Bright Blushes of Color by Jason Zapata

The trees shed their leaves
In bright blushes of color
When your hand - still warm with summer
Reaches out and claims my own

A Public Service Announcement

The recent tectonic activity that occurred on 8/24/11 has caused long dormant deposits of Solanum to be released. Solanum is the chemical agent responsible for the zombification process. These deposits were located near deep impact drilling sites throughout Pennsylvania. Already partially uncovered – the earthquakes along the Atlantic Seaboard released massive amounts of Solanum into our atmosphere.

With the arrival of hurricane Irene – the airborne Solanum will fall to the earth as a contagious precipitation. There is a high risk of infection for the living. Decaying flesh exposed to the rain may become reanimated. Please review your evacuation plans and take a last inventory of your supplies.


This is not a test








← Current
Threat Level

"The Bride Ghost" By Abigail Larson

Abigail Larson loves all things gothic and spooky. Literary influences such as Edgar Allan Poe and Lewis Carroll are the inspirations behind many of her works. Abigail’s art instills a viewer with a sense of dreariness and longing that fits the theme she’s chosen. Her early work consisted of ink drawings and watercolor paintings, but she now specializes in digital art.

Abigail Larson has a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from Virginia Commonwealth University. Her concentration was in drawing and illustration. Abigail’s work has been featured in several magazines such as Ink Magazine. Her creations have also been displayed in prominent galleries such as the Gallery Nucleus in Alhambra, California and The Poe Museum in Richmond, Virginia.

Abigail’s greatest artistic influences have been Arthur Rackham, John William Waterhouse, and Edward Gorey. She keeps busy creating art for private clients, illustrating books, and maintaining her fascination with those things that go bump in the night.

I highly recommend viewing her gallery on Deviant Art.

She also has a website you can view: http: www.abigaillarson.com

"Dance For Me" by Jason Zapata

From the refuge of a lonely rooftop
I watch paupers and princes fight
Their battles fill the streets below
There’s no reason to get involved
In the class warfare being waged
So with a half blind, mute charm
I walk self consciously amongst them
Embraced as the King of Fools

She is our singular commonality
This kind and innocent gypsy girl
Drawing crowds when she dances
A princess of the Court of Miracles
Where one can witness the wonders
Only thieves and frauds can create
She’s the only wonder I care about
So Esmeralda won’t you dance for me?

But such neutrality cannot last and
We’re soon embroiled in the conflict
I want to protect her and offer
Sanctuary from the Frollos and Clopins
Who covet and seek to possess her
Notre Dame’s bells are tolling now
And this war may have another casualty
So Esmeralda won’t you dance for me?

"The Jester's Mask" - Chapter One

Chapter One: A Girl to Die For

When Sam Spinnel locked eyes with her, the relentless ache of need filled him. Through the thin haze of hash and cigarette smoke he could see her at the other end of the crowded basement. She looked at him over the rim of her red plastic cup. Long black hair framed her delicate face and her body was a collection of perfectly proportioned curves. A drunken grin spread across Sam’s face as he worked his way quickly through the partygoers towards his prospective conquest.

Along with his other brothers in the Phi Alpha Gamma, Sam came to the neighboring house’s basement party with two priorities in mind. The first was already accomplished having finished his ninth Coors Light. He intended to complete the second as he closed in on his quarry. She was some sorority chick hoping to get laid by the looks of the tube top and skirt she wore. All of which left little to Sam’s limited imagination.

“Hello handsome,” she said in dusky voice. The girl slid over and patted the space next to her on the last steps of the staircase leading out of the basement.

“What’s goin’ on gorgeous?” Sam drawled.

He fought against his deteriorating motor skills to make as graceful an approach as possible. He sat down beside her. They were pressed close together having to share the narrow step. She wore a fragrance that filled his nostrils with a sweet aroma. He stopped himself short of sniffing her like some sort of animal and looked back into the crowd. Sam struggled to come up with something to say, and then realized he hadn’t even given his name yet.

“My name is Sam,” he said, extending a sweaty hand.

“Glory,” she replied taking his hand, “It’s nice to meet you Sam; you look like you’re having yourself a good time.”

“I’m having a better time now that I’m talking with you,” the frat boy slurred. He was proud of himself for saying something so smooth off the cuff and told himself to remember that line.

