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From The Mist(Horror Story Workshop)

From The Mist

Ancient forests grew thick and tall
upon this forest a strange mist would fall
enshrouding all in a shimmering light
casting an eerie glow ,throughout the night

A creature emerges from the mist
with eyes ablaze as he spat and hissed
talons on the end of each sinewy hand
here the beast took it’s final stand

The rotten stench,of burning flesh
is interwoven in the mesh
of this ageless ones being
known by all,yet never seen

A scourge upon the earth and man
a plague to all,since time began
a flash of lightening and roll of thunger
a prelude to the siege they would be under

Memories of not so long ago,the villagers had
of a bright summer day, turned dark and sad
pieces of bodies covered the ground
half eaten corpses,hung upside down

Screams of agony were heard far and wide
so few were left to fight side by side
then as quickly as it began
the beast had vanished from the land

Now he makes his nightmarish return
to torture ,maim,kill and burn
fight fire with fire the people say
a daunt-full task,for they had not the way

Death and destruction hung heavy on the air
a brave soul,held fast the creatures stare
and saying “I know from whence you came"
I’ll fight you now ,although fight I disdain

The creature stepped forward further from the mist
he gnashed and spat yet still he missed
the lad held fast and hit the beast head on
green slime replaced the eye now gone

the monster laid a gash in young lads side
the pain and the blood he could not hide
the battle went on long into the night
villagers stood and stared in fright

howls were mixed with grunts and moans
blood and gutts everywhere were thrown
the voice all heard had steadily grown

the onlookers were dazed as if in a haze
even the creature looked amazed
for what they heard was so absurd
a voice with clearly spoken word

crying out above the snap and the clap
cut and print ,that is a wrap

Last few words: 
told you I can't do horror
Editing stage: 

Comments

You fleshed out the original tale quite nicely with lots more detail and pizzazz! I especially like the rather twisty, surprise ending which ties up the whole thing in a neat package! Good job!

thank you . I really struggled with this one it is out of my realm of writing and comfort zone

Chrys
Let your mercy spill on all these burning hearts in hell(Leonard Cohen)

author comment

A film set of reality to make you feel scared, great write, I remember in Africa there are stories of creatures that dwell in forests and bogs, but this one please keep it your side of the pond.
Love to you both out there, Yours Ian..

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Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

thank you lol awww I was going to send it to you as a gift

Chrys
Let your mercy spill on all these burning hearts in hell(Leonard Cohen)

author comment

the story and it held me right to the end. My only complaint here is that your rhythm is off throughout a lot of it. You certainly can write horror. It just needs some work in the flow. ~ Gee

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You really got me at the end lol. What's that called?/............oh yeah :comic relief. Well written and well thought out...........stan

You really got me at the end lol. What's that called?/............oh yeah :comic relief. Well written and well thought out...........stan

It's called the worst poem I ever wrote sorry for the delay trying to get my business up and running plus get ready for the wedding

Chrys
Let your mercy spill on all these burning hearts in hell(Leonard Cohen)

author comment

As usual I'm out of the loop

Trust me... your ending is horrifying.
Well done trusted partner. Well done.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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hmmm have been busy trying to get my business up and running as I told Stan this has the be the worst poem I ever wrote

Chrys
Let your mercy spill on all these burning hearts in hell(Leonard Cohen)

author comment

We've all written worse and this isn't as bad as you seem to think.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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The NeoPoet Mentor Program
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'roll of thunger' Chrys - lol
A few other typos as well...
Meter is a bit rough, but I love the write. I especially love the twist at the end - funny....

Love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

much better! It has that nice twist at the end and I know how much this has been a trial for you. Nice job, and it really ain't that bad! Wedding? Business? Wow! You really do have a lot on your plate, thanks for taking the time to share this work with us. ~ Gee

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Critique or comment today!

welcome

Chrys
Let your mercy spill on all these burning hearts in hell(Leonard Cohen)

author comment

I agree the rhythm is rough. It can be fixed easily though some might think that rough rhythm might serve such a subject.

Thunger ( thunder ?)

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I thought "thunger" was deliberate. It is a monster of a nonce word. I have experienced hunger that virtually thundered inside.
If it was a typo, you should save the word at the least. I know I will. As far as I'm concerned it is now part of the English language.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
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