The Thief crept softly along the wall, stealing up the staircase. He scaled the steps expertly, without a single oak board creaking beneath him. He paused near the top to smile wickedly to himself. He was drawing near his prize. A blindfold was in one hand, a long dagger in the other.
He is the puff of wind that steals the flame from the row of candles; likewise, he sniffs out the breath of life. He is the chills that run up and down your spine when you think if somethig horrifying. He is horror itself. He is the eyes fixed upon you when you are alone but sense someone watching you-- you turn to face him, but no one is there.
He is shadowy. He is lurid. He is cunning. He smells of the morbid stench of rot. He is the most famous thief ever to roam the earth.
He is Death.
Is this an excerpt or just a musing??? Rather poetic... though slightly morbid... ;)
ReplyDeleteJust a musing. :) Morbid was what I was going for! My adventure with my cousins deep in the mountains of WV this weekend inspired me to write something creepy. I wrote this by firelight while two of my cousins (who had crept into the same bed as me with pitiable whines of "but it's COLD, Rebecca!") slept on either side of me. I was at loss for something to post yesterday, so I typed it up on the computer and hit post!
ReplyDelete-- RJ <3
Mmmm, I liked this!
ReplyDeleteIn answer to your question, I don't think it's too morbid. :) I had pleasant chills, not bad ones will reading.
Thanks for leaving a comment on my blog! :)
Ok, phew! I'm glad you didn't think it was too creepy. :)
Delete-- RJ <3
I didn't know what you were going at until the last line, which I loved. Great job writing this, you're very talented. Thank you for stopping by my blog!
ReplyDeletehellostrawberrie.blogspot.com
Thank you! And I LOVE reading your blog! :)
Delete-- Rebecca <3