Spooktober 2022

October Plan

As always: Have Fun ~
I have been enjoying WA challenges, and this could be a nice little poetry spot for me this month. So I'll have a go, have some fun, but not stress over it. I'm not often into spooky stuff, but let's see how it goes ~  

Prompts

 

1. Portrait

enny looks into the mirror.
Her face stares back at her.
Expressionless.
Void of life.

 
nly the vague semblance of skin could truly be called her own.
The eyes, they are too strange.
Too black.
Colourless.

 
ed used to run through her hair.
Causing a scene.
But this, this is a different type of scene.
Not one she longed for.
Not the right colour.

 
ainted fingernails tapped on the glass.
The mirror didn't break.
The mirror showed the taint.
Her eyes were working.

 
ubies once lined her dress.
Her hair. Her gifts.
Gone.
Swallowed.
Unnecessary.

 
flicker of recognition to her life before this morning waking.
The painter.
His brush.
His smile.
It wasn't a smile.
 
ndigo once looked good on her.
The deep colours brought out her brightness.
Stolen.
It wasn't a smile.
 
heif!
The painter took the colours.
Penny cannot cry.
The colours are gone.
Her life taken away.
Her smile, no more will stay.
The painter packs his bags.
The painter takes his brush.
The painter smiles once again,
"Your portrait is finished, Madame."
It isn't a smile.
It isn't a smile.
 

2. Vanish

"Verily, verily, I say to you,
 You of the window,
You of the beautiful hair,
I cannot live without you,
I cannot dream of another day alone."

  "Alone, my soul cannot take it.
Please, let down your hair,
Then may we run off into the sunset,
And take refuge in each others care,
Every day and every night."

  "Night is coming soon,
I will be back for you then,
Please let down your hair,
I can come up and meet you,
And help you down immediately."

  "Immediately, let me see your face.
Don't let my faith go to waste.
I will come back soon again my dear,
Just let me get my shears."

  "Shears have been procured,
I see your hair has come down,
Climbing up to you now,
I will soon be your hero."

  "Hero. 
How many have spouted that word?
Just because my step-mother was a witch?
Well, silly little boys are you.
This tower holds me from you.
So come to me, fuel my greed.
I can never have enough.
Tell me, tell me,
Of my beauty and my fame.
How much you love me verily.
And when the sun again rises,
The next one will follow you.
I do not love you, but those words you spout.
So another hero come, 
Another skull to sit and sing,
Of my beauty, verily."    

3. Abandoned

Asking the guardians for a blanket in the winter was a scary, scary quest. I almost thought that I could forgo the interaction and stay shivering in the attic unnoticed. 
  But the cold was extra cold. And the warmth of summer had long gone. If I wanted fingers come next spring, I'd have to ask. I'd have to face them. 
  Actually standing before them and seeing their faces nearly stopped me. Their long frowns. Their dreary gowns. The height they looked down at me from. 
  Negligence was my own fault. Why had I not knit myself a blanket in the warmer months? Why hadn't I?
  Dusk in the dungeons was warmer than the attic. Well, there were recently dead bodies to snuggle under, at least. I guess they did give me a blanket, despite my lack of preparation.
  Orange hair was mattered into a half frozen square that was the start of my new blanket. Skin wouldn't last long, as it gets eaten by the small ones. Cloth pieces could be weaved in, but they were hardly cloth by the time the bodies got thrown to me.
  New bodies were handed to me almost every day. I had thirty patches make up my blanket. It almost covered half of me.
  Eventually, I had a blanket that covered me. The small ones could fit under it too. More blankets were made. We have not been cold for a long time.
  "Demi?" a voice sputtered. Ah, this one wasn't dead yet. I poked him. He groaned. "Let's leave," he rasped. I shook my head. It's too dangerous outside. The guardians were too tall. Besides, I needed his hair for my blanket.   

