Scary Poems Short の小説・ストーリー

A silent symphony of chaos. Low growls ripple through the air, deep and guttural, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The haunting howl of wolves echoes through the streets. The spine-chilling screeches of vampires slicing through the silence. And the almost imperceptible hum of witches, their presence felt but never seen. The city is alive with the creatures of dark, a living, breathing entity, and we’re racing right through the heart of it all.

The sounds; a cacophony of ripping flesh, crunching bones, and guttural growls, echo through the stillness of the wilderness like a macabre symphony of nature’s brutality. “Ahhhhhh!” the short one screams, turns around and runs away. He trips, and falls, but scrambles back up and continues to run. In his fear, he doesn’t even realize that rather than running in the direction we came from, he’s heading deeper into the woods. Of the two remaining men, one falls to the ground and a pungent smell starts to emit from him. He had pissed himself. The next second, we hear a piercing scream of terror coming from the direction of the short man and then nothing. Silence.

Scar cries so hard that her voice becomes hoarse, only to freeze in shock when she watched a food land brutally on Sebastian’s hand holding the bat. “Stop It!” Scar bursts into a frantic shout, “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you!” The driver laughs at her: “Kill us? Is death the worst threat you can throw, little girl? Is that what you fear the most? There are much more you should be afraid of.” Scar shakes her head, sliding down against the door as desperation grabs her. Her whole world filled with the sound of punches, kicks, and the suppressed groan of the man who is keeping up a safe little fortress for her.

The poisonous scorpion was almost two meters long with a tail that was half a meter long, shining blue. However, a few centipedes followed behind the poisonous scorpion. It was obvious that all these poisonous bugs were attracted by the Stray Scent on Darryl’s body. Gulp! Darryl’s throat trembled, and he had goosebumps all over. He wanted to escape, but his hands and legs were tied up. There was no way for him to run to. ‘Sh*t, I’m not afraid of poison, but with these poisonous bugs charging up, I would be gobbled up completely. There would not be a single piece of bone left behind!’ Darryl thought.

My mind felt slow, clogged with fear. I'm as small as an ant, as big as a whale. I'll approach like a breeze, but can come like a gale. By some I get hit, but all have shown fear. I'll dance to the music, though I can't hear. Of names I have many, of names I have one. I'm as slow as a snail, but from me you can't run. The words swirled in my head, a confusing poem in the flickering candlelight. Something that could be big or small… something that comes gently or with force… something people fear and can’t escape.

In dedication to Born By Power is a series of poem fixed within chapters of the book. The first was relating to Chaos And Apocalypse, which pretty much revealed a lot about the uprise of hell. This is the second and is themed on the horrific nature of Halloween and written with relativeness to hell. What does this hold to unviel? Who knows. Screams of Halloween Halloween, Halloween, Soft screams of blood chime, The period of dark, The day of ghouls, demons and imps,

“…the lady in the shadows…the one who watches you and wants you dead…” As the little girl's words from her vision swept over her,Beth felt a sense of terrifying unease. It was a coincidence,she told herself,nothing more.It was impossible that the little girl and Marcus could be speaking of the same thing,it was just impossible! “The lady in the shadows?”she said,her hands trembling in fear. In her mind she saw herself lying cold and frozen in that casket.

Trembling, she clutches onto her blanket, feeling paralyzed with fear and uncertainty. Sunny shouts, Please leave me alone! " But the spirits pay no heed to her pleas; their whispers only intensify. Desperate, Sunny frantically searches for a way to escape the haunting presence, her heart pounding in her chest. Sunny gets off the couch and runs to the corner of the room, looking around while hearing eerie whispering. She's scared to move, fearing that any sudden change might provoke the spirits further.

Laura - 1963 Darkness. Fear. My heart thuds, almost breaking free from my ribcage. I gasp for air, but there isn't enough for my thirsty lungs. Fear can be a dreadful thing, killing you before your time comes. Reaching out in the dark, I touch a wall in front of me. Same on my left and right. A hard floor beneath my back as I am lying flat. Where am I?

It snakes around me, coils into my lungs, burrows deep into my bones. Sweat. Blood. Fear. My stomach curdles, my nails bite into my palms. The scent is wrong—familiar yet unnatural, layered with decay, as if something dead had walked too long in living skin. My breath comes sharp and shallow. I should go back inside. I should lock the door. Then the scent changes. It thickens, weaves through my mind, twists and digs like thorns. The world tilts. Shadows pulse at the edges of my vision. My throat tightens around a scream that won’t come. The scent—