Glory’s full lips blossomed into a smile as she placed her hand atop Sam’s knee, “I’m sure the night will only get better for me, too.”

She gave him a wink and took another sip of her drink as she rubbed his knee softly with her other hand.

Sam was wordless with surprise and a growing lust. He spent most of his free time lifting weights with his fraternity brothers for the sole purpose of picking up women. But Sam never hoped to snag a girl like this in a basement party. The frat boy was very pleased with himself and looked out to the crowd to flag down his friends.

The crowd was gathered in loose pockets around a long table, which was being used for a game of flip cup. Sam tried to focus on the faces of the partygoers but found his sight blurred. The loud cheering and music that filled the room made him dizzy. He was increasingly impatient with trying to find his friends, wanted his eyes filled only with the image of Glory. After futilely scanning the room one more time, he returned his gaze to her. She stared at him with amorous eyes.

Screw the guys, Sam thought as he wrapped an arm around Glory’s shoulders,
“Hey, would you like to head out of here for a while?”

“What do you have in mind, Sam?” she asked. Her eyebrow arched suspiciously at him.

“Well, I -- we could go for a walk. You know…it’s a nice night and I just like to hang out with you. Here is good. I mean if you want -- it’s totally up to you,” he stuttered out. He was frantic in his effort not to scare her away.

Glory only threw back her head and laughed. She slid her hand up the inside of his thigh and said, “Of course I’d like to go for a walk with you handsome.”

Elation filled Sam as he led the way up the steps. His balance was beginning to betray him, but he forced himself steady with victory so close at hand. A plan was already made up in his alcohol sodden mind by the time he reached the top of the steps.

They would incidentally make their way towards his frat house. On the way there he would state how tired he was and ask if she wanted to watch a movie. With a little privacy, it wouldn’t take too long to liberate her breasts from the elastic prison of that tube top. The plan had worked before. Sam saw no reason why it wouldn’t now.

They began to make their way up Whitney Street, which ran north of Saint Joseph’s College. The student apartments that lined the street weren’t much to look at. They were worse looking on any given weekend with lawn chairs, dirty paper plates, and crushed plastic cups littering their shabby porches. Music drifted out of the houses. Students lounged on the rails and steps of the porches they passed.


Sam continued to slur as he asked Glory questions about what classes she took at the college and if she was in a sorority. She didn’t seem to notice though. Said had not declared her major yet. She found theology interesting, though. Glory wasn’t in a sorority, but she loved going to parties to meet new people.

“What about you? What are you aspiring to become Sam?” she asked.

Hopefully not a college dropout, Sam thought to himself. He realized it might not sound too impressive if he mentioned the fact he was on academic probation, “Business, I’m studying business.”

“You’re going to get out there and make some money, huh Sam?” she asked teasingly.

Sam’s only reply was to shake his head up and down as he tried to conserve what little energy remained for the climb up the hill. He also needed to respond to any questions Glory asked. For the practical reason of keeping himself steady and establishing some intimacy he reached out for her and they walked hand in hand.

“Let’s go this way,” she said, steering him down a side street that was a short cut to the Phi Alpha Gamma house. Sam was relieved. He was all too aware of the increasing fatigue felt with every step.

The sight of her kept him going. She was just too beautiful to be real. Her long, black hair danced in the breeze. The motion of her thighs mesmerized. Realizing he was close now to his destination Sam decided to make his move.

“So, uh, would you like to crash at my place a while and watch a movie?” he asked.

“I’d love to hang out for a while Sam,” Glory said.

She tugged him close and leaned her head on his shoulder. The act nearly caused the tired Sam to tumble over, but he gained a second wind. He was close to sealing the deal now. The couple entered the nearly deserted Phi Alpha Gamma house and moved by a slumbering frat boy bathed in the light of the T.V. he left on.

Sam was grateful he had a room on the first floor. He opened his door and flipped on the light switch. The clutter of his cloths and unread textbooks were swept off the bed and onto the floor. Glory sat in the cleared space as he fumbled a DVD into the player. Sam flipped the light switch back off as he fell exhausted beside Glory on the bed.

