White Van!

It had always been a quiet and safe area to live

until that winter’s night the white van arrived

the house next door had been empty a decade

it was a mess untouched since the owner died

under odd circumstances an unsolved fatality

it was said of an exceptional brutality!

 

Very little was taken in observed with curiosity

but thought there was a coffin maybe more

not having night vision binoculars so not certain

decided maybe best to keep my distance

later a dark limousine glided onto the driveway

that early morning felt very cold was Sunday!

 

A year since the new neighbours came to stay

never met them just glimpses in the dark

that icy sensation has remained never warm

my dog has not stopped growling at the fence

always cats roaming in my garden now none

everybody in the area that house did shun!

 

Reluctantly living next door could not escape

never came out in those daylight hours

windows covered never any external painting

becoming a district everybody feared to live

even worse folk of all ages started to disappear

arising from when the neighbours came here!

 

Used to know many families living in the area

but the parents just vanished from view

more disturbing their children came next door

what was going on tried to speak to them

gave blank stares yet none acknowledged me

something was wrong then could not see!

 

It had been such a lovely area born and bred

in the same house but now the only one left

ringed with misery and death so oppressive

since the white van had brought the vampires

how my life had changed keeping a step ahead

not wanting to become another undead!

 

Had a enough with friends decided to fight back

who were interested and believed in the occult

while searching the internet for information

had found a site of a vampire slayer named Tia

from that initial contact the alliance was created

determined to stop the living being desecrated!

 

The confrontation would be long but we must not lose!

 

#TheFoureyedPoet.

 

 

 

Monstrous!

Years after the monstrous events had passed

the buildings a vile reminder

of the atrocities thrust upon an innocent people

nothing stirred no birds sang

not even insects wanted to go anywhere near

only the ghosts were still here!

 

Though empty in a dilapidated condition today

deep depression fills the area

surrounding lands and air stifling oppressive

bombarded by unseen whispers

you are unable to imagine or even comprehend

to such depravity did descend!

 

Seemingly miles of rusting barbed wire fences

guard towers peering down

on long rotting wooden huts many destroyed

brutality treated subhuman

images seen by the world from not so long ago

lessons not learned we know!

 

Here lay the families their last resting place

generations obliterated

denied their birth right a chance to exist

through the tribulations and joy

degradation and death their ghosts remain

of the people who were slain!

 

Onward the butchery of those who want peace!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

 

 

 

Hell Cave!

Deep dank low and dark narrow tunnels

eventually led to the altar

where devil worship had been practiced

within its cold lonely interior

unspeakable deeds and sacrifices given

the one they seeked had risen!

 

This was what had been told of hell cave

carved out of the hard granite

split in chambers claustrophobic and cold

part of an evil rich mans club

women brought here as part of their fun

from the light of gods sun!

 

With many deaths spirits were trapped

unable to find that peace

the present owners would not divulge

if it was still used for the occult

on those days doors were locked tight

when only a few had an invite!

 

Several times a month ghost hunters

were freely allowed to roam

entering into an oppressive domain

to seek the tortured souls

manikin’s depicting passed events

in the void your fears it vents!

 

Looking like ghosts ready to pounce

the cave sloping downwards

narrowing as you reach the final part

where the altar is situated

in the centre of a circle used for magic

for victims the ending tragic!

 

In this atmosphere the group staying

were subjected to screams

voices around them and objects throne

high electro magnetic readings

even though the electricity was not on

the possibility of contact strong!

 

Adding to the rise and drop in temperature

making them feel unwanted

and a shape of a human seen and captured

on an infra-red still camera

were glad when dawn came and could leave

exhausted it was a reprieve!

 

As they left to check all the evidence collected

on the experiences reflected!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

 

 

 

Morgue!

It seemed an inexplicable place even for the dead!

 

Grave yard shift was never the favourite to get

even to the senior technician

he could easily recall many strange events

but on this particular shift

it would change his conception of reality

that none could foresee!

 

The only morgue in the small state county

based in the town hospital

always busy yet this night unusually quiet

then a telephone message

telling them a corpse was to be delivered

for some reason both shivered!

