We know death is out there somewhere and that we'll have to meet it one day. The question and the fear always revolves around the 'when' of the meeting.
The shadow is always waiting
The draft of its suction
A wind that drags at me
It dances for my eyes
Flexing taut muscles
Sinuous and flowing
Hypnotic, mesmerizing
It exudes a scent
That sets my skin on edge
Quivering for its touch
It mimics moisture
And succulence
And salivation begins
I’m like Pavlov’s dogs
Can you hear it?
It’s whispering again
Making me promises
And it won’t stop
Until I’ve gone down to death.
SMT 11/15/01
In the end they'll all be dancin'--all them ones that didn't die.... Dance with me in the shadows amidst the lightning and the thunder, and all that nu-cu-lar debris. See the big bang from the other side, and then open that cellar door. Go down into
The Butcher's Boy
- 2011 Readers Favorite Award Silver Medal Winner in Horror - Fiction
A Paranormal/Chiller by Michael Robb
Thirty-one years ago, Buxly the Butcher went to trial for killing h
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