Carlos felt it near complete possession.

"Don't try to stop it. Holy and demonic are like oil and water. Your body will tear to pieces."

Carlos let out a last effort. A highly audible demonic growl escaped him, and dust came flying up in the air rapidly.

William shielded his eyes from the dust and waited for the thump of Carlos' body hitting the ground. A moment later and there was not a sound but the wind blowing. William squinted up into the dust cloud and became startled and shocked. In this dust cloud was a dark angelic figure, wings spread and floating, towering at around ten feet. The presence of it was not angelic, yet not demonic. The presence was purely dark and ominous. The presence of death.

"I am an angel of death." Said the figure. The voice was a powerful hiss. It came to William's ears as if being spoken into directly from both sides, and from the sound of a thousand people standing in a stadium, and from a person standing straight in front. The voice alone immediately turned all the fear on to William.

Oct 15, 2009

The Mirror Well - Part I

Carol brushed her dark crimson behind her shoulder to prevent it from falling in front of her face as she peered down into the river. She was sitting on the edge of a stone bridge. The bridge was old and dirty, and no one ever came to use it. The road that once went over the bridge became shrouded by forest and vines began to grow through the bricks.

This specific moment was rather peculiar for her. The day was dark and dreary, as usual for her. The sky was grey and rain was scattering throughout every inch of the earth. Yet the spot she was sitting in was sunny. She saw the water sparkling then looked up at the sky to confirm that the sun was indeed out. Next, she rolled up the sleeve of her left arm and examined the scars on her wrist in this new light. She sighed and rolled the sleeve back down, peering off into the gray distance.

"Don't do it." Immediately the voice of Dave, her dead childhood friend came into her head. She always had been infatuated with him but never told him. Ever since he died she obsessively thought about what he would think of her actions. The obsession eventually lead to him being a voice in her head.

Her face sunk more so than before as she remembered the photo displayed on his coffin at the funeral. He was smiling, happy as ever. Positive as ever. She always envied him and wondered how he did it. He had been through much more than she had. He was part of the witness protection program, and she had never been told what he had witnessed. The times they were alone and she desperately tried to get it out of him, she was often beaten to the point of bleeding. A less frequent, but not uncommon occurrence was him vomiting uncontrollably and tearing his own skin off, usually the back of his hands. He would always scream the same unintelligible words, which always appeared to be coming from the mouth of a young child. She sighed and remembered to trust him, as she turned around and set off walking off of the bridge.

As she stared off at the endless circle of trees she felt comfortable. She rubbed the new cluster of bruises on her right shoulder that her boyfriend had given to her earlier that day. He failed another test, and he had no money to buy weed. She felt her right pocket, remembering that she had some salvia, and her pipe. She reached into left jacket pocket and removed her lighter.


Adagio - Archangels In Black (yes, the entire album)
Desiderii Marginis - Deadbeat (the entire album)

Oct 4, 2009


If a raven's eye caught my hand and knew
If it could know what I was about
If it could see the shadows
Would it peck the flesh off of my bones?

Is the raven's eye that of the accuser?

Then why raven do you sit so still?
Speak you vile crow!

Like a monster it steals the moonlight
Its beak forms a perfect smile of the darkest knowledge

It knows
It knows
It knows

Scream raven!
Crow at the moon and bring me the secrets!
Scream if it means me death!

Oh, but now raven I see you too
I look through your hollow bones
I see your thoughts
Those blue wisps pulsating away at the red fragments of my interruption

Your eyes that thieve the moon of its splendor
I now possess them within my veins
I have your knowledge on top of my curling tongue

Whisper raven
Whisper your secrets to me
They are not lost upon my spirit


Time is the slowest moving thread from the needle by my eye
The gate of teeth and chains closes before my soul
It will not open
The teeth won't turn to flowers
The chains won't turn to vines
My blood won't become wine

But the gate opens when it hears her footsteps
The touch of her hand erases my claws
The touch of her lips removes my fangs
My gate is now a doorway
The chains are now vines bearing sweet grapes
The blood is now wine that we drink
We celebrate

Inside the gate is a garden
The stairs of the words we speak lead to the fountain
Of my soul
Her soul