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11
Writings / The Hiders
« Last post by bahgheera on August 11, 2013, 01:23:22 AM »
Sometimes, I like to visit cemeteries.
Especially if they are old and ancient,
With cracked markers scattered around,
Like teeth in the time-worn skull of a hag,
With gums made of spider webs,
Showing in a deranged smile between lips
Made from the parting of darkness and emptiness.
Headstones with dates from the 1800's,
Angels of death carved upon them,
And bits of prose meant to sum up
An entire existence in one sentence,
Failing miserably.
I like to wander places like this,
Peruse the moldy crypts,
The elaborate vaults and tombs,
Wonder about the people who lie there,
Imagine what they must have been like,
What their descendants are doing right now.
Certainly not thinking about the sleepers,
That I am surrounded with
Here in the cemetery.
The best time of day
To pay a visit
Is just before nightfall.
That way you hear every little bit of the story
That a graveyard is meant to tell.
When you are doing this,
Just keep in mind one thing;
Do not look behind the headstones,
The things there do not like to be noticed,
And you could very well become one of them.
12
Writings / Re: Ghosts Like To Play Games
« Last post by bahgheera on May 24, 2013, 03:31:45 AM »
Ghosts like to play their strange games,
Spirits love to hide, scare and seek.
They jump in and out
Of the shadows about,


They whirl and turn and cavort
Just out of range of your vision,
They have their fun
While ruining yours.
For fear and fun
Are all the same to them.

So don't go alone in the dark,
And take care when you're home all alone,
For the specter enjoys
The thrill of the haunt,
And the wraith turns your courage
To stone.
13
Writings / Ghosts Like To Play Games
« Last post by bahgheera on May 24, 2013, 03:24:17 AM »
Ghosts like to play games,
Spirits like to hide and seek.
Diversions for devils,
Rollicking revenant recreations,
Spectral sport.
They need their phantasmic pastimes,
Just as those of us
On the right side of things
Need ours.
So when you see the cue ball
Silently trundle on the table,
When you notice

BLEH
14
Writings / Timeline
« Last post by bahgheera on May 24, 2013, 01:58:17 AM »
Day 1: Woke up, everyone was dead. Checked neighborhood, no one. Panic. No one answers phone. Drove to police station. Drove to fire dept. Cars full of dead people everywhere, still idling. Returned home, power was out. May have heard xformers exploding earlier.

Day 2: Stayed inside. Haven't heard from anyone since yesterday morning. Don't know what to do except keep the door locked.

Day 3: Exhaustion catches up with me. Sleep.

Day 4: Venture outside. Getting control of myself. Turn off the few cars that I find still idling. Visit grocery store, can't even approach the door because of the strong odor of decay. Go to hardware store, get respirator and return to grocery store. Scavenge canned goods. Set for a few weeks now.

Day 5: Stay inside, panic returns.

Day 6: Feeling better, go outside again. This time I visit the local pawnshop and arm myself.

Day 7: At this point, I realize that no one is alive anymore and no one is going to ever be alive again. It no longer matters what I do; whatever I want to take, is mine. I set myself up in a house a few blocks away that is more suitable for defense, if the need arises. The trailer I was living in can be easily entered by someone who is determined to get in. This house has a strong front door, good solid construction. The only problem is the sliding glass door on the back, I will have to board that up when I get a chance. Twice today I saw something strange - I saw what looked like a column of smoke descending from the sky. On taking a closer look, I saw what appeared to be red strings floating down from very high up. I couldn't see where they were landing, but this was so unsettling that I didn't go looking for them.

Day 8: Spent the day scavenging for weapons and ammo, and bringing them back to the house. I found quite a few rifles and shotguns at the pawn shop, but not much ammo. I went to Walmart and found a few boxes of ammo, but nothing that fits the guns that I have. I wish I knew more about guns. I saw the red strings again, two more times. At about 12:45 pm, then again around 5pm. This is probably not a good thing. About six, I came across a car that was still idling. There were some guys inside that were covered with the red strings. The guys looked like they hadn't been dead very long, and the red strings were all over their faces, like in their mouths and noses and ears. I got out of there quick.

Day 9: I don't know where this day went. I know the day occurred, but I don't remember anything about it. This is extremely upsetting.

Day 10: Power came on. Internet connected, I am online! Found out about R-virus, reddit users are alive!  The guys in the car with the red strings are gone, but the car is still there.

Day 11: Went across the bridge into Wilmington. Didn't see anything, no survivors. Disappointed. Checked out some more pawn shops, struck a gold mine for ammo. I now have hundreds of rounds for the twelve gauge, and thousands of rounds for a rifle that says "7.62 x 54". The rifle rounds are metal jacketed, so I think that means they are pretty stout as far as rifle rounds go. Anyway, I have more of them than I'll probably ever be able to use.
15
Writings / The R-virus
« Last post by bahgheera on May 24, 2013, 01:32:46 AM »
Thank God there are people out there! I have been wandering since the day everyone died. I am in southeastern North Carolina, somewhere in Brunswick county. I thought I was the last man alive. I haven't seen anyone, alive that is, in at least a week.

