A place to keep tales and thoughts

The city is a dangerous place.

2005-09-30T00:23:17Z

Done for the adroit_ink community, the theme was 'the city'. Done in about 8 days.

Warning this story contains dark themes and violence.

The City is a Dangerous Place.

She has been in the city for a couple of weeks. The nicotine stained wallpaper is embalmed to the wall. Unknown colours from various fluids stain the sink in the corner. Fighting a losing battle against the decor is the bright yellow cloth covering the dressing table. Photos of her family and friends fight for attention on the table's small surface. A great slab of wood shields her from the outside, where similar of slabs of wood conceal the shadows that flitter through this corpse of a building. She stands there staring at her new chains. Her work uniform is cut from a cheap synthetic textile. It is weakly coloured to resemble the decor of the place, where eight hours of her life are stolen daily from her five days a week.

A coating of exhaust ash on the painted closed windows filters the the sign light and mixes uneasily with the flickering light from the cheap light bulb which is contemplating suicide. The noises from the cars in the street create an arrhythmic symphony of hostile sound overwhelming the radio at full volume in her room. She slithers into her cheap uniform sliding around until it feels comfortable. One size too small on purpose, it is never really too comfortable. With her keys in her 2 dollar shop bag, She slams the door behind her. The one thing that keeps the world out clicks makes a loud metallic thunk.

The carpet squelches beneath her feet. It could be blood, it could be mud, it could be any number of fluids she really doesn't want to think about. The halls are unadorned. Most the the buildings inhabitants are asleep or out doing their usual nocturnal activities. She walks past the tarnished elevator doors with the bullet holes. This thing has never worked since she got here but the three flights of dirty steel stairs have done the job well.

Behind nicotine stained glass and a haze of cigarette smoke is the building super. Fading in and of the smoke she can make out this unshaven jaw and his penetrating stare. His clothes seem to blend in with the smoke leaving a leering disembodied head. She is glad she doesn't need to talk to him today. The doors that once kept the world out have succumbed to the fate of many things in this city. One day they were there the next they weren't and no one really misses them.

The street she walks down is infested with dirt and refuse. Here she sees women and men who have walked the same path that she is walking. Their eyes are empty and they move unconsciously through the streets. They know every corner, every sign, every footstep. They all work at a job like her. They all serve some kind of cruel master who works the life out of them. She came here for a change, she left the boredom she felt was choking her. She came to the city for new opportunities, a hope for something better. All she found was the opportunity be be used.

The restaurant she works for is some kind of chain. The sign is too dirty to make out and she is paid cash every Thursday. Colour that once shone on the walls is all but dead. Suffocated by years of pollution and neglect. It is a major effort just to open that ancient door. Hinges that squeal loudly and pray for an end to their existence. She steps onto what passes for a restaurant floor. It is a concrete floor stained black by adhesive that once held linoleum tiles to it. The door slowly grinds closed with a thunk. There is no escape now, the shift has begun.

A thousand years of fossilised grease and human sweat reaches out and claws at the noses of everyone in this 4 walled hell of barely edible shit and wandering hands. The chefs hands wandered once but a trolley with a wobbly wheel bumped into him when he was getting something out of the deep fryer. That hand doesn't wander any more. The customers hands were a different problem but the odd cup of hot coffee in the right places keeps the rest of them in line. "Oops I'm so sorry. I'm just a clumsy girl." The sweetness would ooze out of her voice and everyone got the message. Sometimes she would laugh herself to sleep.

Tonight was different. A new smell entered the restaurant. A man soaked in the sweetest smell walked into the restaurant. His clothes were sown together in a land far across the sea. His hair was shaped by an artist and his beauty drew attention from all the women in the place. The dirt from this place didn't stain him as he sat down. He ordered coffee and sat in one of the corners where the cheap lighting didn't reach. His eyes penetrated everything here. Searching and probing for something he desired. His sight swept across the room, across the customers and the staff. He found what he was looking for, it was the woman who wore a uniform cut from a cheap textile, the night shift waitress. Her eyes were caught his immobilising stare. He looked deep inside of here eyes and then broke contact. He return to a more passive posture and finished drinking his coffee. He rises gracefully to his feet and glides out of the restaurant.

