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Dead Man, Darkened

Poetry By: BloodiedBlossom
Thrillers



Stories about assassins should be dark and Gothic, even sadistic if necessary. I tried to capture the feel of such a story.


Submitted:Aug 15, 2012    Reads: 130    Comments: 2    Likes: 0   


A shady figure runs below
the glistened moon above the sky aglow
Not a sound is heard, the dead speak not a word
A striking shadow through the night, below the ghastly light

Slipping through the darkness, beyond the world unknown
A dark place in the universe, a loop hole that the shadows spawn
Into a place, an evil place, where the dead make the ground
that the living walk on

The figure enters, still not a sound is heard
Into a hall filled with decay, and on a stone door
leading to the final destination of the dead,
carved in gold, writen is the friendly word

Death is a necessity, the shady figure quotes
Eyeing the cobwebs, gracefully swinging, through the slightest chill
Observing the ghostly mist dispersed, not a creek is heard
As the stone door opens, by the dead man's words

The figure steps beyond the gate of a Forgotten Time
A place of mischief, Paradise of many a deadly deed
As they sit, the Shadows, in a circle under the fire's grasp
In unity they have not a future nor a past, and of the dead they feed

All clad in cloaks of blackened shadow
They greet the figure with an evil grin
No words are needed, a look is all they grant
On this ghastly, darknened night, he's been sent to Sin

Shadow hide thee, Shadow mistify thy soul
Shadow engulf thee, Darkness is thy only goal
Shadow glisten in the night, Shadow keep you out of sight
Shadow shines bright and guides and guards thy heartless life

He bows, a blade revealed bound to his waist
And out the void of darkened shadow, He glides through the night
Thoughts of all the souls he slayed, through his mind they race
Across the meadow, through the woods, he runs, avoiding sight

A village of forgotten beauty, lies deep within the trees
his hands are eager, for tonight, they are to do as they please
The Assassin nears the dimmed out lights, of a river bound cottage
He climbs the wall with grace and ease, to a point of vantage

Inside a beauty, sings and laughs, her father sits beside her
The charming May dances with great joy, there is nothing that abaids her
Then it halts, the music of her voice and her father's hands
She huggs the man with great a smile, as beside the door she stands

The Assassin catches a glimpse of her beautiful face, her eyes were jeweles of green
her lips were red as a red, red rose, and her hair black, black as night, yet shining
And her perfect figure stood out most of all, with awe in his eyes, the Assassin was watching
Astounded at the river of emotion, winding through his soul and heart, her beauty, outstanding

A wave goodbye is all thats given, as she disappears into the night
The old man gives a smile, blows a kiss, as he returns into the fire's light
The Assasin snaps out his emotion, waits and listens, as the old kind hearted man, falls asleep
Then slowly, ever slowly,from the roof of the old wooden cottage, down he creeps

By the door where May had stood, The Assassin shadows all
Way down here, below the thatched roof's safety, the old cottage seems so small
The door gives not a challenge, for seldom are doors bared or locked in this land
Gracefully and quietly, he slips across the room, his blade now resides in his hand

Approaching the bed of the sound asleep old father, The Assassin grins with interest
He awakens the old man, and makes him watch, as the blade is sunk, deep within his chest
Not a scream is left, in the old man's dried out throat, yet hate is in his eyes
As he breathes in his last breath, he lived a happy life, yet his soul travels down, opposite the skies

Shadow hide thee, Shadow mistify thy soul
Shadow engulf thee, Darkness is thy only goal
Shadow glisten in the night, Shadow keep you out of sight
Shadow shines bright and guides and guards thy heartless life

The Assassin pays no mind to the pools of blood, spread across the cottege floor
He rather cleanses his blade, with the silk of the old man's coat, hung beside the door
He then makes his leave, leaving naught but the old man's lifeless body behind
Back to shadow's lair he travels, back to that darkened place, back to the Shadows' side

To society, the Asssasin is nothing but a myth, a time forgotten figure of a Forgotten Time
And his Masters, men of mystic brutality, and brutal, heartless souls
They reside only in man's imagination, and the occasional story or rhyme
Yet people of great importance they are, in the outside world, of this God forsaken time

The Assasin arrives, eager and impatient, to recieve his well earned prize
A young woman, not eighteen of age, bound in chains is standing inside the Hall
A strange old man, a hood to hide his scarred old face, stands behind her, whispering
She seems frightened, yet beutiful and fair, a rose bound to torture, a life about to fall

Caught my midnight marauders, and brought before the Shadows as a gift of kindness
A tradition passed along by the Order, for many, many years
A young woman, scarcely mature, used for their pleasures in the darkness
Yet for his loyal service, he recieves this greatest honour, to rid the maiden of her many fears

The Assasin nears his victim, a grin of pure delight, is high upon his cheek
The old man smiles, then sliders away into the dark of the pillars, towering high above the stone cold floor
And the beauty, she now shines in the darkness, she is all alone, afraid and feeling sick
Yet the Assasin flinches, as the beauty's face comes in view, it is May, as beautiful as before

He speaks not a word, confused by his own thoughts, he stands there in the dark
May's emerald eyes are gleaming, from above the cloth covering her gracious lips
He rips of the cloth, but signs her not to speak, yet the foolish girl is desperate
Please, please! she cries, Please! At that moment, rage is seen in his eyes, and at her he barks

She fell silent, gazing at the Assassin's blood red hands and an old scar on the left side of his brow
A strong and powerful , yet graceful young man, attractive, with eyes as green as her own
He stands there in the darkness, eyeing the beautiful young woman, he orders her to bow
She does as said, fearing for her life, yet the Assasin ponders no more, and grabs her, all alone

In this old hall of stone, he drags her by her long black hair, towards a big stone door
She struggles, yet barely makes a sound, fearing the brutal and heartless man
Beyond the door, her nightmares lie, bodies of many young women, nude, hung from the walls
She screams at the sight, but powerless against the Assassin, he tuggs and pulls as hard as he can

He grabs her by the arm, and rips of her gown, revealing her graceful nude figure
The Assassin looks in awe, and gives a grin of pure excitement, a frenzy look, in his eyes so bright
Inside he bounds her to a slab of stone in the middle of the large circular room
She struggles, yet for naught, once her arms and legs are bound, he gazes at the sight

A blade he produces, his heart is cold, and May closes her emerald eyes in terror
A scream is heard from beyond the door, and another, then a painful grunt, and another scream
Until finaly, her light is shut, her body lies there bleeding, nude under the fire's shine
Her throat is slit, and the Assassin, on the ground by the stone slab, is lying in a trailing bloodfilled stream

A great wound within his chest where he had stabbed young May's father
With the last of her dying force, May had struck the Assassin, as he was on top of her
The blade had slipped and turned, right into the Assassin's heart, where his dreadful life had been
He coughs yet smiles, Death is a necessity, and with those final words, his sight turns to a blur

Shadow hide thee, Shadow mistify thy soul
Shadow engulf thee, Darkness is thy only goal
Shadow glisten in the night, Shadow keep you out of sight
Shadow shines bright and guides and guards thy heartless life, till death takes thy light









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