Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   youngsters categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


Alone in a Field (standard:horror, 367 words)
Author: RimmerAdded: Sep 29 2008Views/Reads: 3246/0Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A poem inspired by all the things that go bump in the night.
 



Alone in a Field 

As I stand alone, This dark and stormy night. Evil walks under the
moonlit sky. Alas I have no fear. 

On this night I have seen: The dead walk old familiar fields. Ghosts
given leave, To maim and kill. 

The bats soar through the night. Crying for their next meal. While along
the forest's edge. Monstrous eyes glow a murderous red. 

At the church ruins, On top of the hill. Witches dance and warlocks
laugh. Practicing their black arts. 

From the bogs I could hear, The werewolves howl with murderous delight.
While the undead drank heavily, From anything that bleed. 

Demons crawl from dark places, In search of maidens. For trophies
they'll carry them home. And gnaw on them tell they hit bone. 

The nights growing darker now. The fog is settling. Clouds are rolling
in. And lightning is threatening. 

Soon true evil will emerge. From the ground it will rise. Not living! 
Not dead! He is their overlord. 

To him homage will be paid, And evil will gather. So Satin can collect
his tax, From the souls who have passed over. 

All this I have seen, And still I am not afraid. I've been standing here
alone Here in this field for many a year. 

Every Halloween I see the same. The ghosts, goblins, and demons. That
stands, float or crawl. Prey on all manner of creatures big and small. 

Starving, bleeding, maiming and killing. The righteous, the brave, the
rich and the poor. All emerge from their graves. Not much more than 
skeletons they arise. 

They ache to be whole again. With hollow eyes the search the night. To
wear your skin, And feast on warm flesh. 

These to I have seen. I didn't try to stop them. Not because I was
afraid. I simply didn't care. 

You see, the humans put me here, In this empty field. They staked me to
the ground. Then walked away never shedding a tear. 

Every night and day For seven long years I'm made to work. Whether I
want to or not. 

I'll tell you something, Being a scarecrow sucks! Except for Halloween,
When I can't help but laugh at the sites I see. 


   


Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Rimmer has 11 active stories on this site.
Profile for Rimmer, incl. all stories
Email: lordsmeghead@hotmail.com

stories in "horror"   |   all stories by "Rimmer"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy