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Showing posts from August, 2016

Trail of Teeth

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As a child, I was always curious of mysterious places around where I lived in my rural small town in Nebraska.  I loved hearing about scary stories and urban legends.  Sitting around a campfire listening to campfire stories was one of my favorite past times.  There was just something about listening to tales of serial killers, vengeful spirits, monsters,  and demons that always filled me with excitement and joy.  I laughed at the other camp students as they became scared by these stories and loved the thrills they gave me.  I was always the first to sit down at a campfire during the summer nights to hear a campfire story.  There was one story one night that was told to be true and was the story that ignited my curiosity with my old campgrounds.  
     The story told of a man who lived in the nearby woods in a small cabin and would kidnap kids from camp sites and would murder them back in his cabin and use their bodies as furniture.  But since the man was fairly terrible of keeping…

Ashford Manor

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*Artwork by Ace The Killer and Brodie Hancroft*
The flames of what was left forgotten, this is what encompassed Ashford Manor in its final moment.  The rise of smoke and ashes in the air sealed the fate of the Trickster and the princess, forever separating them both from each other.  One left to die, one to never feel the sweet kiss of death, both of them were separated by the princess's groom to be.  The wedding would never be, and the story of the Trickster was forever hidden so that no one could see....until now.  As this tale once belonged only to the whispers of time, the mention of this story has been kept secret until this very moment.  For you, reader, are the one who uncovered the origins of the man who exists beyond death and life, the man who sucks the life out of anyone ensnared in his trap, the one known as the Trickster of Ashford Manor.  
This all dates back to the early day of the first English kingdoms.  There was a princess from one of the kingdoms who was destine…

Beyond the Reveal

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*Warning*
This poem contains very disturbing content and horrific topics.  If you do not feel that you can withstand torture, then please leave this post now.  



I awoke in the night, Surrounded by dark walls. In the center of the room, I saw you on a white blanket, The one I loved.
I watched you from beyond, From beyond the barrier. You cut yourself and, through gritted teeth, smiled as the blood flowed.
"Why?  Why would you do this?" My questions fell on deaf ears. Every time I knocked on the barrier She picked up the knife, Carving another mark.
"Please stop!  You're killing yourself!" She continued on.  Every time... Every time I begged, she sliced. Every tear that fell, she diced. She continued cutting her flesh.
The blood continued to pour out. Tears formed in my eyes,  And through the barrier, She showed a smile through her tears. Always smiling, even through the pain.
Her happy expression only grew,  Her torment increasing her appetite. "Please...stop."  My pleas grew hus…

No Answer

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I called out to you during your
Time of need.  Strung my heart
Out for you, bore it on my sleeve.
You broke it.

I trusted you with my life,
Sacrificed what I would need for you.
I gave you everything I had.
No response.

I called you for a date
I took the time to set it all up
Everything was ready, but you.
You left no answer

I went to your house.
I hoped somewhere in your heart,
You hadn't betrayed my trust.
You broke it.

In your bed, you were lying
With another man, trust was gone.
I stared in disbelief at you
No response.

I was infuriated, you lied with him,
My best friend, someone I trusted.
I asked you both why.
No answer.

He forced me out of the room
He asked my reasons for being here
You never told him about me.
My ribcage, he broke it.

My best friend was beating me to death
Someone I knew all my life
Now wanted me dead.
You gave no response.

You watched on and smiled
A smile so wicked that it changed me
A smile that was devoid of any sympathy.
You left me with no answer.

I…

Kola: The Forgotten Door To Hell

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"The Kola Hole", this was the place my father warned me in his final moments to never travel to.  Ever since I was a little girl, I always had to look out for my father.  He was one of the workers who helped in drilling the Kola hole in West Siberia, one of the biggest projects ever conducted by man.  During the later years of the Kola Hole project, my father joined on as one of the technicians helping to drill down into the Earth's crust, further exposing the rock and water that lay kilometers below the surface of the earth.  
     More than twelve kilometers down, a hole made by Russian scientists was made to try to make it to the center of the Earth.  The project itself was the most daring expedition ever devised by a government to dig down into the Earth.  New instruments for drilling into the Earth's crust had to be invented, entire systems and towns were built to keep the hole from collapsing and to keep the project ongoing.  Over the course of nearly two d…

Smile For Me

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*Warning!  This story is particularly disturbing to some viewers.  Regardless of age or background, viewer discretion is advised.*
      I'm not one to start believing in the existence of occult rituals, cursed beings, and demonic forces, but if there was ever one who could have convinced me otherwise, it would have been my captor from all those years ago.  I had met him at a carnival.  He was working one of the performance tents and performed illusions for a passing crowd of carnival goers.  I had gone to the carnival with my older cousin Gerald at the time.  My mother thought that since he was sixteen, he would help make sure I got home safe.  As irritated as I was at her for doubting my abilities to protect my own safety, I obeyed her.  After all, it wasn't every day that you had a carnival like this in town.  
      Gerald and I decided to walk to the carnival rather than take his worn out bicycle.  My mother had given us a little bit of money to get in and have fun.  We pai…

Visiting The Green Asylum

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