A Gothic Scare

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Review Chain


An unkempt man approached me one dark evening 'In pursuit', he said, 'of a favour' 'A drink' he explained, but I was unsure of his meaning When he specified it should be of a refined yet peculiar
flavour Then as he percieved I was not repelled, he moved nearer to enhance his rapport Until in the light of a streetlamp I could see the bottle he held And I wondered what fate had in store



It was clear now he was dressed in strange clothing Of a style that one rarely meets Except for perhaps if roving, in a town of Dickensian streets I failed not to judge as I leaned closer to hear
just what he might suggest I thought 'how gracious of me to humour this poseur In his pale make-up, black bowler and velvet overvest'



On the bottle he held his black fingernails drummed They were varnished as per his morbid fashion And in his throat the tune he hummed Spoke of past revels and passion Until at last had mustered
his confidence and a pleasing tone In which he proceeded to intimate his desire That alas, he possessed no blood he could call his own, so therefore he was forced to enquire As to the possibility
of a small donation, it would not take much time just a tick The procedure requiring just two things worthy of mention Those being a vein and a slit



Of course I recoiled aghast, and vainly attempted to call As I found I could not make a sound Then it was only when my head lolled down that I saw His feet hovering an inch from the ground I was
unable to engage any muscles as a fingernail pierced my left wrist Or when he filled his bottle with a pint of my best red corpuscles Then pocketed it with a hiss



He said he could see why he might be reviled For the comtempt he had treated me with Then he parted his lips and smiled To allude to the fiendish alternative It was a smile of rapacious appearance,
that made my heart shiver and shudder For as anyone could tell from even that quick glance His smile was a smile like no other



Then with a doff a wink and a smirk He smoothly departed our puddle of light And melting into the inky black murk He receded into the night Now whenever I am about after dark I determine to not be
so too late And ever since that experience left it's cruel mark I portage garlic cloves, holy water and a stake

Submitted: October 30, 2017

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Submitted: October 30, 2017

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A A A


An unkempt man approached me one dark evening
'In pursuit', he said, 'of a favour'
'A drink' he explained, but I was unsure of his meaning
When he specified it should be of a refined yet peculiar flavour
Then as he percieved I was not repelled, he moved nearer to enhance his rapport
Until in the light of a streetlamp I could see the bottle he held
And I wondered what fate had in store

It was clear now he was dressed in strange clothing
Of a style that one rarely meets
Except for perhaps if roving, in a town of Dickensian streets
I failed not to judge as I leaned closer to hear just what he might suggest
I thought 'how gracious of me to humour this poseur
In his pale make-up, black bowler and velvet overvest'

On the bottle he held his black fingernails drummed
They were varnished as per his morbid fashion
And in his throat the tune he hummed
Spoke of past revels and passion
Until at last had mustered his confidence and a pleasing tone
In which he proceeded to intimate his desire
That alas, he possessed no blood he could call his own, so therefore he was forced to enquire
As to the possibility of a small donation, it would not take much time just a tick
The procedure requiring just two things worthy of mention
Those being a vein and a slit

Of course I recoiled aghast, and vainly attempted to call
As I found I could not make a sound
Then it was only when my head lolled down that I saw
His feet hovering an inch from the ground
I was unable to engage any muscles as a fingernail pierced my left wrist
Or when he filled his bottle with a pint of my best red corpuscles
Then pocketed it with a hiss

He said he could see why he might be reviled
For the comtempt he had treated me with
Then he parted his lips and smiled
To allude to the fiendish alternative
It was a smile of rapacious appearance, that made my heart shiver and shudder
For as anyone could tell from even that quick glance
His smile was a smile like no other

Then with a doff a wink and a smirk
He smoothly departed our puddle of light
And melting into the inky black murk
He receded into the night
Now whenever I am about after dark
I determine to not be so too late
And ever since that experience left it's cruel mark
I portage garlic cloves, holy water and a stake


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