4. Enchante

Everyone says "It's nice to meet you."
Meat, "It's nice to eat you."
I was told not to say that to my food.
  No one came to my first party.
A dead end, they said.
One day, they will have to be my friends.
  Could it be? Is it she?
The one who most said they'd never come.
But now dresses supurfluously with a "Just because no one else will, I'll come!"
  Hardly anything to think about.
I have made my first friend.
And now one person will understand.
  And she will meet at school tomorrow.
A simple smile with simple words.
The human shell is gone.
  Never did he think I'd be so fast.
At understanding my programmers heart.
"Blend in," he said. "Make friends," he smiled.
  Things are always better in an ordered form.
Prepared with care as I once was. 
A simple smile with simple words.
  Enchante, my new friends.  

5. Misfortune

Melodies filled the air, their sounds twirling like ribbons in slow motion. One swirls high, wrapping around a second, then unwrapping to wrap around a third. 
  Inside the castle the sounds of music were only louder, reverberating through the high rooms. They bounced off walls and hid behind corners. Clattered through armour and overshadowed dining trolley wheels. 
  Sleep was long forgotten by the many who had been preparing for this day. One the day arrived, their energies renewed and what little sleep they'd had in the leadup was ignored. 
  Festivals were a rare event in this far-off community. Surplus food was a miracle and visitors were as legendary as dragons. There were never enough hands to finish the needed work. 
  Out of care for the citizens, the lord would gather them once or twice a year, and create a reason for the festival. Last time, it was for good luck to the young men sent off to battle, including his son. 
  Return of the citizens came at last, and the lord declared a festival. His son had been hailed 'Hero of the Realm' and brought a donation of wealth back home.
  Though the wealth was given in gold, it was too late to use it for the festival. Food spoiled, and dancers broke their legs. The prized cow dropped dead. 
  Unable to cope with the horrors of battle still plaguing him, the son went and hid in his room. The lord decreed the festival for his son, as a way to try and cheer him. 
  Not one thing went right, until a small girl came. She sang a song and lifted hearts, and they continued preparations that day. Many a villager knew some songs, and the richest of them had musical instruments. Others banged on pots, clapped or hummed along and they created the greatest choir there ever was. 
  Everyone loved the sounds of music that completed the festival. All except one. The one whom the festival was for. The one whom they needed to cheer. The one who lost their hearing in the battle that made them a scapegoat hero of the Realm. 

6. Chasm

Centuries ago, a spell was written.
A word unlike any other.
Placed on a letter.
Into an envelope.
And sent from one to another.

Handwritten was the spell.
The words that had great meaning.
From one to another there was a thought.
That two together could have great meaning.

Acceptance was expected.
A life together predicted.
Expectations rose.
Before each day when the post arrived,
the spell writer's heart arose. 

Such expectations did not last.
The writer's days of hope soon grew cold.
Their letter was never was replied to.
But acceptance of a third party came,
as the writer stood silent and still.

Marriage to the other was cursed.
For the spell was not accepted.
Too bad, so sad.
The writer was too dull.
For the letter they sent was anonymous
they had never added their seal.

7. Thorn

Theodore Hestre looked through the papers on his desk. A rose scent came in as a maid brought in tea. He quickly stood up slamming the papers on desk. As he left the room, he threw a red cloak over his shoulder. 

Hurrying behind him, his assistant cried, "My lord, what are you up to this time?" His lord, Theodore briefly paused. His frown receded and a certain smile painted his face. The assistant sighed, he only ever smiled like that for that woman. 

Outside, Theodore called for a carriage and went into town. Ignoring the young ladies' cries, he walked steadfast into an accessory shop and gestured to one of the walls. "All of it." The wall of rose inspired jewellery had just been restocked an hour ago.

Reaching to a small necklace, he ripped off the jewel. "I'll take this one with me. Send the rest to the castle." He left his assistant to deal with it and went back home, gripping the green jewel in his hand, letting it pierce his skin.

No sooner than he had returned, he threw the cloak to a waiting servant and walked to the greenhouse, still gripping the jewel. "Theo dear," an elegant woman smiled over tea, "Did you bring one?" Theodore held out his palm, the green jewel sitting in a small pool of blood. "Lovely," the woman continued, waving her hand. His blood formed a rose. He smiled as he gave the flower to her. She laughed, accepting it.   

