BE AFRAID... BE VERY AFRAID.

Guest Author RichardB. checks in with a trio of chilling tales for Halloween season.

This image is AI-generated... that in itself scares me. (DannyM.)

Welcome back, Richard! Glad to hear you've been doing some writing. I'm a lifelong astronomy buff, and my almanac indicates that this year's "hunter's moon" will rise on October 17th. What say you?

Hunter’s Moon (by RichardB.)

Listen my children and you shall hear

the screams at night, the sound of fear

The echoed horrors in the dark

as Satan’s children howl and bark

Their eyes glow silver, their coats are gray

they come to kill, and slip away

This hunter’s moon is bright and clear

the pack is restless, the prey is near

A man walks softly in the forest this night

armed with cunning he hopes he might…

He seeks the old one with fangs stained red

a coat pure white, the pack he’s led

for many years, and many more

unless this man performs his chore

The old one tastes the scented air

and leads the pack, they’ll soon be there

to rip his throat, and watch him fall

and sing to Satan their fearful call.

The man listens calmly to the coming sound

of paws that touch lightly the cold wet ground

He climbs an oak in time to see

those glistening eyes around the tree

A thousand teeth in snapping jaws

lash up at him, He stares in awe

He thinks for a moment, and pulls from his pouch

a vial of lambs blood, and squats down to a crouch

The beasts are in frenzy and viscously leap

The old one is patient and silently creeps

to a pile of faggots nearby where he waits

for the man to make his fatal mistake

As quick as they come they all disappear

while the old one listens and watches so near

The man is astounded. Where did they go?

Surely a trap awaits below

Remembering the old one did not show his face

he looks to the land and there finds a trace

A stick that moves rhythmically without any wind

He smiles and knows the old one has sinned

This broken law, this unwritten code

of who is the hunted shall soon end this ode

The vial he throws on the pile of sticks

and onto the old one the lambs blood does drip

It sticks in his fur all over his back

The smell of this food soon draws the whole pack

To flee for his life was his only concern

but he was the old one, and soon did he learn

that his strength and his speed would not compare

to the numbers that hungered he’d brought from his lair

Soon he was fallen, his last breath a gasp

as his life flowed from him he heard the man laugh

Listen my children and you shall hear

the screams at night, the sound of fear…

Let me know how you make out this deer season, Rich... you've got me a tad concerned. (DannyM.)

The Spark (by RichardB.)

A candle, a kiss, a cold caress

I slipped into unconsciousness

On my back with open eyes

death rained softly from empty skies

A moment past, my life was there

A woman took it, a lass so fair

Her eyes, her smile, her subtle charm

a hand to kiss, with death's cold arm

A glass of wine was my demise

The perfect nectar for death's disguise

A second chance, I’d sell my soul

this aged fool would foil her goal

My hand, a spark, my broken glass

her jaded innocence would pass

with blood drawn from a crystal stem

her heart stopped cold as mine again

a tiny cry, her gentle face

would follow me to hell's black gates.

Geez, Rich... I guess Internet dating is rather treacherous these days... be careful out there, everyone! (DannyM.)

The Druid and the Scarlet Dove (by RichardB.)

Shadows dance and children play

With blackened hearts they come to pray

They chant around the firelight

to perform the sacrificial rite

An old man reads from ancient runes

Then children kneel on naked dunes

The smell of brimstone in salted air

The taste of blood they’ve come to share

A girl moves forward with starry eyes

As though she picked them from the skies

Her tawny skin and hair of gold

All is silent, all behold

The beauty of her nakedness

as the old man takes her by the wrist

He lifts her hand up high to heaven

and cuts the palm, not once but seven

then speaks in tongue long since forgotten

and through the coven spreads stench so rotten

but the girl undaunted holds out her hand

and lets the blood flow on the land

then she walks out in the sea

and lets it wash around her knees

the water drinking in the red

now fire and wind must still be fed

extended limb above the pyre

her life flows slowly to the fire

the leaping flames lap up the fluid

as the old man stands the final druid

He holds her hand out to the wind

as blood flows skyward the change begins

the billowing robes that keep his body

soon fall about him, crumpled, …shoddy

and leathered skin, and cracked hard face

grow soft and smooth without a trace

of haggardness or ancient past

and now the final step at last

for now, his size must be diminished

and this man sized boy will then be finished

the girl lays sprawled about his feet

he picks her up like so much meat

and throws her body to the fire

the smoke and flames grow ever higher

until a cloud forms up above

and from it flies a scarlet dove

its coo is that of Satan’s laughter

but the too-large boy gets what he’s after

the dove alights upon his finger

all is still, but the cloud does linger

then from it comes the sound of thunder

and the earth doth shake from deep down under

the dove and man are struck by lightning

for the children this flash of blue is frightening

and when they uncover bedazzled eyes

the too-large boy is now their size

and the scarlet dove is not there

but the girl of blonde and beauty fair

hand in hand they take their places

with bright blue eyes and shining faces

among the children that came to play

‘til star filled night becomes the day

All's well that ends well. Thanks, Rich!