In a darker corner a figure rises wreathed in darkness and cheap clothes. A hood layers her face in shadows but the beauty of it overpowers the darkness. She confidently strides through the restaurant. Her presence is enough to dissuade the sea of wandering hands that plague the tables. Her noiseless movement attracts all the eyes in the restaurant. The air barely moves from her quick movement to the door. Long gloved thin fingers reach around the wrap the rusted door handle. The ancient door does not resist her hands and she effortlessly leaves the restaurant. The waitress went over to the mysterious women's table to clean it for the next customer. The stained surface of the table was empty of fresh blemishes. The coffee cup the mystery woman was drinking from hasn't left a ring. The cup has a small ring of coffee at the very bottom. The lip of the mug is clean and dry. The waitress feeling a little disturbed, shrugs her shoulders and mutters something about weird customers.

Midnight reaches under the door and slowly draws all the customers out the restaurant. They leave to go to and do what ever they do in the dark heart of the night. Now that the last customer has gone, her shift is over. She passes through the kitchen, past the chef who flinches as she walks past. She fills out the time sheet and leaves by the solid steel door at the back of the building. It closes solidly behind her. Leaving her isolated in the dark from the world that slowly diminishes her soul. She embraces the freedom in the dark and makes her way home.

She is greeted by a hard dark river she walks along its dirty grey banks. On the side of the river a late model convertible, it lies directly ahead of her. The dirt of the street clings to it, tainting its colours. It is kind of odd how such a valuable car would be left in such a condition in this neighbourhood. She is answered by a shadow flowing out of the darkness inside of it. The stale amber glow of the street lamps reveal the identity of the new shadow. It is the handsome man from the restaurant. He lunges out of the car and his feet glide across the concrete. She wrenches her body into the opposite direction and sprints back the way she came. She begins to feel her bag, some relive is given to her as she can feel the keys are still in there.

Weaving through bags of rubbish, her tactic is putting distance between her and the predator. Her heart is threatening to break out of her chest. Its beating assaulting her rib cage and pushing greatly needed blood to the rest of her body. The pain is beginning to form in her ankles and shins, it is reaching out to her knees. She wont be able to keep this up for very long. The inside of her chest is on fire, this fire of decay threatens to overtake her completely.

The long unforgiving row of barred shop windows. Staring into the dual worlds she sees that reflection is her only friend. She needs to reach the part of town that never sleeps, where the neon lights invade every crack and shadow. A place where the shadows carry out their nocturnal tasks. While danger waits for the unwary there, the danger following her is far worse.

Her breathing is echoing down the street. Her terror has all but consumed her thoughts. She can feel him chasing her but she dares not look back and see. Contrasting the yellow glow an intense darkness punctuates the barred windows. A familiar alley way will take her to relative safety. It leads to a high end porn shop which is open 24 hours a day. Due to the hours the shop is open, it is also staffed by a large armed security guard. Making her escape down the alleyway, she hopes to see the familiar glow of the shop sign. Instead she is greeted by darkness and a large steel mini skip. It has been turned diagonally so to trap anyone who passes down this alley. She bets the bastard has done this down all the alleys down the street starting from his car.

She goes to push the skip out of the way but she is too late. The handsome man has caught up with her. He drives her head into the mini skip and she crumples to the ground. She can taste her own blood on her lips. Her body loosens and relaxes, all her strength evaporates as she turns herself over to face her oblivion. She stares at his looming shadow waiting for his next move but something else stirs in this alley.