When I woke up the first morning, everyone was dead. I ran from house to house banging on doors, tried calling 911, drove to the police station, etc. No one was moving, anywhere. There were wrecked cars in the street, cars everywhere, buses, scooters, vehicles everywhere. I didn't understand what was going on. When I got back to my house, it occurred to me to check reddit and see if my local subreddit knew anything, but by the time I got back to my house the power had gone out. I had heard some explosion type sounds earlier in the day, so it must have been transformers blowing for some reason. I saw a couple of houses on fire as well, and no firetrucks anywhere to be found.

I have moved passed the initial panic that I felt on that first day, and after a few days of staying locked inside my house, I finally decided to venture out and see if anything had changed. The first place I went was to the grocery store down the street from my place. I couldn't even get near the front door of the place, the smell was unbelievable. There was no one there, of course. No one alive, that is. I managed to get to the hardware store a few blocks away and snag a respirator, then I went back to the store and got inside and got what canned goods I needed. I definitely will have food for quite some time. It was a chore though, because inside the store, in the dark, with corpses all around, I could only think about the Walking Dead and other zombie flicks. So you can imagine how difficult it was to steel myself and enter the place. But at this point I've gotten used to doing stuff like that.

So today, the power came on. It is on right now. I almost reverted to full blown panic when the lights suddenly came on, but I controlled myself and flew to the computer. I watched the lights on the cable modem, and surprisingly it connected, and now here I am. I am amazed that there are other people out there! I thought I was the last man alive!

And now I know that it is the R-virus, that it only affected non-redditors. I know there is a small contingent of reddit users across the bridge in Wilmington, so I may venture over there tomorrow and try to seek them out. But for now I am just relieved to know that there are still other humans out there.

Now that I have gotten that out of the way, I have a question - has anyone else noticed the red strings? I've seen them floating down from the sky four times now. I never see where they go, but yesterday while scouting around I found a car with three men in it that were covered in these red strings. The strings are one to two feet long, about 0.1 inch diameter and they seem... fuzzy. I can't think of a better word to describe them. Just fuzzy. Anyway, the strings were all over these three guys, especially around their faces. It looked as if the strings had crawled right into their nostrils and mouths and ears. It was really disgusting. I am getting used to seeing death and decay now, but this was worse than usual. And here's the thing about this - the car was still idling, and these three guys didn't look like everyone else - they seemed "fresh", as if they had died much more recently then the rest of the corpses. I went back today and the car is still there but the bodies and the strings are gone. Every time I see these strings floating down, there are thousands of them and they form a column that goes up hundreds of feet, so high I can't see where they are coming from and I also can't find where they are going. If anyone knows about this, please tell me. For now I am going to stay as far away from them as I can if I see them.

After this post I am going to go next door and "scavenge" a television, on the off-chance that there are any broadcasts, news or just anything at all on the air. If there are any other North Carolina survivors out there, speak up! We need to band together!
16
Writings / Songs
« Last post by bahgheera on May 09, 2013, 06:40:23 PM »
You write your songs and sing them to me
You make your music easy on the ears
But I'm still there day after day
Driving my car home from work
Facing the same fears
Still the same, no matter what you say
So what good did that do?
Now I'm right in front of you
Trying to get through
You think you're watching television
Or walking down the sidewalk
All the while I've got you by the shoulders
Shaking you
Screaming the truth
And you don't even know
It's because I see everything
For what it truly is
And you've been blinded by your selfishness.
17
Writings / Re: Mr. Mostly-Dead
« Last post by bahgheera on May 08, 2013, 12:32:06 AM »
Well, good evening sir,
I am Mr. Mostly-Dead,
And I'll be your nightmare tonight.
Welcome to the House of Dust,
I hope you will find something dreadful
That we can serve you.
Can I start you with something simple,
Maybe the inability to run
While being pursued by
An invisible horror,
Or an angry, jibbering nun?
Or maybe murdered by a loved one
Is more your taste.
We also have a lovely Hag
Who will sit on your chest,
And prevent you from breathing
Until it is almost too late,
Startling you awake to a vision
Of her dashing from your room.
What's that? None of those?
Well let me show you our menu.
It is packed with superb
Visions and terrors
Created by chef, just for you.
Now you may notice,
Our chef is a bit
Of a nightmare himself,
He is quite the ghastly fellow.
But he does his job well,
He's the best in the land,
We're proud to have him
Here in Limbo.
Now, back to the menu,
You simply must order something,
Ah, you say you've found something to your taste?
What's this? Flying,
Alone in the clouds,
Is the order you'd like to place?
Oh no sir,
You do not understand.
That one is not for you.
That is the childrens menu you're looking at,
Flying simply will not suffice.
Turn the page,
And gaze upon
The delights we have in store.
Gryphons that chase
And gnaw, and chew,
And hands that come up
Through the floor.
Floating ladies that chase,
And disturb the soul,
People you don't see
Who aren't really there,
But nevertheless, pursue.
I'd recommend
Starting out small,
Maybe a goblin to battle.
Then an appetizer
Of bone-men who laugh,
And cackle and shriek and rattle.
Then on to the main course,
We offer the finest,
In unpleasant psyche disruption.
Things with no faces
Devils and warlocks,
All sorts of agents of darkness.
Lastly, dessert.
Something special, I think.
You'll find this
Nowhere but here.
A special torment
We've made just for you,
An extremely tall man
Who smells of mothballs and moldy earth,
With the face of a bird,
With eyes the size of dinner plates,
A cowled cloak is his garb,
He stands in the shadows
While slowly rocking back and forth,
Claws extended,
Waiting for you to scream.
He can run so fast
You can't see him move,
He'll be on you quicker
Than you can blink.
And when he catches you
(Because catch you, he will)
He wraps you up in the shadows
That he's pulled along with him,
Wraps you up like a spider's dinner,
So tight you can't see anything.
Perhaps you'll wake up,
Or maybe you never will - difficult to say, really.
Ah, that will do you? Alright, so,
Come again, sir,
We would love to have you back
As soon as you can.
Say tomorrow night?
We'll be waiting for you!
18
Writings / Mr. Mostly-Dead
« Last post by bahgheera on April 09, 2013, 12:09:13 AM »
Well, good evening sir,
I am Mr. Mostly-Dead,
And I'll be your nightmare tonight.
Welcome to the House of Dust,
I hope we can give you a fright.

