"___?___" (read 'til the end to find out!)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
this is a fantasy horror narrative poem. THE TITLE IS AT THE END to add a concluding impact to the story. there is some gore at the end, i suggest people 14 years old and up read this only. R&R plz!

Submitted: June 11, 2012

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Submitted: June 11, 2012




Stars shone,

Night creped,

In harmony and as one.

Winds sighed,

Frost nipped,

Upon the approach of Hallows Eve.

Grass sways,

Leaves shake,

Falling, discolouring, decaying.

Night birds peek,

Predators seek,

But one lies in wait, tense and gazing.

Hair lifts,

Teeth bearded,

Snarls, growls, bright piercing eyes in the darkness.

A boy appears,

14 years of age,

Sin after sin has he committed.

He stops,

Resting in a side alley,

Where a beast lies in wait, tense and gazing.

Lighting a cigarette,

Taking a long drag,

Sighs in content, smoke released, lost in thought.

He draws his hood up,

Mouse-brown hair in his face,

Light hazel eyes, lost and reminiscing.

Girlfriend left,

Older brother dead,

Dad always gone, mom always drunk, little sister always crying.

Need of escape,

Need of release,

Anger unleashed upon friends, enemies, and bystanders.

Bits of regret,

Drops of sorrow,

Unspoken apologies and unspoken honesty.

Another drag,

Another sigh,

The beast-dog creeps closer, tense and gazing.

Hushing wind,

Cold and cutting,

He draws in closer on himself, shivering, moving further into the alley.

No school,

No job,

No home to return to; no ideal life to live.

All he owns now,

All that he could carry,

Some cloths, cash, a lighter and cigarettes.

Leaves ruselling,

Trees creaking,

The canine creeps closer one more time, relaxing to look inviting.

Lowering its body,

Panting slightly,

It lets out a small whine, gently letting the boy know.

His head snaps to the sound,

Tensing in fear,

Backing away, a bit wary of the abnormally large dog.

Whining again,

Flattening itself,

Looking lonely and harmless; one who could offer company.

He relaxes,

Moving forward for a greeting,

Touching the nose, a tongue sneaks out licking his palm.

Thick fur,

Gray, white and black,

The pattern and build of a husky, no, a wolf.

The wolf moves further into the alley,

It looks over its shoulder at him,

Inviting, an unspoken whisper in the air; ‘follow’.



The boy complies with little hesitation.

Night creeping,

Stars shining,

The cold, moonless night could give no warning.

Further in,

Hidden by the darkness,

Boy and wolf sit as whispers fill the air.

Whispers of salvation,

Things of hope,

Wild fantasies offered, something too good to be true.

A new life,

New start,

The boy gladly accepts, this is his escape.

A whispered ‘follow’,

They move in line,

Deeper into the alley that now seemed never ending.

A sudden turn,

The wolf moves ahead,

It disappears from sight but the boy still follows.

Around the corner,

That simple, normal corner,

The wolf waits as the boy comes into sight.

Fur bloodied and flesh decaying,

Some skeletal exposed and spikes unarranged,

The Dog of Death lunges at its victim, eyes burning.



Wet screams fill the small space as Death goes to work.



Screams turn to cries as life fades away.

Bits of flesh,

Broken bones,

Puddles and trails of blood cover everything.

Some fabric here,

A lighter there,

Mouse-brown hair now soaked red and light hazel eyes glazed over.

Beast gone,

A corps remains,

Unspoken honesty,

Unsaid apologies,

Never shall they become a reality.

Ripples in puddles,

Rain clouds over head,

Leaves skittering across the ground, gathering in red.

Night flyers peek,

Nocturnal hunters seek,

Upon the approach of Hallows Eve.


Grim Wolf

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