The bleeding waitress freezes as a shadow descends on a single thread of darkness. It unfolds undetected behind him. A shard of light shines on the edges of of the arm of the shadow. The shadows envelopes him for a second. The shard of light withdraws from his throat and it disappears back in to the hanging shadow. A dark mist escapes from the wound in his neck and a grand red hued shadow lurks across his chest. Clutching at his throat his eyes widen, his fate has been revealed to him and he is terrified. His chest convulses forcing a rain of red hued shadows into the night air. Soon the sanguine storm subsides and peace glazes across his eyes. His great shadow collapses in on itself and his darkness begins to pool around his crumpled form. The shadow diminishes and rises back into the night sky. The waitress is left alone with the body of the handsome man.

Pushing the mini skip out of the way she stumbles through the alley. She is bathed in light as she steps into the street. Her blood stained dress speaks of the terror that has just occurred and their fear clears her a path to the shop. She stumbles on to the clean black floor of the porn shop, the smell of blood brings all eyes to her. The security guard yells at her to raise her hands, in response to his words, she collapses onto the ground.

Within half an hour she is lying between clean soft sheets, like the ones she remembers sleeping in at the home when she lived with her family. The concussion had faded and the experience has become cloudy in her mind. All of the blood has been washed from her body but she doesn't feel clean enough. The nurse checks her every few hours but a lingering fear keeps her from sleeping.

The morning tabloid papers describe a tale that would add to the urban legends of the city. A two serial killers met in a dark ally. One known only as the playboy, called that because the sports car seen fleeing the scene. The other is what the predators of the world whisper about in dark places and tremble. The unidentified vigilante serial killer who's method of operation is bloody assassination style murders. They met in the darkness and only one of them walked away alive. The playboy would be another person who would not be missed.

In a few hours she will be discharged. She will go to the run down building where she lives and pack her things. She will and ring her boss to say she isn't coming back. She doesn't care about the money. She has seen what waits for you in the dark corners. She has also seen what's wait for them in the darkest corners. The city is a dangerous place she is going home.

© shane karl 2005

Unbirth.

2005-07-13T09:40:37Z

The cold has chained you and the dark sufficates you. Emptyness has consumed you and you feel nothing.

Your essesence tingles from the rays of a warm star. Movement stirrs in a form that has been long still. The space that has contained you offers very little resistance and is shattered. Free, you slither through the dense mass that envelopes you.

You try to remember what it was like before but it is a mixture of shattered images and oblivion. The thoughts and feelings are distant and alien, they dont belong to you anymore. It is the warmth that consumes your perception and you draw ever closer to it.

The dense mass gives way to something softer and colder. Free from it, you are bathed in the glow of your personal sun.

So close you can touch it, yet it is repelled by your presence. It is all you will ever want, all you will ever need. This desire fills your empty form and gives you new strength. You persue it through the soft cold. The strength of its movement wanes, the distance between diminshes.

The radiance reaches deep inside you and warms your very being. It must never go away it must never be lost to you. You must make it part of you.

© shane karl 2005

spade

2005-05-20T04:06:09Z

He walks down a concrete path. The path has been defeated by nature long ago. Lining the path unruly trees loom in the scarce moonlight. He has come down this path for a purpose. To pay a debt, complete a promise, to say good bye to a friend.

His consciousness is disturbed by a sound. The sound of grass rubbing against something that isn't grass. The muscles in his arm tighten and his torso violently twists. His arm and his weapon are flung back at merciless speed.

The sound of wood flexing and warping across the unusually strong fore arm of his opponent, echoes across the shadow lit graveyard. Two lonely silhouettes stand in a field of headstones. The ancient corpse feed trees are the silent witnesses to the battle that is unfolding.

He raises the the tool of wood and steel and swings with all the power his muscles can muster. A single fluid motion blocks this attack. The figure grips the weapon of wood and steel and hurls it into the void beyond him.

He grips one of the headstones and hurls himself in the direction of the clattering sound. Sprinting though the dancing shadows, he is completely dedicated to the task of reaching his weapon. The night is his foes natural element and his foe is gaining on him fast.

