Competition Ends 26th October 2018 11:42pm
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Campfire Stories Halloween Competition!  

poet
Zazzles
Broom
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 23rd Nov 2013
Forum Posts: 1135

Poetry Contest

Please write a detailed campfire story involving Halloween 😈


Welcome All Poets / Poetess to my 4th Annual Halloween competition!🎃😈 👻

Prizes will be awarded to three winners
I like to give out my own custom 1st 2nd and 3rd place ribbons for the winners with your names on it that can be posted Into their profile by simply pasting the links I’ll provide after the comp 👍

This year the theme is Campfire 🔥Halloween based Stories.

Any mood is fine.
Sad, happy, suspenseful, scary, dark.
Erotica, even love if u can make that work..

Poets/ Poetess who push their boundaries and write a story rather than a poem get extra credit towards winning first place.
( if I enjoy the story, that is 🎃)

For writers who do not write stories
I will allow 2 poems as one entry by posting the first poem and linking the second, thanks .


Any style
Prose preferred but not mandatory..
Minimum word count 16 lines
No limit on word max.
This holds true for story entries as well.

I encourage all writers to incorporate Dup members into their story. it makes for a fun  and adventurous read,  and can be really rewarding to write. If it makes you feel better, you can write to the poets you intend to use in your story to make sure that there is no controversy / drama for using a Dup member, like the last incident.  

MANDATORY once u post the first page of your story,  link the following pages of the story. it makes for an easier read, as the story is all in one place 👍If u need help posting links inbox me I’ll tell you how 😊

1 month good luck!

Happy Halloween Everyone 👻🎃🍁

UPDATED:  I will not be adding any more of my Halloween story here as I feel it takes away from the writers 😊 however, if you wanna read the rest my Halloween story I’ll be  posting it daily on my personal pages as I write it.

poet
Grace
Idryad
Guardian of Shadows
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Joined 25th Aug 2011
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The Haunting of Gilgamon

A tale of long ago
told by bards with wares
to sell
of a village far away
where they tarried
for a while
a village named Gilgamon

Unhallowed night it was
When mortal huddled
in uneasy slumber
listening to the wails
of the wind
as incantations to ancient gods
by witches to raise
their dead prince

Granted with a token
to leave the portal
of the underworld
unguarded for a sigh
through the cracks
through the door
with the prince
others follow

Thus leave this soul
a lover of a pining princess
whom in life was betrothed to him
Others who joined his quest
There merged into the sky
To seek their earthly coils
That alas had rotted to the soil
they crawled on the mossy green
Of the village of Gilgamon

Upon the green and fields
They were seeking warmth
In mortal coils
And around the village of Gilgamon
Lyssa visited and lay waste
On each inhabitants with two souls
that mortal husks could not contain
thus each one slowly sank
and spew out both souls

Nature claimed Gilgamon
Homes and hearth stand
Visited by howling wind
Strewn with dead flowers
Monuments of emptiness
In a flowery glade in the woods
Yet should you chance
To rest within
Sighs of sorrow
Be your lullaby.
Written by Grace (Idryad)
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poet
Zazzles
Broom
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 23rd Nov 2013
Forum Posts: 1135

Excellent Grace, I see you put a poem up first because I KNOW your a story teller and you’re going to follow through with a kick ass story
excellent poem👻 thank you for your entry and kicking things off Grace !

Btw I will be posting my  example campfire story
between tonight but most like tomorrow
I’ve decided to write one page every day during the competition . Kinda keep things  interest and while this poetry contest really gets going

I will show everyone how to post the first page of their story and  then link the rest of the pages thereafter continuously .


I suspect there are more poets thank story tellers/ writers. But perhaps we can inspire others to try it
🎃

poet
AEMelia564
Y
Tyrant of Words
Norway
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Joined 20th Apr 2016
Forum Posts: 1957

Camp fire story

In old times through old tongues there was a firm belief in the passing of spirits from one world to another. And these needed to be guided to make it across.  
Their last few fears would be a mist around the hills  
A storm calling, a flock of spiders weaving the web of the forefathers.  

The sea and sky could hold the knowledge of the purpose of these spirits.  
The tides would know where they had gone or where they were going to.  
Noadi and bone master knew so did the old crones. Noadi's were known as shamans also, as Bone masters were often female healers.
 
The only wands they used were the crooked branches of the willow tree  
Which was known for its healing powers. And messages were often sung.  
In trance like journey a swarm of birds would arrive on the time of the full moon. And it was said the moon wore a wolf mask.  
 
In the skin of a bear, the spirit was seen fleeting the forests. Shaking the trees.  
Noadi sang to gather strength , as the bone master encrypted the names of the spirits. He'd spit out a tooth and stare into the dark. He'd speak about the Fire.  
The fire as a road to the afterlife.  
 
One day they found a young woman on the tiny beach of the island.  
She could not have been older than a child. And bore on her face, the tribal runic symbols of the land across the seas.  
Noadi played his drum humming a monotone tune, Bone master sat by the woman, placing her hands above the womans body, she gathered the knowledge of the history , of the lost life of the young woman in front of her.  
 
