This is a Novella for those 15 plus or older. Please don't read if under 15 years of age.


I can feel my inner chest vibrations, my heart beat slows to the fan's motor relaxing to a stop, the whirling of the blades matching the thumping of my....
" Are you writing a new poem" Alesha asks quizzing, trying to take a peep at my latest attempt at creative writing.
" Maybe, maybe not, probably another short story with my bleakest of endings in an attempt to make you so not happy all the time!" I exclaim teasingly, knowing she will take the bait and read it, once its completed. I may even throw in a couple of references to her just to **** with her vanity.
" Don't you get sick of the food here?", I ask her rather straight up. " We come here all the time. I know you like it because its cheaper than the food courts and fairly tasty but after awhile, it just becomes the same old ****......"
" Nah, its filling, cheap and I don't need to eat anything else until dinner time"
she exclaims back.
" Five days in a row, I would **** for a fresh mee go......."

Before I could finish the sentence, all the chatter around me silenced and every-one freezed up, an entire bus station full of people, like someone pressed pause on a ******* remote, only this is not net-flix but real life. Alesha was in the middle of biting her right thumb and paused right on cue with everyone else"

I look around me and everyone are statues caught motionless in flight of what they were doing. A guy pauses in the newsagency flicking through a ***** magazine while the newsagent guy smirks at him. I would normally laugh at such a thing but when the world pauses on its axis and you're the only one moving, its not exactly........
Before I could finish the thought, my heart starts slowing down to a rhythm of a fan's motor bearing I can suddenly hear, my breathing gets slower and slower and my heart beat becomes faint.
I can't move my head from looking down at my chest but I can feel a presence in the shadows where lighting has failed in the last few days. I can turn my eyes up just to make out slightly visible glowing eyes but the face is obscured of this being about 15 metres away where the cleaners room is tucked out of the way.
He speaks suddenly and in a way that he sounds possessed like Linda Blair from The Exorcist, only in a much deeper voice, almost echoing....
" Choose the sacrifice or I will choose for you!"
All of a sudden I can move my head and my right hand. From the shadows, I can see a ghostly finger pointing right at Alesha. I can't speak but I'm thinking, **** she's only 23, just a kid yet to live her life and this ****** knows I am going to choose someone else but either way my conscious is going to be killing me.
The guy looking at the **** mag looks creepy and shady to me so I'm thinking, what the ****. He's about 57 and probably a pervert so........
What about the old lady sitting by herself eating a bowl of terrayki chicken, she looks about 87, no spring chicken and probably suffers and ready to die. I continue to look around and notice a dove eating food scraps and I take a chance and point at it but the shadowy creepy finger waves horizontally pretty much saying " Nice try, ******* but its a human body, I need to devour, not a ******* Dove you smart-***"

All of a sudden, my heart beat starts to get faster and adrenaline rushes through my veins and everything fades to black........

I feel a knocking on the side of my head. " Ryan, you need to try to sleep more at night, you've been passed out for 10 minutes and its time to go back to work"
I look around me, the guy reading **** is getting a really good eye full and still alive, like a peepshow flapper & the dove is still eating my left over chicken, cannibalistic little **** that it is and......the old lady.
Her head lays on the table with her face facing the opposite side of me. Her chest is not moving, she's as still as a corpse.
" That old lady, Alesha.......I think she's dead"
" Nah, she's just a lazy old ***** like you, let her rest!" she says back, only I'm not in on the joke. I approach the other side of the lady and her face looks like the life has been totally ****** out of her like the **** scene in Nightmare on Elm Street 4 where Freddy ***** face in class. Her face is purple and ****** in, like a skeleton.
Alesha sees my alarmed shocked look and starts to walk over. I intervene and tell her I can hear her snoozing, I thought she was dead but everything's fine"
I escort her back to the table and tell her I need to visit the bathroom, only I'm much more interested in the darkness where the cleaner's room is.
I walk slowly up to the hallway and enter the enveloping shadows and slowly creep all the way to where I saw the pointed finger.

Oddly, there is an antique mirror at the end of the hallway where the shadowy figure was standing. I look into the mirror and only see myself staring back at me. The veneer wood surrounding of the mirror looks positively ancient and has one of those old Hammer film vibes about it.
Then I see it, a ghostly image of a young girl in it, a chill goes right through me as this girl does not lively at all. Lights start flickering around the mirror, electricity zaps me as I touch the mirror.
She then looks at me with a twisted grin of a smirt of pure horror and evil.
" I told you to choose, you're lucky I chose the old *****", she snorts in a demonic voice."
"Am I you or are you am I?" she remarks back and this time, the image in the mirror is that of me as a baby boy, only the image fades like a reflection in a puddle being belted by a storm"
" Don't make me choose again, the fate will be a wrench to your guts!!"

Everything fades to black again, as I pass out for the second time. I feel a trinkle of a nose bleed just before the lights fade to black.....
My heart beat slows down to the whir of a fan's bearing getting slower and slower.....
Like a deer caught in the headlights, a facade in a mirror, a carnival of deceit where the lunatics are running the show.
I dream of I'm a boy being held under in a bath-tub, my heart beat getting slower and slower as his hands gush about and that motor of the fan's bearing getting slower but whooshing louder and strangely, towards the end a inner peace as I float face down. I can't feel my heart beating but my conscious still contemplates a hill where the carnival came to town, and I sneaked in after closing hours, watching the crowds dispersed and the freak show of associated carnival eccentrics migrate to their tents, like drill ants in a set motion like mindless zombies.