8. Howl

Hovering between before dark and after light
The horizon strikes with colours bright
Before darkening into deeper night

Only the first few howls sound so clear
The sounds that make others envy for a year
Before the cacophony of the nightly cheer

Well into the evening they sound
Their nightly howls till midnight resound
Even 'till morning some can be found

Little listener, listen well
Hear the nightly cries abound and swell
But of their faces, do not tell
 

9. Mirror

My days have been so busy that I barely have time to sleep.
Life is so hectic, it is hard to stay sane. 
Thankfully I am fully capable of understanding my brain.
Even lessening my responsibilities doesn't keep me from needing more hours in the day.
How do others do it, I could not say.
But I myself, will just keep working away.

I'll sleep when I'm dead.
That's got to be the answer!
It's not like I could work any faster.
So I shall take away a few hours of sleep each night.That may be the best way.
I'll get more hours in each and every day.

Really, I should have gotten rid of all my sleep sooner.
It only messes with your mind.
Nightmares were never kind.
And that my brain is not tormented, I can get to work more often.
What else is needed except productivity?I see no other important activity.
Rage consumes the mind as others I know don't get it.
It's not just their inability to understand,
But they won't work without command.
If they don't want to be here that's fine, they can get out.
Just stop telling me to stop.
My excess work isn't a flop!

Others keep telling me I've turned into a monster.
They don't understand.
If I was, I'd have more hands.
Actually, that would be good for work.
More hands could make me more productive.
Then I wouldn't need to be so selective.

Rest is an illusive dream.
Or maybe I'm dreaming right now?
The people around me only frown.
See, this is the image I see in the mirror.
Ridiculous right?
I think the lights are too bright. 

10. Broken

"Be a good girl," they said.
"Be a good sister," They Said.
"Be a good human," THEY Said.
"Just be normal." THEY SAID.

  Ridicule. They snicker behind me.
Unhelpful. Their tips don't work for me.
Unforgiving. They don't even want to understand.
"Be normal." Unwilling to try a different 'box'.

Only when I am far away.
From the 'normal' of which they say.
Can I truly be myself.
But normal is what THEY all want. 

Keep trying to be me, I am.
So very difficult in this world of theirs.
I try to find my accommodations.
Only to be kicked out. "Not normal".

Everyone says "Just try harder."
So I did. Again and again.
Now I am physically ill.
And can no longer work like 'normal'.

Normal. Normal. Normal.
Is it really normal to no longer know myself?
To no longer know life without stress?
"That's not normal." 
 

11. Escape

Everybody look away ~
There's something fun over there ~
Just a moment, while I tie my shoes ~
And I'll be with you there ~

Several times I've left you all ~
Gone away on my own ~
I haven't heard you complain yet ~
I'll just leave on my own ~

Could it really be ~
That you haven't noticed me ~
But I guess that was my plan ~
Look away, don't look at me ~

At some point you will notice ~
That I am not with you ~
Will it be too late though ~
I am good at leaving you ~

Perhaps, you will then say ~
That I am good at coming back ~
Or that I am lying to your face ~
I'd have to noticeably leave to be able to come back ~

Even though you may say these things ~
The can only be said while I am here ~
Didn't you notice when all year long ~
I've been preparing to not be here ~
 

12. Slime

See them in the fields over there?
See them in the forest?
See them in the first entry of the Beast Hunters Book?

Look at them as easy prey
Look at them as children's targets
Look at them as an Adventurer's expected first kill

Insignificant to higher XP
Insignificant to wealthy drops
Insignificant to bragging rights

Maybe that is all they will ever be
Maybe you have never seen a different story
Maybe you will underestimate them forever

Everyone has a weakness and a strength
Everyone, at least once, goes through life and death
Everyone should worry when a slime steals your breath 
 

13. Haunt

Happy the ghost lives here
Happy the ghost strikes no fear
They only want to laugh and play
And help little children ignore bad days

  Always waiting for a new friend
Wanting to hear of the latest trend
Will cover any eyes and ears
To unwarranted yelling or tears