The darkened room flickered with the light of the television screen, but Sam paid the images no mind. Free of all distractions, he let his eyes roam unreservedly over Glory’s body. He pulled her close beside him on the bed. Sam was drunk and taking liberties at this point. Glory didn’t need any prompting and he could feel her small hands work up his tee shirt. She pulled it up and off of him. Sam followed suite and snaked his numbed fingers beneath her tube top, the elastic fabric stretched until both his hands cradled her warm breasts.

Inside he knew something was wrong, but even then he could not stop. Sam could not bear to stop holding her. He must not stop. Stubbornly he fought to hang on a bit longer wanting only to accomplish his second priority. God, please let me have enough left in the tank to get hard. Please.

Darkness fell. Strangely they were already undressed and grinding against each other. Her strong thighs held Sam firmly in place as he continued to ram deeper inside her. They rolled around the damp sweaty bed; Glory refused to release her tenacious hold of Sam. He didn’t think he could dislodge her even if he wanted and that was a wonderful thing.

Again and again he lay dead in her arms only to be willed onward by her caresses and kisses. Then gradually a pain began to fill Sam’s chest. He fell onto his back with Glory rolling atop him. The agony spread to his arms and legs, it felt like his veins were being stretched until they were ripped apart.

“Stop,” Sam moaned helplessly.

“Stop? Why would I ever want to do that Sam?” Glory asked. She ran her tongue down the length of Sam’s cheek.

“Please…something’s wrong,” he begged. He turned his head to look at her directly and knew just how right he was. Somehow Glory knew. Glory didn’t care.

“Oh Sam, I was hoping to let you just sleep through this, but if you insist… wake up,” she purred in his ear.

When Sam found he could open his eyes again the exhaustion he felt before returned fourfold. His eyes burned and his throat was horse with dryness. Pain wracked his heart as it pounded within his chest. It was at that point he realized he could not move his arms or legs. Glory lay entangled with him. Sam could feel her leg across his and the bare flesh of her chest pressed against his own.

“Oh, Sam”, she said as she climbed atop him, “You really over did it at the party. All that alcohol you drank in the last few hours and the long walk back to your room… If you bothered to drink some water before you decided to try and bed me you could have just slept through my devouring of your soul. Silly, silly boy.”

She was mounted atop him now. In the dim light of his room he could make her out and what he saw sent tears of horror down his burning cheeks. Dark horns now protruded from the top of Glory’s skull, her eyes were pupil-less and glowed faintly. But what shoved Sam’s already strained mind into madness were her hands. The small soft fingers were replaced with sharp talons. The tips of which scratched his chest as she used them to brace herself upright.

“I was already feeding on you in the basement. I didn’t even need to touch you for that; the aura of lust around you was enough for me at first. I wasted no time in amplifying it. Then it was about establishing physical contact with you. It created a bond of the direst need through touch, so you could think of nothing except the conquest of me. This is never much work given your type,” she laughed, running a taloned finger down the length of Sam’s chest.

“Through touch,” she continued, “I was able to read your mind. Not that there was anything very interesting there, but all I really needed was the knowledge of where you lived. The convenient short cut doesn’t seem so convenient now, huh, handsome.”

Sam could only respond by moaning weakly and shedding what tears his dehydrated tear ducts would allow.

“You were so desperate to have me; you couldn’t even understand your body was already shutting down. I also sipped at your soul the entire walk back to your room. You passed out half way in removing my top,” she said, shaking her ample breasts over Sam’s face.

“You were so good to me Sam, lying perfectly still as I wrapped myself about you and drained your very essence. Dying in your sleep is so much easier. I cannot feed on you mercifully if you are awake, but I think my job is done here. I’m sure you won’t be leaving this bed. At least not alive anyway,” Glory finished.

Somewhere in Sam’s mind it occurred for him to scream. He wanted to, but he couldn’t force the sound out. He watched helplessly as Glory climbed off him. He thought he could see some sort of wings behind her, but the room was so dark and his eyes were failing him.

“Where is that tube top Sam,” she asked rhetorically, as she scanned the room one more time before heading to his dresser.

After flinging a few of his shirts to the floor, she pulled out a large Saint Joseph t-shirt and laid it over the top of the dresser. Then it seemed that she shimmered or the air around her grew foggy. She looked normal again! Gone were the horns and talon hands. The wings were gone as well. She put on the large tee shirt and took a moment to examine herself, letting out a small giggle at how she looked.

