Not a Game

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

I based this on the Midnight Man game but made it be a poem.

Submitted: February 25, 2018

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Submitted: February 25, 2018



My name is the Midnight Man

Coming for those who seek me

As my mind is a key

I will unlock your mind to insanity

With your deepest fears in hand

I will release them

You will see


You see me

You scream

As I let the fears go free

You instantly see

Your greatest enemy

The fear that has haunted your every dream

You run to your room

Thinking I will not find you

But that will not do

Because I'm coming for you

With your fears to

"It's so dark and quiet"

You quietly say

No, it's not!

You hear me 

Roaring in your ears

Then silence again

Wondering if this was worth it 

You do not speak

Hearing only a creak at the door 

Alone in the dark


"Why, Why, Why"

"To die, die, die"

I reply

Through my mind

Then it begins

Fears bashing at the doors

Scratching and clawing at the floors

Throwing your things all over

Hearing children screaming all over

You think it's over


The only thing protecting you

Is that candle

...But it goes out

You try so hard to light it

But it's not quite having it

You throw it to the ground

"Come on out"

You say out loud

I'm behind you dear child

I breathe down your neck fiercely

"I don't know what to do next"

You think while quivering

You turn to see

A man in black with an old hat

There is no face that you can see

He walks toward you suddenly

Grabbing your neck

You fall to the floor

You fight for every air

And to get free

But I squeeze even more

Your fears holding you down

 So you can't kick or hit

The Midnight Man

You try to scream out loud

But nothing comes out

Crying is all you can do



Because you wanted this to be

When you summoned me

To play this "Game"

All you hear are these words

Is the sound of choking in the air

Finally seeing the eyes

Of the figure

Purple as a rose

Yet sparking so bright and sparkling

"At least I'll die looking at one last beautiful sight"

A smile on your face

A teardrop hitting the floor

Is the last thing you hear

Your hands on the floor

Laying as if standing 

The police come in the morning

To find a person

On the wooden floor

Hands wrapped around their neck

Every belonging on the floor, messed up or tipped over

Scratches on the front of their room door

Scratches even on the floor

They look over to the victim's face

Eyes so bright

Sparking purple in the sunlight

A seemed to be teardrop next to the face

A candle placed in its holder upright

On a drawer

Lite but not bright like it would be at night

Later it seemed the person had strangled themselves

With their hands

The police said suicide but some said why

She had everything going for her to die

Little time passed 

From the girl who passed

For every now and then 

Someone would see a man 

Holding a candle in his hand

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