The Specter Scare

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Trial and Terror

This is a spooky poem for a contest:) I would very much appreciate it if you guys showed me your support by liking and commenting! (The poetry is about a maiden who tries to find a key to a very important treasure in a haunted castle.)

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Act I

 

At deep gloaming twilight,

A gray castle stands tall and still atop the hill in clear sight.

Dangerously curious,

An unnamed maiden with dark strands dressed in a purple silk dress nears the ominous.

 

After walking through the maze like forrest,

She reaches the towering castle located, to her dismay, near a precipice.

I should not enter, she thinks before creaking open the large round door.

But I must, she decides, tip toing with great caution across the dusted chess floor.

 

For it is her mission, her decree

To retrieve a single key.

 

As she trails along, strange wind sounds are abruptly heard all throughout the castle.

She grips her chest in fear, but stubbornly refuses to falter.

In her trembling heart she knows that this sprawled, creepy place is filled with ghosts.

 

Inside the castle, poltergeists and famous people of the past such as Beethoven and Lady Jane Grey

serve as hosts.

 

Act II

 

Tentatively, our maiden makes her way to the filthy marble staircase that has not been swept in years.

As she does so, a whistling sound is heard loud and clear.

I choose to ignore it, she whispers in her heart.

Her slow, torturous pace continues until she feels something being thrown at her, hard.

 

She looks down, noticing a rock.

A poltergeist, she asserts. Smart.

I was sent here to retrieve a key, and retrieve it I shall.

Her thought fades away, followed by an unexpected, shrill shout.

 

Ignoring the scream, she continues climbing her way up the stairs

Only for a headless lady to block her way.

 

Our brave raven beauty covers her mouth tightly, keeping her terror at bay.

The madam standing before her, is none other than Lady Jane Grey, holding her head under her arm, seemigly okay.

I believe you know my personal horror, she drawls in a moan.

The maiden nods briefly before going up the steps made of stone.

 

What is it you're looking for? Lady Grey questions curiously, floating up to where the maiden stands.

“Something that will unlock a very important treasure, my lady,” she replies, wringing her hands.

Beware, for your presence poses a risk for the inhabitants here, she warns before vanishing.

 

As if on cue, all the doors of the rooms inside the castle open and close hysterically.

The windows are quick to follow suit, much to her dismay.

Quickly, she runs up the stairs and lights the chandelier to reveal strewn skeleton remains.

Albeit disgusted, she pushes her way through one of the many hundreths of doors in the castle.

 

Act III

 

Its has to be in here, it has to, she thinks, desperately searching around the room for the key.

What the hell do you think you're doing?

Our heroine slowly turns to face the cryptic, wooden vanity mirror with the drawers.

You I abhore.

She widens her eyes to see a blonde woman whose face is scarred by cuts, and whose eyes are darkly smudged.

 

“Why are you looking at me through a mirror?” The maiden quizzes.

Oh, you have not heard about me I see, she taunts, irritated.

“You're Bloody Mary,” the latter is quick to respond, deeply agitated .

Bravo,my dear. However, keep in mind that I don't appreciate a stranger barging into my room.

 

“I'm here on a very important quest,” she returns, unmoved.

Be that as it may, it is imperative that you are warned once.

Without another word, two pair of scissors are thrown viciously at her from the glass, as Bloody Mary repeatedly calls her “dunce.”

 

Luckily, the maiden is able to duck her attacks, thus leaving the depressing chamber.

 

Act IV

 

Just as she shuts the faded, wooden door,

All at once, she hears some unconventional uproar.

Its downstairs, she figures with a moan.

 

Without another thought or word,

She treads carefully down the steps, although she found this quite absurd.

As her delicate feet touch the ground,

The following is what she found:

 

Unseen forces were busy tossing things where the sprawled living room lay;

Old vases, cluttery, and porcelain artifacts, are strewn about the circular red mat, much to her dismay.

Just as our maiden tries to near the dusted living room,

The senseless havoc comes to a stop. Oh, doom.

 

She knows full well that poltergeists are erratic.

Well, I'd better find that key and get out of here, she reasons, emphatic.

Just as she had feared, everything inside the castle starts rumbling;

Plates fall and shatter, knives fly out of a door on the left, and chandeliers light up and shut off, insanely.

 

Oh me oh my, this is quite troubling, she frets inside.

A strong gust of wind blows dangerously close to her ear;

Fireplace, she hears a whisper, make haste, for your end draws near.

 

Quickly, she gathers her long dress and heads over to the fireplace.

The key must be here, she thinks, getting her hands dirty with soot as she searches for it apace.

She turns around momentarily to see the knives already flying above her, menacingly.

Oh no you don't! She defies, moving the dirty logs aside to find the key.

 

A triumphant smile crosses her face as she flees out of the forgotten building.

Just as she is about to open the main, tall door, a small knife grazes her neck.

She dodges it skillfully,

Shuts the door, and vows to never return to that haunted dreck.


Submitted: October 01, 2015

© Copyright 2021 A.R.Silver. All rights reserved.

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Comments

Ever A. Darling

Wow. I am honestly speechless, and don't worry. That means you did an exceptionally amazing job on writing this piece. Not only is it poetic, but it's also a story that kept me on the edge of my seat. I'm happy you did it in third person as to me, it is much more challenging than writing in first. With every word and every detail, I could see this all taking place inside of my mind, and that just made it that much more better of a poem. The rhyming surely added to it as well. You have such amazing talent, darling, and if you ever write something else, let me know. I would love to read it! Thank you for entering in my contest as well. Results will be up soon enough. (:

Fri, November 6th, 2015 3:14am

Author
Reply

Wow... you will never know just how much your compliment means to me:) Thank you so much. :)

Thu, November 5th, 2015 10:17pm

jmurch

I recently had encountered an editor who stated in regards to poetry submissions that anything over a certain blah blah! amount of lines would lose a reader and he would reject them. I so wish I had your creepy scare of a poem above to blast him in the face. You kept me involved the way King, Koontz, Poe, Jackson, and Lovecraft would. By scaring the crap out of me. I didn't even know a poem could carry this much pop! in the way of horror. Ian Dawn is the only writer to even come close to scaring me the way you did with simple dark prose. And I call him Booksie's master of horror. To be honest, he would love this piece. It carried the elements of a great ghost story but in poetry. This is amazing. I am glad to have found you on Ever After's page. You are a worthy dark writer. If Ian Dawn is the father of darkness on this site...then you are its queen of scare with this piece. I am glad to have found this dark, ghoulish piece. The hair is standing straight on the back of my neck.

Sun, November 22nd, 2015 12:32am

Author
Reply

I'm very pleased to hear that you liked my poem:) However, I'm not really a dark writer perce, I'm more of a mystery, romance, and drama freak, lol. And yeah, I like giving people a good scare once in a while :)

Mon, November 23rd, 2015 9:18pm

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