She sauntered back over to Sam, bent down and grabbed a fist full of his hair. Glory kissed him hard on the mouth, “Sam you were wonderful. It’s a shame we could only do this once. I really hate leaving you like this, but I can’t have too many people seeing me. Don’t want to be raising any suspicion. You know?”

Sam tried to say something, anything. She looked human now. Maybe he could appeal to her, maybe he could bribe her -- beg her to spare him. Tears of a growing sense of mortality and desperation spilled from his eyes. The creature he thought was a girl named Glory wiped them away.

“Goodnight Sam,” she said, as she stood up. She walked over to the DVD player and turned it off, then left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

In the pitch blackness of the room Sam Spinnel knew he was dying. He was terrified of the creature coming back to finish him off, but something told him it wouldn’t. He didn’t want to die. Not like this. Of all the women in his life, the only one he could think of now was his mother and how badly he wanted to be home.

“Home,” he rasped as the overstrained chambers of his heart collapsed.

"Samurai Spirit 7" by Stanley Lau

Stanley “Artgerm” Lau is a top artist whose work is posted on Deviantart. His profile has over 6 million page views. He is also a co-founder of Imaginary Friends Studios. Imaginary has grown to a stable of 30 full-time digital artists between its two studios in Singapore and Jakarta. During that time, Mr. Lau worked with big-name international clients on major entertainment and promotional projects.

Artgerm was formally trained in visual communication and advertising. He is skilled in digital painting, graphic design, and digital imaging. Artgerm's works have garnered much attention. His art can be found in many publications such as Spectrum, Expose, ImaginaryFX, Corel Painter and Fusion Junction.

You can view his gallery here:

I, Dracula: Part Three

There are some divisions no force can reconcile
My presence is a blasphemy the faithful resists
To keep humanity ignorant such evil exists
I dwelled in the Carpathian Mountains in self exile
Power and wealth I began to gradually compile
Plotting a conquest even God could not dismiss
Fulfilling my role as adversary and antithesis
The only purpose I held to be worthwhile

Long centuries passed with all suspicion eluded
Until I decided to conquer Victorian England
Whose power and influence continued to expand
Once there I planned to keep my operations secluded
Within strategic positions making discovery precluded
And amass an undead army no nation could withstand
I had only to wait for the solicitor to arrive in my homeland
Assuring the real estate transactions were concluded

Young Jonathan Harker wished to leave in a hurry
Having helped me acquire the Carfax Abbey Estate
Back to England where his precious fiancé did await
A discovery many documents and deeds would bury
Was an image which made my eyes grow blurry
It was my lost love Elisabetta Reincarnate
A miracle affirming the machinations of fate
As I gazed upon the portrait of Mina Murray


Part Two
Part One

"A New Path" - By Jason Zapata

I will not allow this history to play out again
My cyclical existence maintains but one purpose
To force this restless spirit into conflict once more
Fighting futile struggles with inevitable conclusions
No longer will I participate in a self-perpetuating purgatory
Haunted with the specters of unrequited love and defeat
Accepting this fate would be an act of capitulation
Decisions I’ve made created the circuit before me
But I renounce those choices and walk a new path

‘Stiltskin Inc.

Perhaps I should have insisted on seeing an offer letter
But during the interview process no one really suspects
Their boss of being a gnome with a napoleon complex
Tragically, the working conditions proved to be no better
Under sweatshop conditions I spun gold from bales of straw
Maddened by unattainable quotas and demands I work faster
I grew to despise this cruel and diminutive taskmaster
Benefiting from the absence of a union or even a labor law
A windowless room and loom were my only enjoyment
There was little to negotiate with given the excess labor pool
The hateful little man would just find another desperate fool
Who’d tell another grim tale of failed gainful employment

"The Rain" by Jason Zapata

It’s raining again in this world I carry
A sky of troubled clouds drift ominously
Over a turbulent sea whose waves crash
Against the windswept shore I stand on
The dull rumble of distant thunder sounds
Reverberating throughout its somber depths

My body is the boundary of this place
But I'm a stranger unwilling to understand
What this world is truly a reflection of
As the rain continues to fall incessantly
A familiar spirit traverses a distance
I never realized had grown between us

Small feet leave a long trail in damp sand
She stops once she is standing before me
Her dark robes and black hair are drenched
And though rainfall streams down her cheeks
I know she is crying when she asks me

Why won’t you stop the rain?