 

Just two on duty upon this dreaded shift

and five silent guests

one lay under a white sheet for an autopsy

early the coming morn

the new arrival would upset the ambience

the pressure becoming intense!

 

Around mid night the swing doors burst open

their new guest wheeled in

quickly placed in the allotted storage fridge

awaiting the duty pathologist

no details given even the paper work lacking

unanswered questions stacking!

 

That oppressive awareness began to mutate

retreating to the rest room

for a well-earned break at the mid night hour

soon a tapping sound heard

reverberating like a drum through corridors

their conversation on pause!

 

It stopped for a while then started once more

like a fist knocking on a door

reluctantly decided to investigate the source

as the noise wearily persisted

both re-entered the dimly lit autopsy room

they glared into the gloom!

 

Just as it went quiet again standing shaking

nothing looked disturbed

relieved turned there was a very loud bang

ran to the doorway before

daring to see it was the fridge open wide

the one with the body inside!

 

Neither of them wanting to move nearer

but were curious to view

even in the blue-tinted night lighting

could see the tray empty

on the tiled floor the abandoned body bag

along with the name tag!

 

Where had it gone more knocking began

it was definitely in front

uncertain of what was actually happening

headed for the only exit

could not escape their door passes failed

within their work place jailed!

 

Plunged into darkness something approached

as the emergency lighting

came on they were confronted by a woman

in her chest a gaping wound

how could she be alive the last words expelled

as to the ground were felled!

 

One managed badly wounded to crawl away

hitting the fire alarm button

waking in the casualty unit shaken in pain

but certain he was still alive

chaos surrounded him and he knew why

the thing that could not die!

 

It had escaped what had been unleashed on society

He suddenly began to feel unwell!

 

The Fouretyed Poet.

 

 

 

 

Narrow Lane!

Even as a young child the narrow lane

was a place of  fear!

I’m never at ease when I come back

and travel the route.

Nothing has changed that I can tell

a path to a dark spell!

 

My parents farm is situated at the end

called hangman’s noose!

Which made me curious why this name

had always been used.

Often I’d seen a young woman walking

but faded as I tried talking!

 

My friends had seen her to and reluctant

to tread that path again!

None of the locals ventured along there

the superstition ran deep!

Strangers often took the wrong turning

tyre rubber soon burning!

 

Though not all got safely back on track

some swerved and crashed.

Into an old tree halfway along the lane

none of them survived!

Stories written of malevolent forces

told to me by reliable sources!

 

Never in my memory did I ever feel alone

going down the narrow lane!

Oppressive and barren voices in the breeze

my parents still live there.

They knew more of its past than they’d say

our ancestors under the lane lay!

 

My father only said for sinful deeds they’d done!

this will be your curse to son!

 

What these were the answers I’ve yet to discover!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

First Visit!

Entering that nice neat new bungalow

made my hair stand on end.

Never lived in before the paint still wet

this my first visit to view.

Detached and sat at the edge of a farm

it had a certain charm.

 

The sense of foreboding as I walked in

that estate agent unperturbed.

Seemed completely focused on  her job

keen to get her commission.

For myself it was hard to finish the tour

my eyes stared at the lounge door!

 

Gazing in the hallway to me a figure stood

only for a second or two.

I blinked and it was gone from my sight

strangely then the door shut!

The woman heard the noise and smiled

saying the kitchen was newly tiled.

 

I could take no more and got outside

where it was less oppressive.

I surveyed the tranquil country scene

in the garden I saw a girl.

Then it became still a face at the window

and within depressed and low!

 

Was it a dreadful event from a time before

had taken place here?

Then I knew I could never be happy here

made my excuses and left.

Searching later the history that was written

a girl and her boyfriend were smitten.

 

On this ground had caught her man cheating

with another maiden.

In a rage she had brutally killed them both

was put on trial and hanged!

Had I tuned into their horrible demise

seeing their tortured spirits rise?

 

Or was there something more sinister at work?

 

The Foureyed Poet.

Published in: on 20/11/2012 at 13:47  Leave a Comment  
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