Halloween Poem: 'The House Upon the Hill'
Title: The House Upon the Hill
Rating: PG, gen
Author's Notes: Written for the spnland 'Epitaph' challenge. This fits with Supernatural canon about ghosts, but it's really a piece of original fiction. I would have recorded it for you, since it's very much a spoken word piece, but my mike seems to have died. Le sigh.
Length: 221 words
In a house
upon a hill
lived a girl.
She’s there still.
Even though
40 years
she’s been dead.
Once a man
brought her here.
Promised
to love her dear.
But instead
he left her
in pieces.
Silken hair
weaves through drywall.
Crimson nails
stud the hall.
Yellowed bones
fill the gaps
beneath the creaky floor.
So she don’t think
much of men.
Those that come
into her den,
when they lay
them
down to sleep…
She just takes
her pound of flesh.
Meat from the bone
nice and fresh.
And then
for fun
she wakes them up.
Ohhhhhh
The screams
are lovely
at midnight.
And the men?
They never
come back.
Until tonight
when up the hill
came a man with
a ghost to kill.
A man
with nothing
to lose.
He moved quiet
not to disturb
as he placed
his bags of herbs.
She just watched
until she felt
the trap’s teeth bite.
Cold iron
meets hot rage.
Rock salt
makes a cage.
She will not
be murdered
again.
Monsters took
all that he had.
Could be he’s gone
a little mad.
He can’t stop, won’t -
a gas leak
meets a spark.
With a roar
flames of blue and red
devour the living
and the dead.
They meet their end
with matching snarls.
And Hell welcomes them both.
Rating: PG, gen
Author's Notes: Written for the spnland 'Epitaph' challenge. This fits with Supernatural canon about ghosts, but it's really a piece of original fiction. I would have recorded it for you, since it's very much a spoken word piece, but my mike seems to have died. Le sigh.
Length: 221 words
In a house
upon a hill
lived a girl.
She’s there still.
Even though
40 years
she’s been dead.
Once a man
brought her here.
Promised
to love her dear.
But instead
he left her
in pieces.
Silken hair
weaves through drywall.
Crimson nails
stud the hall.
Yellowed bones
fill the gaps
beneath the creaky floor.
So she don’t think
much of men.
Those that come
into her den,
when they lay
them
down to sleep…
She just takes
her pound of flesh.
Meat from the bone
nice and fresh.
And then
for fun
she wakes them up.
Ohhhhhh
The screams
are lovely
at midnight.
And the men?
They never
come back.
Until tonight
when up the hill
came a man with
a ghost to kill.
A man
with nothing
to lose.
He moved quiet
not to disturb
as he placed
his bags of herbs.
She just watched
until she felt
the trap’s teeth bite.
Cold iron
meets hot rage.
Rock salt
makes a cage.
She will not
be murdered
again.
Monsters took
all that he had.
Could be he’s gone
a little mad.
He can’t stop, won’t -
a gas leak
meets a spark.
With a roar
flames of blue and red
devour the living
and the dead.
They meet their end
with matching snarls.
And Hell welcomes them both.