He feels a tingling sensation on his shoulder then something pushes through his skin. A mixture of pain and strength stops him in his tracks. His unseen opponent lifts him effortlessly in to the air and he hurtles over the mouldy time corroded stones. His journey is brought to an abrupt end by one of the many trees that blemish this ancient place. The force of the collision hammers the air out of his lungs.

"Join me" the striding figure calls.

He scrambles clumsily to his feet.
"naaaah I'm not really a people person" his voice wavers and wheezes. He rushes past a headstone the smell of old stone mixes with sound of shattering stone.

"The power is amazing." The voice growls and hums. The tone and inflection seem familiar.

He reaches an lichen covered tombstone. The corroded nameplate hides the owner of the grave but the grand cross on top of the headstone will provide much needed sanctuary.

"Power comes at a price, there is always a price." His words hiss from his tired lips.

Tthe air crackles and seethes. Sound claws its way into his ears. "a few worthless souls in exchange for immortality and total freedom." The voice echoes from every direction.

"Freedom ... from guilt, remorse, compassion .... " Strength is returning to his voice, the wavering has ceased.

" I am purged of weakness" The words are drip with anger with a hint of frustration. The harsh grating sound is slowly changing to something sweeter.

"You have purged yourself of humanity." his voice booms though the quiet night reaching every corner of the field of stones. The grand stone cross shelters him from the physical power of his enemy but something else is creeping through.

The voice surrounds him and confuses him, anger permeates the air . "No! I can feel so much more, I experience humanity like you can never imagine."

"What about your victims, they feel, they experience." the anger in his voice is mixed with sadness, reasoning with the voice in the dark is becoming futile.

"I can taste their dreams and their nightmares I will know them better than any other, through me they will live forever by being part of me". the words are swirling around him and infecting his soul. "For you i have different kind of immortality. We can be together forever." The voice is sweet and inviting it hums with an unfamiliar harmony.

There is a familiarity in the voice that can not be a mistake. She is the reason he is here.

"No, the person i loved is gone and some thing wears her face." Sadness has overwhelmed his voice and grief makes it tremble.

"It not like you have a choice in the matter. When you become like me all will become clear." The sweet voice has lot all of its anger, joy permeates the sounds issuing from her lips. Giggling echoes from every direction. Swallowing the dark for a short time.

"NEVER!" The anger of the word contorts his face and tears through the lonely night.

This is his last chance. He summons the last reserves of his strength and flees purposefully across the soft grass to where he thinks his weapon is.

Her final attack is a serenade. An ancient song composed in a time outside the dominion of mortals. The sound is sweet, filled with alien harmonies, and eldar rhythms.

He reaches for his weapon of wood and steel. He grips it with the strength of desperation but the song is draining him of the last of his will. His body refuses to responds to his wishes.

A solitary silhouette steps out of the shadows and into the moonlight. The sight of her eyes reaches inside of him and robs him of his remaining strength.

The past begins to swim through his captured mind, sweet memories of her and the life they once had. These memories cloud his thoughts as she approaches him. The memories of their last moments slip into his mind. Her last words to him before she disappeared into that corridor. "if i don't come back you know what to do."

Her footsteps bring her to a few arm lengths of him. Memories begin to Fuel him with purpose. It is ablaze in his soul and burns it away the cloud surounding his mind.

Blood lust clouds her unnatural senses so much she cannot see his body is tensing up. Driven by new found strength his hands clench the handle. His eyes betray his thoughts to her but it is far too late.

The spade end slowly drifts from the ground. The weapon of wood and steel cuts across the night air and connects with her neck. The freshly dead tissue offers no resistance to the steel, spraying the air with fragments of bone and a mist of black blood.

He sits his sore body down on a fallen grave stone. A few tears trickle down his dirty cheek. Some of what lies before him is not the woman he loved. Yet when he looked into her eyes the truth shattered his purpose, most of her remained. He has broken the unholy chains and she is no longer a slave. He has freed her from the beast she sought to slay.

