Tentacles

An eldritch moon shines dimlyIlluminatingTentacles, cagéd, writhing.A figure appears, black-garbed,Whispering soft prayersWrapped in the pow’r of the gods.Suddenly, he calls aloud;Light beams from aboveCasting out the clinging dark.Screams can be heard all around,Appendages whip,Shrinking in upon themselves.Another yell, and blue fireFlickers all aroundPurifying tainted ground.Then the darkness falls againRevealing clear earthThe tentacled scourge is gone.Written …

A horrible little something.

I responded to a question on Instagram today: what scares me? I answered ‘Death – both the process and what comes afterwards.’ This got me thinking about what, exactly, scares me about it and I’ve come to the conclusion it’s being taken and killed by a psychocannibal (I only saw fifteen minutes of The Silence …