Vampirewitch39 Royal Sire (204) Posts: 1,062 Honor: 25,994 [ Give / Take ] |
Vampirewitch39 Royal Sire (204) Posts: 1,062 Honor: 25,994 [ Give / Take ] |
I want to say Thank You to Vodka for doing editing on the post, and FalsexCure for the help in coding and image.
Yes, I can't wait either. :)
Halloween
The creatures of the night captivate their prey.
This is the night that kills the innocence of the dawning day.
The ghouls anticipate their move to bring about their scares
to naive little children who are taken unawares.
The little cherub hands that hold their candy bags
are lining up the streets, smiling at scary clowns and old hags.
They impatiently wait for their bags to be filled with yummy treats.
The creatures of the night, they wait patiently without defeat.
When the innocence of youth is taken one by one.
Questions are always asked but what is done is done.
So take this story with caution and do not trick or treat.
Halloween night is not safe so please stay off the streets!
MiaJ
I enter my profile but I still plan to write more words, for the story and obsessively correct any grammar errors,
Id like to enter this profile...I changed my mind from using goregasm
I am entering the contest as a free account...which is not easy
I would like to enter this profile in the Halloween Contest.
I would like to enter this profile into the Halloween Contest.
Vampirewitch39 Royal Sire (204) Posts: 1,062 Honor: 25,994 [ Give / Take ] |
If you wrote a story on your profile, please post the entry here.
That way it is entered as a story as well.
Double your chances of winning!
This profile.
Untitled
My restless spirit wants to move on from this place
But something won’t let me
Disembodied, ghostly
Do you remember the days of old,
The glory days?
The wonder and awe of living?
Sold me a dream can’t you see?
The stark differences beyond the veal
Remember when you used to love me?
Just a ghost to you now, invisible
But here I stay as my hope fades
Short Story
My best friend got mad at me last Halloween. Wow, did I ever screw up.
Last Halloween my best friend’s family had a get together. Family and very close friends only. I felt special that I was invited. His whole family was there. His parents, his younger brother, cousins, aunts, uncles, some of their friends. Several people I didn’t know, but I was introduced to several that day. And his sister. His sister.
His sister was a year younger than us, but she was always cute. As we grew older I noticed she matured a little faster than we did. Then she developed into a real beauty. If I didn’t come around to the house for a while, suddenly catching a glimpse of her when I did would take the air right out of me. She was naturally stunning to behold. I became nervous around her, unable to talk to her. But that was years ago. I wasn’t nervous around her at all this day.
Which is unfortunate. I admit I was bold; too bold. I made my way easily around the gathering, acting like I belonged there. People stopped noticing me, I was so casual about my surroundings. When I thought no one was looking, thinking I was alone, I got caught sniffing her panties.
Caught by my best friend.
What made it worse was that she was still wearing them.
Man, did that ever make the rest of her funeral awkward.
Vampirewitch39 Royal Sire (204) Posts: 1,062 Honor: 25,994 [ Give / Take ] |
Yeah!!! Thank you both.
Few more days folks. Closes Tuesday at midnight.
- Whispers of the Gothic Night -
In the heart of a forsaken realm, where the moon casts no silver gleam,
A tale of woe and dread unfolds, in the shadows of a gothic dream,
Beneath the crumbling towers and statues draped in creeping vine,
Lies a cursed land of eternal night, where the damned souls entwine.
Here, a haunted castle looms, its spires piercing the ink-black sky,
Its stone walls seeping melancholy, where forlorn spirits endlessly sigh,
Ivy, like an ageless memory, clings to the morose facade,
Within its depths, a tale of horror, where despair is ever clad.
Moss-covered tombs, like sentinels, stand in the moon's mournful glow,
Their epitaphs, forgotten whispers of those who rest below,
In the churchyard, where the silence is a heavy, chilling shroud,
The specters of the cursed haunt the graves, their voices soft, yet loud.
The chapel, a place of unholy rites, where crimson candles flicker low,
Within, the altar waits, adorned with sacrifices in a midnight show,
A convocation of phantoms, with hollow eyes of desolation,
Offer homage to the shadows, in a cursed congregation.
The forest that surrounds, an ancient, gnarled, and twisted wood,
Is home to beasts unseen, their roars like the growls of the misunderstood,
Beneath the boughs, the lost souls wander, seeking solace in the gloom,
Trapped in this nightmarish thicket, where the trees conceal their doom.
Within the manor's hallways, cold drafts whisper chilling verses,
In the dim candlelight, portraits on the walls mutter mournful curses,
Specters glide in a haunting dance, their gowns of tattered lace,
Twisting in a macabre waltz, they yearn for an escape.
A chamber sealed for ages past, hides a secret ever darker,
A cryptic, ancient passage, an abyss of endless ardor,
Where demons from forgotten realms, their eyes filled with despair,
Wait for the unsuspecting soul to wander into their snare.
So in this gothic nightmare, where despair and torment breed,
Beware the manor's chilling depths, where the darkest secrets feed,
For once ensnared within its grasp, you'll find no escape from here,
Your soul, forever imprisoned, in this realm of ceaseless fear.