The sound of leaves scattering across the graveyard indicates the first winds of dawn. The sun rises and cuts its way across the ground. The first light of the sun reaches body and the air begins to shimmer. The skin begins to tear in places and flame oozes out. The flame fights its way in across the body. The inferno engulfs her body then blazes unnaturally, drowning out the dawn sunlight.

In the distance and anguished screams brings a smile to his lips. "You are next" wheezes out if tired lungs. He straightens his exhausted frame and limps over the the rusted gate.

© shane karl 2005

Offal Pit

2005-05-17T12:04:37Z

Long empty days of decay infect my exhusted senses.
A stagnant earthy stew stained with suffocation and misery.
Marbled with sanguine streaks the pool moulds itself around me.
The slick cistern of discarded death breaks me with its supine resistance.
My hands and feet are betrayed by walls iced with necrotic lace.
Death and despair creep into my pores as silence drowns my will.

© shane karl 2005

Bathory

2005-05-10T06:02:49Z

Warm it serenely slithers past your skin,
Gently warmed with love, hate, fear and Joy.
Red hued strands swim and sway encompassing,
a pale lonely island with a scarlett shore.
Feeling the echos of life it once held,
as you lie in its soft glowing embrace.

© shane karl 2005

random 3

2005-04-18T23:27:25Z

I was walking to the mall and i found a banana. It screammed "wobble forth righteous solders." We skipped through long grass to an island in the sea. In the forest of tomato soup cans we sit down and listen to the orchestra. I swim across a lake of music and climbed a mountain of base. At the top i found a guru. He spoke these words of wisdom. "Blue vegetables ring the loudest on sunday."

© shane karl 2005

random 2

2005-04-18T23:25:45Z

I was walkning up the edge of a coin and it struck me. Helsinki is under 3 feet of water. I turned to my friend and he said. the colour of tuesday is orange. I replied. My pants are mustard. We continuted to walk in the clouds until he said. My cream cheese is shiny. He jumped in his boat and rowed away. i was alone with my sqirrels and they sang. Turn left swim. So i jumped into the sand and sang untill i reached sunset.

© shane karl 2005

a story done in the style of hplovecraft ... i hope.

2005-04-04T07:24:53Z

the well.

A lonely house in the oldest part of the city. The map of these streets had a pecular architecture which it didnt share with the rest of the city. This area was a cemetary of empty buildings. The houses were tombstones of the homes that once were here. The realestate agent was a strange man. His suit was fake and so was his watch. He never looked me in the eyes during the meeting. He sent me to this part of town that was in my meagre price range. I wandered the empty streets untill i found a place unlike the others. It had signs of recent habitiation. The lawns had a few weeks growth. the house paint had begun to fade but it wasnt cracked. The architecture hinted to the the era of the cities founding. Yet this house looked like someone had loved it. It still welcomed you. So this is the the house i chose.

The first week things were calm. The layout of the house was centered around the large dinning room. The house creaked when the wind blew hard. This part of the city was not not frequented by traffic so small noises thundered through the house.
it was the second week i heard it. A hissing. I searched the house for a gas leak but this house has no new pipes.
The second night. The hissing became melodic. A kind of music you can remember, but you cant remember the name.
On the third night. the melody becan to infect my dreams. It sung in a sweet voice but the sylables were hard to recognise.
On the fourth night the melody bacame a song, Aluring i had to follow it.

I got out of my bed stumbed into the dark dinning room. I had left the plates from dinner on the table and the smell of the meal was diluted in the air. The alien song was coming from under the floor. That is when i noticed the floor was different to the other rooms. The timber had been stained by age and scarred by time, yet the floor had remained resiliant. There was a fine square carved into the floor. I had never noticed it. Its funny how you never really look the the floor of your home.