"Forgotten Knight" by Sina Pakzad Kasra

Sina.P.Kasra is an illustrator, concept designer, and graphic artist. He was born in 1986 and resides in Tehran. Sina's work has appeared in book-covers, posters, television, and animations. His favorite artists include Ashley Wood, Ben Templesmith, and Lucian Freud. In term of his digital art, Sina utilizes a Wacon Intuos4. He is also versed with using acrylic colors on canvas.

I highly recommend you view Sina P. Kasra’s deviant art gallery.

He also has a pretty nifty blog.

A Girl Named Salem

What did I do to become so feared and maligned
A guiltless woman puritanical men apprehended
Was I really so threatening to Christendom’s kind

My persecution caused by a child’s troubled mind
Baseless accusations zealots eagerly defended
What did I do to become so feared and maligned

To coerce a confession I was tortured and confined
But their every allegation I stubbornly contended
Was I really so threatening to Christendom’s kind

My life posed no threat to the belief they enshrined
Yet my death was a cause a priest commended
What did I do to become so feared and maligned

Final appeals for leniency and reason were declined
There was no escape from the stake I was appended
Was I really so threatening to Christendom’s kind

Only echoes of screams and ashes were left behind
Of this life hypocrites and fanatics required ended
What did I do to become so feared and maligned
Was I really so threatening to Christendom’s kind

I,Dracula: Part Two by Jason Zapata

I ruthlessly sought to end Wallachia’s state of unrest
By enslaving the Boyars who could not escape guilt
Traitors who labored until Poenari’s walls were rebuilt
Because they dared to aid the Ottomans in their conquest
Those slaves who survived were impaled on my behest
On the shores of the Raul Roameni their blood was spilt
Where I had recovered Elisabeta’s body from the silt
With my power secure I began the campaign in Bucharest

Within the region’s woods my forces were concealed
My countrymen attacked what enemies we could beat
Striking their flanks hard and then quick to retreat
For fear that our location to the enemy be revealed
But Sultan Mehmed’s soldiers refused to yield
Forced into a pitched battle we could not compete
The proud sons of Wallachia eventually knew defeat
My army and ambitions lay slain on the battlefield

News of my loss and capture was warmly received
As I was dragged through the Turkish army helplessly
Jeering faces laughed and refuse was hurled at me
Victory over their most hated foe was finally achieved
The headsman ensured my pilloried neck was cleaved
My severed head was displayed for the enemy to see
Until a gyspy man would rob the turks of their trophy
From Constantinople’s walls my head was retrieved

The gypsy carried my remains to cursed scholomance
Where the Solomonari toiled to have my body restored
In exchange I became a disciple of their dark lord
With black magic and vampiric unlife I was enhanced
I would master the dark arts in this haunted expanse
In the defense of His Kingdom I had wielded a sword
But my battles, my prayers were ultimately ignored
So at God’s expense I would see my power advance




Part Three
Click here to read: Part One

"Drink Bzrk" By Loopy Dave + "How much of a movie nerd are you?" Test

This artist does a wonderful job with this piece. It celebrates and pokes fun at fan boys of fantasy and science fiction alike. Loopy Dave is an Australian illustrator who specializes in satire.

Now on to the fun stuff. Your "how much of a movie nerd are you?" Test.

Having looked at this piece, how many items did you recognize surrounding the well endowed woman? The more items you recognized before focusing solely on the barbarian babe determines your level of geek-hood.

Bye the Bye - I will not be divulging my score.