Can you see me
Floating above my head
As I lay there in the bed
Lifeless and still
You’re thinking everything
That you did not say
That you did not do
When we had
Another moment or two
You do not see
It does not dawn
Dead isn’t gone
Can you see me
Floating above your head
As you lay there in our bed
Reaching in mourn
You’re dreaming everything
That you did not say
That you did not do
Wishing for just
Another moment or two
You do not know
Your dreams my pawn
Dead isn’t gone
Can you hear me
Whispering into your mind
As you deny your confined
Lifeless and still
You’re regretting everything
That you did not say
That you did not do
Hoping for just
A moment or two
You do not feel
My breath you’re drawn
Dead isn’t gone
Can you hear me
Whispering into your mind
As you submit, your confined
Lost in mourn
You’re trapped in everything
That you did not say
That you did not do
Grasping for just
A moment or two
You begin to see
It begins to dawn
Dead isn’t gone
You can feel me
Floating above your skin
As you lay within your grin
Your body supine
You’re accepting everything
That you did not say
That you did not do
Yearning for just
Another moment or two
Your dreams my pawn
Dead isn’t gone
You can feel me
Floating above your skin
As you succumb to your sin
Your body limp
There is nothing left
That you did not say
That you did not do
As you lay in bed
Floating above your head
With me you belong
Dead isn’t gone.
~Cirque du Illusio~
Come and sit a spell, warm yourself by the fire while I spin a tale for you. Fall is the time of warm ciders, haunted houses and hayrides, candied apples and Jack-o-lanterns; a time of practical jokes, scares and spooks. It is also a time of change, when the leaves turn and dry, the air shifts and cools, there is such magic in the turning of the seasons; as life begins its long slumber. For this is when the borders between the world of the living and the realm of spirits thin and blur…where it fades.
There is one such place where the veil is thin and the spirits gather. At the edge of a forest there is a small trail that appears before curious travelers. Soft echoes of music and laughter dance amongst the trees as scents of buttery popcorn and treats float within gentle breezes. Following as it beckons they press on deeper and deeper, not knowing that as they traverse the path they are slowly slipping from what is stark into what is ethereal. As the sounds grow clearer, louder and the scents grow stronger, washing over them they lose the perception of time as it no longer exists here.
Coming upon a great opening amidst the trees they see the lights and the signs welcoming them, the great tent, the food stalls scattered along the outer ring, the games littered across the field, the majestic animals in their cages, the smiling faces of children eating their treats, aweing at the sights. Families, friends and lovers being wooed by the Fortune Teller, the acrobats as they fly, the clowns as they play their tricks and skits. Longing to be part of it all they pay the toll and join in the frolicking; eating and drinking and laughing all while being wooed and lured themselves.
Lost in the frivolities they fail to notice the eyes of the Ringmaster and his cirkies on them; watching every move and gesture, every bite and swallow, every gluttonous lick of a lip and finger. The fortune teller spies into her crystal ball and her fingers dance over the cards as she pulls them further beguiling them with promises of some great and lofty purpose in their future. The juggler astounds them with his feats of tossing and catching flaming objects and sharp blades. The game masters and vendors all sway and lull them into further gluttony; buy, eat, drink, stay just a little longer, have your fill and then some! Smiles stretch too thin…too wide as they bait them into sticking around for the big show.
As the sun sets along the west horizon, the lights shine bright, the horns blow, as the curtains to the grand tent slowly pull back and the lost souls enter and fill the arena. One by one the clowns come out, laughing and playing, taking their turns at the captive audience. The aerialists fly and plunge, making the onlookers' hearts plunge and beat with them as they ohh and ahh. Elephants play and lions roar, at the crack of the whip and the rise and fall of the claps and cheers. On and on the show goes on, a never ending escapade of thrills and chills, wonders and sights. Night turns to day, turns to night and then back to day, but as I said time fails to be relevant here. In this slippage the lost fail to see that they are fading, waning, becoming thin as the creatures of this show do feast, slowly sipping from them all that they are.
Silence falls as the Ringmaster takes his place upon the platform, his arms stretching as wide as his toothy smile. His boney pet contorting and slinking to his side, her eyes sunken, her nails rotting, he strokes her brittle, dark hair and smiles as the audience uncomfortably shifts. Raising his arms once more the rest of the cirkies appear and the illusions slowly fade. The bright lights of the circus dim and flicker, the colorful tent and outfits lose their brilliance and dinge takes its place, years of rot and tatter..decay set in. Gone are the happy facades of the Ringmaster and his crones, instead they see them for who and what they really are, starving, predatory, It is in the here and now that they come to realize as everything slowly rots around them that in fulfilling their gluttonous desires they have condemned themselves.
Weakened and unable to move, unable to scream, left with no choices but to watch as the Circus closes in on them for the final feed, the big finale as it were…they are left knowing that this is the never ending cycle, the cycle of their own lives, their own greed, their own pious desires. Their lights dim as the great gaping maw swallows. Is this the end? No, not for them and not for anyone that finds their way here, this is just the beginning as they join the Cirque du Illusio, drawing more and more in, to come and continue the cycle, the insatiable craving and hunger that never ends.
Vampirewitch39 Royal Sire (204) Posts: 1,062 Honor: 25,994 [ Give / Take ] |
For those who waited till the last hours...it's time!
Thank you to everyone who has entered. Remember to leave your profiles up till all 3 judges have reviewed them, winner announced.
Thank you for making the contest a success.