I went back to my room and fetched my tool box. I had bought these tools expecing to fix thing in the old home but was surprised that it was in a good state of maintainence. I took out my screw driver and gently pried the panel from the floor. I retrived the torch from my tool bag and I looked into the darkness. The song was gone. it had stopped the moment i had open the panel. I could see an old level dirt floor. I picked up my torch and descended into the inky void.

The age of this place cold be smelt in the air. I scanned my torch around the room. On the floor slightly off centre was a space darker than the rest of the floor. I moved closer to the dark shape and pointed my torch at it. The bricks were blackened and chipped. It was at least 2 meters across. On the wall opposite me were glyphs. Carved into the wall when the bricks were still young. Age had worn the them to faint shadows. I moved closer to the glyphes. They were very ancient from a time that was lost to history and found only in secret places.

A quiet voice brought my attention back to the well. The voice dripped with pain but the words aluded my hearing. I peered over the edge of the well. The voiced emanated from the furthest depths of the void. The wells walls were made from jagged uneven stone. It looked like you could climb down the the sides. Maybe someone had, a previous occupant? I did not have any rope. yet this person could be injured. unable to be heard from the outside. The calls became more desparate. i built up my courage and I placed my torch in my mouth. I lowered my self carefully over the edge and began my descent. I clutching the ancient stone i carefully began to climb into the well. The darkness began to dimishih the torch light. Then there was the faint whiff of an odour. It was weak but still very repellent. I awoke memories of my studies. In particular a book I had had to translate during the course of my studies. The smell was like that shrouded the cursed tome the necronomicon. Memories of the symbols flooded my mind. I had seen them on its thin dusty pages. The glyphs had been translated by the forgotten author.

It described the ancient god Uajtodferu and how the followers had lowered their victims into a opening. At least that is how i translated ambigous word, as opening. The other meaning did not make any sense.

A creeping terror had entered my heart. The other meaning began to echo through my mind. I began my ascent to the surface. My hands and feet were becoming wet, yet i could feel not moisture in the air. My hand began to hurt. I aimed the torch at my hands. My hands glistened in the torch light. They glistened with a red hue. I began to glimb with great haste. The rocks continued to slice into my hand. I ignored the pain, the alternative was the abyss below. The light from the house had glowed over the well entrance. It provided a guide to my return. Were my eyes are playing tricks on me, Had the entrance to the well contracted in size?

The other translation of the word was screaming in my mind. One meaning translated the passage in that abomnible book in a manner that allows one to sleep at night. The other, created something far too terrible to contemplate.

the well scraped my waist as I escaped the shrinking abyss. I did not stop in the basement. I pulled my weakened self into the light of the dining room, onto the cold ancient floor.

That is where the found me, 4 days later. When i had failed to join my friends for a night out. They came to my house they found me covered in my own blood, muttering the other meaning of that ambigous word.

The other translation of the word ... was mouth.

© shane karl 2005

the traveller part 3 - destination.

2005-03-21T09:43:43Z

begin - Part 1 is here
Part 2 is here

It begins as a clawing on the edges of your mind. On the day you are born. You can feel the presence of the dark star. It infects your dreams from here, it crawls its way into your soul as you grow up. You can feels the weight push down on your very essence. The Blackstar always whispers in your mind. You are his children. He loves you and wants to save you. All he asks in return is total obedience.

Eternity as a slave. We would rather face death.

My captors have slowed their pace. My Journey is nearly at is end. This place is cold and the cold slithers into every part of my being. It is not the air that is cold, it is the the very fabric of the world that chills my bones. I can feel myself descending though i cannot see anything. They are carrying me into the vault of the corpsecrown. The bonds that contain me are removed. I feel the cold steel of the my new bonds on my skin. The power in the steel reaches in to my heart and wraps around it, binding my will and my soul. It is too late, it is far too late for for any escape.