TBC. Part 3: Twisted Grimaces of The Carnival  - Coming soon.
This part will be something special, a mind-shattering David Lynch like fever of nightmares and pleasant dreams wrapped in Bon Appetite blood, scars and stitches.

Indulging in the flash, caustic symbolism
No barriers block my path, of hatred guided fury
To escape this mortal life, an underworld destiny
Obsessed seed to mutilate, this religious tyranny

Make them die...
SLOWLY!!

I am called Pariah, bathing in sin
Bring forth the righteous pigs, I shall have their skin
Living for dying, what more can you ask?
My hunger grows stronger, lusting to see
The children of heaven, begging for mercy
I shall make them die, slowly

Die, slowly, now you feel the pain! (The Pain)

Tied down, chained up. locked in place
Cut up. gored out, stabbed in the face
Transfix, crucifix, to Christ you cry
Eyeless, mortified, sacrilegiously putrefied

I have seen through the seven gates
My prophecy of Darkness, killing Christians
And my lust for holy, human flesh
I make them watch their master die
The ******* son, Jesus Christ mordaciously... ...CRUCIFIEDI

I see the blood in your veins
As you look me in the eye
Metaphorically, because you don't
Have eyes,
Or theoretically, because you don't exist?
Nineteen years and I still
Find myself clawing
At that gray patch of sky
Six feet above
Nineteen years, and all my blood
Beats perfectly in sync with yours
Programmed, metric
The heart of the company
Nineteen years,
And the stains of ink blotting
Lines and stanzas on my page
Feel too much to bear
Like birds in the wind
Tumbleweeds
Like the maltodextrin nightmare
Bleeding from the scrape on my knee
Like the words I didn't say
Couldn't say
Dear Audience,
The last of myself
I may ever bear witness to
Bled out in the arms of a
Character I played

As daylight dies the night falls—
Like a widow’s veil
And dark lacquered walls turn lilac,
By the pale of moonlight,
I wail in howling thrusts
Lycanthropic ******* sounds
As fangs pang a hunger
Vibrating in concerto,
Down to the core erupting like Vesuvius
I lament with lavish tongue licking lips.

A lich, courage upon the rift
As the stars, they shift
Patterns to illustrate the cosmic maw
In awe, enthralled, nocturnal
Heading the barn owl’s call
I am but a man undone
Remade chimera,
He’ll hound and bound to burn
But here I yearn among the tenebrous limbs of deadened trees
In a forest that whispers my dreams

I lament, in hopes the sun will shine
And char my unfeeling flesh
I digress, as the meat will keep
In the cold I breathe
A toast to thee! In ichor filled glass
Silken sanguine liquid kissing my throat
Coating organs to feign alive.

I, one of the children of the night,
Shall sing you lullabies
With the sweet music that I make!

As the Mordant liquor of tears
Inspire spirits—
I’ll drink in rousing cheers
For an eternity that better eluded me
Until I found the western shore,

I am the storm,
Godspeed on the devil’s thunder,
I come as primal, a beast reborn.

Behold this sand of time
As the shores of despair
Roll in to sneak it into the depths
Dark is the abyss of a sleepless dream
Where madness is one name away

Dare you speak it

Cthulhu

Wrap me in your endless tendril maw,
Devour soul from flesh
And discard the pickled husk
Let me fade away in shadow
To see your grace,
O’ Old one

Spread madness in a holy word
Eviscerate this world —
Feed it to the void and all its twilit chaos

And then I wake —
Somewhere between a dream and a distant realm
I will come as a herald,
To ring the end of timelines
To bind my mind to singularity.

My fate is my own,
Under the huntress moon,
Into the valiant sun,
‘Cross the diamond caves of night
And the blue oceans of day
I will not be misled.

To that which is felt
                        Heard
                        Seen
                        Anticipated
                        
The chord within a Hammer Horror
Scored in a “diminished fifth”
Which
When conducted
Emits a frequency that
                             Walks through walls

For those I hate
******* hell
Beneath the skin
An open wound
Thirsty for blood
Hunger for flesh
Scattered carnage
Wriggling torsos
Pungent, infested disease
Brain candy for dessert
Vomiting repugnance
To die again

See me hitch, retching, and spit
An awful glob of blackened, steaming bile
A bug writhes, dying slow in the poison
Like a man whose back is pierced with a blade
I fear this is no disease in my guts
Rather waste from my pustulating self

I am clawing at my self
Cracking open a stomach full of spit
My fingers stained with the soot from my guts
And corroded through in the pitch black bile
Using my teeth like a serrated blade
My tongue stings, awash in the dark poison

It maddens me, this poison
How it managed to fester in my self
Slowly it formed like a thousand fold blade
It mingled and covered my teeth like spit
Ate away at something, this awful bile
And made its home, coating my writhing guts

As I sit scrying my guts
I must not hide the proof in this poison
I manufactured this brackish, black bile
Allowed it to well up within my self
To weaponize, to defensively spit
A subtler offense than any crude blade

In the ground I ****** the blade
Preparing to spill the rest of my guts
And I see others, smiles leaking spit
Slurries and suspensions of the poison
The byproduct of our worship of self
This self-absolving, all-filling black bile

I cannot remove the bile
Someone else and better must wield the blade
I must submit all control over self
Submit to the pain of purging my guts
The sound of my head landing in poison
My hair with the bugs in puddles of spit

As it stands, the bile still leaks from my guts
I've met the blade yet not kicked the poison
And my self, I keep a mouth full of spit