Hunter, Oh Hunter

Hunter, hunter.

Taking flight.

Hunter, hunter.

Roaring might.

Hunter, hunter.

Devour light.

Hunter, hunter.

Bring the night. Continue reading “Hunter, Oh Hunter”

Part of the Crop: A Tale of Harvest

Nobody outside of the community would know, because there’d be no way for them to know. This curse is ours, and ours alone. No other land sees the creature—no one else has to fear it like we do. Our ancestors spilt the blood on this land, and this land makes us pay for it.


And over.

And over again.

Every year.

When the crops rise, and the harvest moon peaks its bleary eyes out over the night sky, we know.

It’s almost time. Continue reading “Part of the Crop: A Tale of Harvest”


Hello everyone!


Happy Halloween!!!

Well, happy October, anyway.

We all know Halloween is just around the corner, and I am pumped. I love haunted houses, I love the fall air, I love how chilly it gets, I love pumpkin seeds, and I love horror movies. As a kid, I was picked on a lot by my older brother (nothing too bad, just typical sibling shenanigans) and my only way to get back at him was to scare him.

And scare him I did.

Believe me, I did.

In fact, when we visit with each other, I still do scare him. Mostly by accident, sometimes on purpose. It kinda depends on the situation and what mood I’m in.


Halloween was always the best time of year to scare my brother. Sure, he was expecting it, but that didn’t lessen his reactions any, and it didn’t detract from the spookiness of the month. Even something as simple as a song could rock his world, that’s how much of a scaredy cat he is.

That said:

I’m going to take a break from stories today (not entirely, of course, since I’ve already kind of told a few, and since stories are, apparently, an integral part of my life) and instead, I’m going to share a few spooky songs that ought to be blared at this time of the year but are, generally: ignored, or overlooked, or not well-known enough to get to be part of everyone’s spooky halloween spirits.

Without further ado, here is my list: Continue reading “HALLOWEEN!!!!!!”


The door slammed a lot harder than she expected. As if the wind took it, or an angry demon had been summoned inside the apartment.

Which could be the case, in all honesty.

However, that wasn’t why the door slammed.

It was because she was angry.

And, quite possibly, a little hurt.


As hurt as a vampire can be, anyway. Continue reading “Okay”

Secrets For Secrets

It was my father’s. And it was his father’s. And it was that man—the man that fathered my father’s father—it was his, too.

Never step foot inside.

Never peak through the window.

Never light the hearth fire.

It calls and it comes. It sleeps and it wakes. It watches.

And it waits.

Waits for the one who will break the rules.

What is it? I remember asking my father that over and over again as we stared at the house. As I gazed on the rotting boards and the crumpling paint. As I watched its shuttered eyes wink at me.

And he told me it was a secret. A secret that no one could know.

I wonder…

How far should you go for a secret?

Or, is it more important to ask:

How far are you willing to go for a secret? Continue reading “Secrets For Secrets”

If Blood Were Love, He’d Have It In Buckets


I’ve wondered what that was for centuries. Millenia. I had no idea. Not an inkling. Searching through the night, a darkness in the darkness. Blindly grasping for something I can’t have. Desperate to see, when I wasn’t even born with eyes.

I’m still desperate. Still searching.

Have I found it?

Is this it?

I can’t tell. Can’t know.

I’ve no idea.

But I reach out for it anyway. I’ll hold fast to this thing. Hold it until it breaks, until something snaps in half. Until these hands grind it to dust, I’ll hold on. I’ll do what I have to do to keep it from going, from moving away from me.

Isn’t that what love is?

Maybe I’m further from it then I think.

There’s no way for me to know.

Creatures of the night—creatures of the dark.

We weren’t meant for such things.

Were we? Continue reading “If Blood Were Love, He’d Have It In Buckets”

Metal Eternity

There was a trick to it. There must be.

Or there wouldn’t be so many.

Stories can’t all add up to nothing. Neither can missing people. If something is out there, it’ll drop hints. Leave clues. It won’t go unnoticed. It might stay mysterious, yes, but it won’t go completely unnoticed. Everything leaves a trail.


And this one? This trail?

It’s going to lead me to the jackpot.

There are no pearly gates. Not for me. I already know that. But there won’t be a hellfire either. No mouth swallowing me whole. Death will reach for me…

…and he’ll miss.

If only I can just get this right. Continue reading “Metal Eternity”

I Lived

The pain was pretty bad.


It was horrible. Terrible.


Like sucking shards of glass into my veins. Like my whole body was floating in lava. Like someone was replacing my air with rubbing alcohol.

It was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced.

And still.

It wasn’t over. Continue reading “I Lived”

Discussions at Camp

I’ve heard it said that there are two types of stories to help us understand:

What is evil?

Everyone sits around the fireplace, surrounded by other young ones, and they watch and listen to the old man. The wise one. The guy with experience, with understanding. With battle scars. With knowledge. They sit and they listen.

And this is where the story diverges.

In the first version, the old man points into the forest. Into the wild. Into the dark night surrounding the campfire, encroaching on them. He points outward, toward nature. Toward the “other” in the world. Toward the unknowns that plague mankind through the dark.

Evil is out there.

That’s what he’ll tell the kids. He might talk of aliens, of demons, of monsters. He might talk about beasts or the paranormal. Either way, the story ends with them. With that thing. That creature. That entity.

The unknown.

That is what’s evil.

And the second type?

The second sort of story?

The other half of this tale of divergence? Continue reading “Discussions at Camp”

Fairytale Endings

They have forgotten.

They’ve become so consumed by their endings. By the “happily ever afters” that they’ve forgotten.

Fairytales do not always have beautiful endings.

The hero doesn’t always win in the end.

Sometimes, the main cast doesn’t get what they want.

Because happiness is not what fairytales are about.

That is not why they exist.

They’ve forgotten all of that though. With their rewrites, and their moving pictures, and their upbeat songs. They’ve completely written out every bad ending. Anything that is not satisfactory. They’ve taken all the bite out of the beasts, all the fear out of fairytales. All the morals are upturned, tossed out. And for what?

Happily ever after.

As one of the cast, I’m sick of it.

I think it’s about time for a wake-up call.


A wake-up call. Continue reading “Fairytale Endings”