A. Klingon bat'leth (star trek)
B. Spear of Destiny/Spear of Longinus features in the first Hellboy movie, 'Constantine' as well as a host of others
C. Holy Grenade of Antioch from 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail'
D. Obiwan's light sabre (star wars)
E. Xenas' throwing chakram (Xena, Princess Warrior)
F. Mr. Pointy, from 'Buffy the Vampire slayer' - be careful - Buffy's stake may not be the only thing you see if you google 'Mr. Pointy' - don't say I didn't warn you.
G. Davy Jones's key from 'Pirates of the Caribbean'
H. Batarang
I. The one ring to rule them all from 'Lord of the Rings'
J. Idol from 'Raiders of the Lost Ark'
K. Necronomicon from 'Army of Darkness'
L. Samwise Gamgees sword from 'Lord of the Rings'
M. Flagon with the dragon (has the pellet with the poison) from 'The Court Jester'
N. Asterix's Helmet
O. Not from a movie - just my little shout out to Serge Birault
P. Buffy's Sythe from the End of Days episode (yes, I am THAT nerdy)
Q. Hagar the Horrible
R. Necklace reads 'LOOPY', but probably too hard to see at this size

You Noticed:
0-1: Obviously you were distracted by the naked woman.
3-6: Impressive - not a true nerd, but you obviously knows a thing or two about pointless movie props
7-12: Let your Nerd Flag fly - a truly monumental achievement in movie trivia recognition. People may write poems about you, throw you parades and mention your name in hushed reverent tones. Then again, probably not.
13-18: Okay, now its getting a little scary - you obviously have god like knowledge of the topic at hand and us mere mortals tremble at your very presence. Unfortunately it also may indicate that you need to stop watching so much TV/movies and do something else with your life - you know, like your mother is always telling you.

"Salem Brownstone" By John Harris Dunning & Nikhil Singh

“Salem Brownstone” by John Harris Dunning & Nikhil Singh is a stylized graphic novel. The tale centers on Salem Brownstone, a young man who has adopted a mansion from his deceased father. Salem begins to explore the mansion and gradually uncovers the truth about his father. Jedediah Brownstone struggled against The Dark Elders of Mu’brick: a race of shadowy beings seeking a magic artifact now in Salem’s possession.

The story is fairly short and very stylized. The ink pen drawings of the characters are eye catching, especially Jynx Monkey Girl, a direct homage to Theodore Seuss Geissel (Dr. Seuess) in terms of art style. The use of ink pen also creates a dark and mysterious atmosphere, complementing the story.

Salem Brownstone is a bit too brief. Readers would have benefited from a better understanding/origin story of Mu’brick or the mysterious Lola Q. Though Salem Brownstone is meant to be a short, art driven piece. I definitely felt a little content starved and thought the story too short.

Review of "Rex Mundi: The Guardian of the Temple"

“Rex Mundi: The Guardian of the Temple” written by Arvid Nelson and illustrated by Eric J is an impressive graphic novel. The story takes place in Paris. The year is 1933, but with the backdrop of a revisionist past. Avrid Nelson’s France along with all of Europe is still ruled by monarchies. The Ottoman and Holy Roman empires still exist. Guilds and knightly orders exert influence on society, while sorcery is very real and policed by the Church. All these themes are flawlessly interwoven. Despite the factual and historical differences, the tale feels like it takes place in 1930’s Paris.

The story’s protagonist is Dr. Julien Sauniere. The intrigue begins when Father Marin asks him to investigate the theft of a medieval scroll from his church. During the course of Juelien’s investigation, he discovers a series or ritual killings tied to a secret society. But as he digs deeper into the mystery of the missing scroll, he catches the attention of those who don’t want their secrets revealed…

Eric J makes this world come to life. The visual design of the cloths, furniture, and architecture is historically accurate. Using full-page spreads of newspaper stories to give the readers a sense of the time and players in this altered world is a stroke of genius. Eric’s illustrations work well with Nelson’s story to immerse the reader in a tale of conspiracy and magic. I haven’t read anything this good since The Sandman Series.

"Elements - Fire" - By Cathrine Langwagen

Cathrine Langwagen is a digital artist who specializes in fantasy and natural element themed works. A resident of Cardiff, Wales - her inspirations come from nature, myths, and fairy tales. In creating her art, Cathrine primarily uses a Wacom Tablet and Adobe Photoshop.