It begins in my heart, a burning. The burning flows though my veins into my hands. it reaches my skin and becomes flame. The flame does not burn me for it is apart of me. I burn and my bonds melt away. The flame has engulfed my flesh and it gives me warmth. I step away from the pillar. The flame gushes across the cold masonry, burning all that it touches. My captors are first to feel the flame, it swallows their flesh and their screams. A twilight shadow is cast over the surrounding reality. I turn to face my fate. It stands there, the flames dare not apporach. It is the corpsecrown, the god who walks like a man. It is the Blackstar. Its black eyes stare into mine and I stare back into the darkness. I take a step, each step take me closer to my destiny. The flames that engulf my body are born of the sun and the eternal light. The Light that extinguishes the twilight shadow.

I open my mouth and speak the words. " You took from me and scarred my heart. I take these scars and feed this flame. This gift of flame will cleanse my pain and fuel my wrath."

I Touch the source of evil and it burns. It's screams shake the foundations of the earth.

Remember me forever.

© shane karl 2005

random

2005-03-19T21:31:05Z

i was walking down the road and a tree spoke to me. It said the plane doent leave untill friday. I though oh no the toast is butterside down . Then i climbed on to the boat and dried myself off with a food processor. I continued along the train tracks and was overtaken by a helicopter. I thought woah the capitol of Poland is Warsaw. A friend walked by and said the sun is blue. Then i thought i wonder if the cheese in the fridge has escaped again. So i tiptoed up the elevator and devoured a small sky and thought it need more motor oil. Now i had reached the end of the carpet.

© shane karl 2005

the traveller part 2 - the city and the lost

2005-03-16T01:58:23Z

begin - Part 1 is here

The forest has let us pass, its frustrated calls have faded to whispers. The twilight sky glows brighter as we draw closer. The mouldy bones of civilisation can be seen poking out of the soil. The horizon withdraws and reveals the source of this faint persisting light. A place only remembered in campfire tales and nightmares.

The gates that once welcomed, lie dead on the ground. The Gaunt walls have withered away from bent spires. The walls were once strong. They defended the city against all matter of foes. When the black star turned its gaze to the city. The centuries that passed weakend the great walls that protected the city from it. The timeless power of the blackstar eventually breached the walls. It sent forth its twilight shadows and the city fell. I now pass the decaying gate and enter the timeless city. The city that is here does not need walls for no one would ever dare approach it.

The colour and life have gone from these streets. The laughter of children has faded away into gasping whispers. The dusty reminants of homes blow along the streets. Efficient architecture now lines the streets. The timelessness that dwells here has no need for bedrooms or kitchens. No nursaries for children. they only have one need. The road through the city once smiled at travellers at they passed over it. Its teeth are now rotten and broken and it smiles no more. On the sides of the broken smile are cages filled with lost living souls. Their screams have long been silenced by madness. Their eyes are empty as they have stared into the darkness and seen what stares back. They are lost and they will never be found.

The promise of wealth lures the lost to this land. They come to find gold in the mountains or search for tresure in the ancient castles. The gold remains in the mountains, the treasure rests in the castles because this land lies to you.
The twilight shadows drag a lost person in to the courtyard. They leave the lost one quivering in the centre. The twilight shadows converge on the spot where he stands. The lost one has found the only thing this land has to offer. The only thing you will ever find here, Death.

As i pass along the broken teeth, I see the twilight shadows drag away the lifeless body of the lost one. I turn the to source of twilight, a row of great burning pits. I watch them cast the body into the flames. I turn away from these corpse fueled lights in horror. The cries of the lost call my eyes back to the city, to those hideous lights. I wish i could help them but my fate lies in the darkness to which I am being carried into. The twilight is fading away. Terror is my only companion now.

© shane karl 2005

(to be continued...)

fall

2005-02-15T04:54:49Z

In the beginning it was radiant,
now darkness entombs.

At first you struggle and resist,
your strength is worn away.

Tired and broken the cold enters ,
it's reach draws you away.

grasp for the light it won't help you
you have gone too far.

Far from the light is where you rest,
Held in it's embrace.

