Help Me... Help Me...



Another one of my projects from my class... This one was a bit of a challenge as well, as it had to fit into a small area on a postcard.

Magdalene,

You will never believe what happened to me last night. Even now, my comprehension wavers. At first, my evening began as expected. I was cautiously transiting the hollow near the abandoned priory. The dreariness was oppressing, and yes before you ask, the mysterious history of the area populated my mind. I did not imagine this! I am not crazy! Believe me, when I tell you, I saw the dark shrouded figure along the side of the road, clambering on recess of the berm.

The sheets of rain and hail pierced my Falcon; I could only imagine how the howling winds were battering him. I had to stop; lend assistance. As I crept toward the solemnly cloaked figure, the repressing atmosphere grew heavy; the temperature plummeted. There was no face! There was only lifeless shell of a man. I looked into the abyss and saw Hell.  I looked into the abyss and saw myself. In a flash, he was gone! Stunned. Alone. Confused, I had to go, something was wrong.

That is when the swiftness of his blade crept toward my head. What the hell? This man of cloth tried to kill me, but his vane was painless when it broke through my neck. Was he there? Or, am I crazy? No, I know what I saw; I am not crazy!  Magdalene, you know me, I am not insane. Unique, maybe, but not insane. Shaken, overdrive kicked in and I made haste. I did not stop until I was secured inside my apartment. Petrified, frozen in this dank alcove, my will to live has vanished. I need you, I love you; please help me!       

- Martin

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Who Are You?

Image
Now that I am totally rewriting my zombie epic, it seems as though I have a lot of extra poetic verse that will not be making it into the project. While in some ways this is a bit disappointing, it definitely gives me a lot of stuff that I can post on here. Please give this a look, any and all feedback will be appreciated. Who are you, my vision of beauty? You still seem so familiar to me I feel as if I can sense your every move Experience your every fear I can see you standing there Trembling at the horrid sight before you Did one of my brothers do that? Do I need to ask? Alas, the bridge to the promised land Our union… Our destiny… Our reality ahead I saw this in one of your dreams dear The yellow towers rising from the depths of the rapids The dark mouth opening ahead of me It is just as you described… It is perfect Where are you taking me? Why am I following you? There it is again… My hunger Others must be closing in I must… I must...
Read more

Triskaidekaphobia - An Ode to the Truths of Friday the 13th

Such a dark day in the world Leaders defiled The protectors destroyed in your name Not by the masses that follow But, from the hypocrisy of medieval royalty For what - your secrets? Jealousy? Fear? Maybe it was just their shame from following the false prophet The sinner who hid behind his disciples And worse, women and children Spouting lies of redemption Preaching abstinence instead of indulgence Creating turmoil in the perfect world Through it all, you stood tall These destroyers of forged faith were blind Failing to harness the power of your minions By creating a day of homage of their transgressions They granted you eternal life History crying tears of truths in your name You will never be forgotten You Baphomet, will live forever Like the Templar’s, your followers will bleed for you Carrying on the traditions past down by the strong Your enigma, a mystery to most A companion to some A day of fear to the meek That day is today, Friday the 13th
Read more

What Have We Done?

Image
Even after listening to that tape for the umpteenth time, I cannot fathom what he was experiencing. It all seems so unreal, impossible, there is no way anyone could survive in that state, let alone be cognizant to what was happening. These creatures, there is no way that they could feel anything; they were undead, I think. Maybe I should say thought. In researching the events, I stumbled across some documentation involving the scientists that may be responsible for this outbreak. It seems as though they were conducting some apparently over-funded yet secretive experiments similar to the ones conducted at Montauk so many years ago. Ironically, the results, while similar, had a much deadlier outcome. Unfortunately, the agency that funded these organized torture sessions is not readily available, a fact that drives my research. The truth must be told. From one of the office files of the floating laboratory, I found this transcript. Now, I may never share how this document reached my h...
Read more