Ms. Langwagen's work has been awarded the Daily Deviation multiple times. I highly recommend visiting her gallery.Prints of her work are available on her website: http://www.cassiopeiaart.com

I, Dracula: Part One by Jason Zapata

By the Order of The Dragon I was knighted
To defend Wallachia and faithfully support
His holiness Pope Pius II's crusade to thwart
The Turks who left Constantinople blighted
Crescent moons marked that land as benighted
Many prayed for the fall of the Ottoman Court
I never possessed a tongue for such a resort
Battle was the only psalm I wished recited

The Sultan’s claim of sovereignty I would refute
Treating his demands and envoys with disrespect
Turbans nailed to their heads had the desired effect
Of showing I held Mehmed’s authoring in disrepute
Denying him the men and gold he took as tribute
The riches of Wallachia were no longer his to collect
My beautiful wife and kingdom I swore to protect
Against my hated adversaries that were en route

Safe from danger I intended Elizabeta to be kept
But Poenari’s Castle’s walls could not withhold
The army of Romanian Janissaries that did enfold
Life in captivity was something she could not accept
So from the heights of her besieged tower she leapt
...She fell into the Raul Doamnei that ran so cold
The sodden remains of my wife I would behold
Tears shed mourning her were the last I ever wept

In blood soaked butchery I avenged the lover I failed
Word of my excessive barbarity became widespread
One act in particular filled Sultan Mehmed with dread
My forests of flesh made from Turks I had impaled
For days these dying soldiers screamed and wailed
As I gathered their blood in bowls to dip my bread
A mad king who surrounded himself with the dead
Giving no rest or quarter to the enemies I assailed



Click here to read: Part Two

"House of Leaves" by Mark Z. Danielewski

"House of Leaves" by Mark Z. Danielewski is jarringly unconventional and instills a deep sense of dread within its readers. Through the use of elaborate text arrangement, numerous footnotes, (some referencing non-existent books), and multiple narrators - Danielewski creates a dark and disorientating tale.

House of Leaves begins with the first-person narration of Johnny Truant. Johnny is a troubled tattoo parlor employee who stumbles upon a manuscript written by a blind, elderly man named Zampano.This turns out to be a written account of a fictional, documentary film called The Navidson Record. Johnny begins to read Zampano’s notes and becomes drawn into the maddening tale.

The manuscript describes the Navidson family as they move into a mysterious house in Virginia whose interior exceeds its exterior. This oddity is quickly overshadowed by the sudden appearance of a closet in the family’s living room. A closet that inexplicable expands into tunnels and caverns of utter darkness. This paradox draws members of the Navidson family and others in. Dementia and death shortly follow.

Johnny Truant’s own grip on reality falters as his obsession in completing Zampano’s work takes over his life. The darkness and fear haunting the Navidson’s family soon materializes in his own life when a beast of shadow stalks him. But is this an actual monster? Or is it a figment of Truant’s own mind? As the credibility of Johnny’s narration erodes throughout the story – what can the reader consider real?

Danielewski uses the myth of the Minotaur in the Labyrinth. Is this done to allude to those beings lost within the Navidson home’s inky depths? Is it an allusion to Johnny Truant being lost to the darkness within his own mind? Or is the reader the misshapen creature trapped within the maze of Danielewski’s words? Read the House of Leaves and decide for yourself.

"Path of Petals" By Linda Bergkvist

~

The moss, underneath the touch of her fingertips, was thick, and sticky; when she retracted her trembling digits, it clung to the satin skin. Stubbornly, bitterly; scented in a cloyingly sweet way that became almost overwhelming, as she rubbed her fingertips together.

It smells like blood.

That was her first thought, and it was strong. It nailed itself firmly to the walls of her mind, and lingered there as she turned to rush deeper into the woods. Soft, silky tears streaming down ivory white cheeks.

Pale blossoms clutched to her chest, as if their bridal-veil petals could somehow banish the harsh words she had spoken - and those that had been spoken to her.
~

It's interesting that Linda Bergkvist included the text above with this piece. Linda is a Swedish artist who specializes in fantasy art. She likes to include Elves and the Fae in her creations. Fashion Photograph serves as another influence and we see this in the garb her characters wear in her paintings.

Linda's work as a digital artist began when she received a Wacom on her 20th birthday. Her future ambition is to create a book on dark fairy tales that will feature her artwork. You can see more of Linda Bergkvist's work by checking out her gallery on deviant art.

She also has her work displayed on her website: http://www.furiae.com/index.php