  Until their death, they were a child
With a life that was all but mild
Still they are unable to move on for sure
Past the pain and trauma they had to endure

  Never would they wish it on another
Especially a child or vulnerable other
So they play with the kids each day
And listen to all they have to say

  Then when night falls and the kids sleep
Happy the ghost comes inside to peep
And subdue the adults causing terror
Limiting their atrocities forever
 

14. Ruin

Relics of the past have been going for double their usual prices on the Black Market these days. I don't know if it is because they have become rarer, if someone has been hoarding them, or if they have become the latest trend. All I know is that I am in need of one to get back home. 

Under the Ruins of Algetta, there is a maze. In the maze is a puzzle. And in the puzzle is a riddle. There's also a bunch of fancy clockwork and magical traps that have not been seen for civilisation or two. I know this because I was abandoned when young in the ruins. Trying to find shelter from a storm, I chanced upon a trap door and was pulled into the crypt that lead to the maze. Inside, there were many shiny things. They were all useless. I had needed food and only knew how to hunt small things. So I started with the rats. As I ran around, I learned more about the maze and was able to fight and eat the larger monsters. I used the fire traps to cook them. The only reason I left the place was because there was a teleporter trap after killing the monster that never left its room. It was the monster in the middle of the puzzle. I just had one more step to the riddle and I would have finished it.

Indirectly, I may have been responsible for destroying this city. No one told me that backwards teleporting would create such an exothermic reaction. Oh well. I didn't like that city anyways. They charged me way too much for the relic. Well, they would have if I didn't steal it. I still had to pay the entrance fee though.

Never thought finishing the riddle would give me a new set of clothes. And a magical door to other cities. Now people are coming in, screaming about this and that. So many people and they haven't even got past the first step of the maze. *Snort* They do bring good food though. It tastes better than the dark creatures coming in from the doors to the uninhabited areas. Plus, the dark creatures won't fight me. Only those from the cities. Hmm, I wonder if I could make the maze larger? Maybe I could steal a city?

15. Mist

Maybe I don't appear here.
Cannot be heard
Cannot be seen.
Invisible as a ghost.

I'm never really sure if I belong.
Am ignored.
Am not understood.
The elephant in the room.

Some days I try more than others.
Efforts wasted.
Stress increases.
Theory unapplicable.

There are days I imagine revenge.
Wiping smirks off faces.
Revealing their bullying and corruption.
And then leave as if I was never their in the first place.
 

16. Whisper

When I once lived with a family of non-family kind, I lived in the place that most families would not say was a family friendly room, and under situations where I could not let out my voice as one should be able to.
    However, that I lived there has proved to be useful in the later parts of this life I have lived, living in different places and different situations, even if by then my voice had turned coarse.
    Internally, I can see that I have grown in various ways due to the nature of that first place that I lived, although that could not be said for the external nature of my physicality, nor the sounds that can be made from my throat.
    Suppose that I might have lived with a family type family from the beginning, I might be taller now, have all my limbs, be able to listen properly to the normal speech loudness of others, yet know a little less of what the nature of humans could be.
    Perhaps, one might say that I was just an unfortunate one, that my story was only of the lowest and that, in general at least, humans actually do know what a family is and can do that normal things a family does, including conversations that are in between a whisper and a shout.   Even more, one might continue, that what I know about humans is limited, a small sample, and actually not all that great and that my internal might not be so great, or that it is just a different growth rather than a larger than normal growth.
    Rather than listen to the many humans related to the other quiet ones here who have become my family from all manner of similar situations, all of us would rather stay in this forest with the monsters, where we don't have to scream in fear, nor whisper in fright.
 

17. Shadow

 

18. Spirit

 

19. Relic

 

20. Unquiet

 

21. Shatter

 

22. Lock

 

23. Door

 

24. Curse

 

25. Posses

 

26. Abyss

 

27. Echo

 

28. Darkness

 

29. Hunt

 

30. Tear

 

31. Drown

Dropcaps from Gordan Johnson via Pixabay.

Cover image: by TaraFaeBelle

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