Can I start you with something simple,
Maybe the inability to run
While being pursued by
An invisible horror,
Or an angry, jibbering nun?

Or maybe murdered by a loved one
Is more your taste.
We also have a lovely Hag
Who will sit on your chest,
And prevent you from breathing
Until it is almost too late,
And you wake with a start and a gag.

What's that? None of those?
Well let me show you our menu.
It is packed with superb
Visions and terrors
Created by chef, just for you.

Now you may notice,
Our chef is a bit
Of a nightmare himself,
He is quite the ghastly fellow.
But he does his job well,
He's the best in the land,
We're proud to have him in Limbo.

Now, back to the menu,
You simply must order something,
Ah, you say you've found something to your taste?
What's this? Flying,
Alone in the clouds,
Is the order you'd like to place?
Oh no sir,
You do not understand.
That one is not for you.
That is the childrens menu
You're looking at,
Flying will simply not do.

Turn the page,
And gaze upon
The delights we have in store.
Gryphons that chase
And gnaw, and chew,
And hands that come up
Through the floor.

Floating ladies that chase,
And disturb the soul,
And a phantasm or two.
People you don't see
Who aren't really there,
But nevertheless, pursue.

I'd recommend
Starting out small,
Maybe a goblin to battle.
Then an appetizer
Of bone-men who laugh,
And cackle and shriek and rattle.

Then on to the main course,
We offer the finest,
In unpleasant psyche disruption.
Things with no faces
Devils and warlocks,
All agents of dark corruption.

Lastly, desert.
Something special, I think.
You'll find this
Nowhere but here.
A special torment
We've made just for you,


19
Writings / Shadow People
« Last post by bahgheera on March 23, 2013, 09:01:08 PM »
There is a thing,
A dark creature,
A shadowy being
Filled with hate and evil.
It's been alive
Since Vlad put his victims
To the stake.
When Ivan took Siberia,
The thing was there
Whispering hazardous thoughts
Into his mind.
It's up to no good,
Never has been
And it is very hard to see,
Never allowing itself,
To be in my direct line of sight.
It comes to my room
At night
It stands in the corner
Waiting, watching,
I can feel it,
And I can see it
As long as I'm not looking.
Sometimes, I can see it
Go by a doorway,
Or a window,
Or around the corner of the house.
Rarely in the daylight,
Almost always in the dark,
Lurking in the dusk,
Standing on the edge of sunlit sanity.
It's always there,
Just out of range.
It wants me
For some purpose,
Something that is not good,
And I don't know how much longer
I can resist.
I heard him tonight,
He was in my room again,
While I was trying to sleep.
He told me something.
He said that tomorrow
He is bringing his friends.
20
Writings / Cornfield
« Last post by bahgheera on March 23, 2013, 08:16:26 PM »
Where am I?
I'm walking down the street, on the sidewalk,
A normal, everyday scenario.
There are people here with me,
Walking up and down, hurrying here and there
Carrying out the tasks relevant to their daily lives.
There is something odd here,
I can't put my finger on it,
But all of these people going to and fro,
I can't see their faces.
Each one is obscured
By a kind of cloud, a darkness,
An unsettling mist that distorts features,
Obscures identity, minimizes recognition.
It occurs to me that they want to get me.
I can't see it, but I know
They are staring at me as they pass,
Glaring with malevolence and animosity,
Wishing me harm, intending injury,
Plotting the murder of myself.
Suddenly, I am struck by the terror of this,
And I duck into a building only to find
More of the same.
Now there is nowhere to go
But back out into the street.
As I head for the door, there is a mirror
I must pass.
Don't look.
Back in the street, everyone is gone.
All is silence.
I look behind, and ahead, up and down,
And there is no one.
I did this.
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