© shane karl 2005

the traveller part 1 - the road, the forest and the captors

2005-02-15T04:54:11Z

There was screaming, there was blood and when it was over, darkness. I awaken facing a forgotten road. I am now bound, a trophy being carried back to their Master. The feet of my captors kick up clouds dust. It feels is as if the very road is trying to choke me. Maybe it is an act of mercy, the earth's last gift of love, to spare me the fate so many others who have passed down this road have succumbed to. It has no power to prevent my fate. The earth has been defeated here.

Shadows pass me, shadows that were once trees. Like everything here, they are neither dead or alive. I stare down at the ground and grains of dust flow past my captors feet. The very earth is a victim of this eternal dark forest. I stare at the trees, a cold wind whistles through unfallen leaves. The sound is hypnotic and welcoming. They are caling for me. Their call feels cold in my mind. Their call weakens my hold on the waking world. These dark lords of the forest seem to be suffocation the light in this place. Shadows begin to merge into a greater darkness that creeps below me. It swirls around the feet of my captors frustrated. My captors share a common bond with these trees.

It is said when souls were created, they traveled freely within the universe. But sometime souls tire from their journeys and they rest and they dream. They dream of being born and growing into something more. Of course all dreams must end and the souls awaken and begin their journies again. My captors on the other hand this dream has turned into a nightmare a nightmare from which they cannot awaken. Bound inside this nightmare souls descened into depair and madness, whos only wish to share their sorrow.

I turn my eyes to my captors. Their colours appear to be watered down and their faces speak of their nightmares. Their eyes contain an hopelessness that threatens to engulf you if you stare to long. They walk a patient pace. They are in no hurry to get to where they are going because time means nothing to them.

The trees are beginning to thin. There is the glow of ancient fires beyond the horizon. My fate grows ever closer. A creeping terror has entered my heart. Am I the only thing alive in this place?

© shane karl 2005

(to be continued...)

the dream city

2005-02-15T04:52:32Z

The dream city.

i walk alongs roads that were never paved,
and buildings that were never built.
I walk passed people who were never born,
and who will never be touched by death.
Here is a world of nightmares and fanasties,
it is a place filled hopes and horror.
The sun never rises here nor does it set,
the eternal spires cast shadows from a twilight sky.
i walk the eternal cities nameless roads,
i seem to know way like ive walked it before,
The enigma is the destination is unknown to me.

© shane karl 2004

Hell

2005-02-09T08:38:59Z

Hell

On the bloated corpse of a dead god,
You gaze apon the ground and despair.
your feet feel the soft touch of immortal flesh,
and your faded reflection stares back at you.
Beyond your reflection the damned flow past,
Ingnorant of all things but their own pain.
The swirling air is cold and empty
and cuts through skin and chills the bone.
The Insanity that lies above, is the mouth of a great worm.
it teeths loosly spiral and surrounding the sky.
The only structure here a fortess of agony and sadness.
Its jagged edges wound the surface.
and its towers point cruelly into the sky.
The lights which emanate through the invisble windows,
cast shadows of misery from those trapped within.
There is a tear in the wall of this terrfing fortress.
the walls of the fortess reflect only your fear.
Though this torn gate lies a city,
Its builings claw the sky and clutch the ground.
Its roads carves their way to a to a dark tower.
Here the cities master residies clutching his ancient throne.
His eyes knows your heart and they know your lies.
Your choices have lead you here he whispers
and now you are mine.

© shane karl 2004

an end in fire

2005-02-09T08:38:06Z

An end in fire

A wall of fire then burning bones,
twisted metal and bleached stones.

Exhausted buildings and crippled spires
Still remain to fuel the fires.

Permanent shadows and shattered abodes,
metal corpses haunt the roads.

Empty Doorways make an empty greeting,
the false weclome is very fleeting.

Only Broken chairs and blackened tables,
still remain to tell our fables....

© shane karl 2004