Suddenly the silence broke  
As bone master spoke in a broken child's voice  
 
" I have seen the cradle of my life and death, I have seen secrets in this sand.  
My name be told as hallow queen  
I was born to tell the story of the land, Nemesis, Nemesis, Nemesis"  
 
Noadi stopped singing.   " This body is too small" he said " we will wait for the spirit to speak again, prepare for the knowledge to come"
 
 
(End of part one)
Written by AEMelia564 (Y)
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poet
Zazzles
Broom
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 23rd Nov 2013
Forum Posts: 1135

All Things Magical A Deepunderground Halloween Pg1

At the end of the path both Zazzles and Maxi, reach for the front door, and knock.Happy to be visiting her dear friend “Crow” She was half expecting him to appear out of thin air as he would so often do. So, Zazzles was prepared this time. She was holding a gift behind her back wrapped in pretty wrapping paper. It even has a bright colored bow on it. Nobody answered the door. Zazz, knocked a few more times before giving up. A little frustrated now, Zazzles, careful not to flick her new and improved wand, pointed it towards the direction of Maxi and told him to run around back and fetch the spare key under the mud mat. Maxi returned and was accompanied by a farm hand & apprentice named JusTim, and without the key and carrying on a conversation in a low growl that only His mistress could hear, then walked past Tim with a dirty look and sat down by his Mistresses feet. Where is Crowfly, Zazz asked Tim? “Dunno, Crowfly hasn’t been around sine apple picking season started two days ago, Mistress Zazzles, said Tim. “Don’t call me Mistress, she told him, Just call me Zazz, and smiled”        
             
To be continued ...
Written by Zazzles (Broom)
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https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/321481-all-things-magical-a-deepunderground/



The Link above is the Prologue or for some writers who don’t write prologues,  a first page
so the readers will want to read this page first.

I posted a second page to my story early to demonstrate how I would like all future pages of stories from each writer added,  as explained in the comp outlines..  Each time a writer adds a new link  the previous page will turn into a hyperlink . So it’s always current which is a plus
Hope this helps

poet
Zazzles
Broom
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 23rd Nov 2013
Forum Posts: 1135

AMElia!

Jumps up and down!!! Excellent first page  to what seems to be a fine story  AMElia
Thanks for entering!

poet
AEMelia564
Y
Tyrant of Words
Norway
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Joined 20th Apr 2016
Forum Posts: 1957

Thank you dear Zazzles for the inspiration, I didnt read the part of including du members until after I posted the chapter Buit will be included!!!! Got a zillion ideas, great competition my lady Z....happy you have enjoyed , greets, Melia

poet
Zazzles
Broom
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 23rd Nov 2013
Forum Posts: 1135

👍

poet
Ralph_Tamez
Wasere
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 20th Sep 2018
Forum Posts: 85

Coco Island

This story goes back  
To before we had cracks
So those with no buts
Don't give it a fuss..
Just sit back ...hold tight
And be, in this story ?
You..just.. might.....
 
It all started one day.  
I think it was May ....or maybe it was..
Shit.. um...Bahh.. on with it then...
On a long forgotten coast  
Was a village we called, Shree Rhost
It was cherished the most by some .damn..
Green and Grey haired Ghost.
 
 
When the October breeze was just right..  
To take blankets at night .. we would gather the shrubs, to cut down on the bugs, and all gather round..  
The thing we called ..  Uggreat Light!!
Wed set up on the beach, right off UggUllgg street..  
 
Twas always the best time in town..
If it should ..be ..a town..... ..
All the villagers would come round  
And bring treats they had found..  
Some made ground up worms eyes .. they would surely be prized. As they could only be found , deep in the jungles of GwoaWound.  
 
As the people came in  
They would pick up a bin, to put their treets in ..for they knew that the ghost would probably get most.. so they'd pack it with hay.. hay they carried all day got quite smelly least i say..inside pockets ,inside coats, even under those two things we like  most..err..umm.. getting back to the story..
 
Yes.. yes... back to the story...
 
As the Sun settled east ..
We would break out the feast..
I'd bring jelly and toast..my dear Cyndi helped the most.
There was "TIG the insane"he would bring the cocaine  
Followed by "Eli the Pain" he'd bring leather spoons made by  goons.
"Cool Jade" led.. her parade of around 20 that day, bringing rice mixed with Ghost. They had slain on the way .  
"Casketfly Coo" brought his crew. Carrying the goo the girls would drink mixed with skink from his sink..
"Silly Sibil the Gay" would chase down ..all who strayed and,slap any who... dared say nay ..to his yay.. he brought marsh mellons .. that day.
 
As that sun settled down  
On that brisk cool night . Was a god awful sight . A New ghost had slipped in . Wearing nothing that night! All the women ran in freight clenching pipe bags tight. Only one stayed to fight and help us that night ,Cool Jade! As us men stood to fight, we were caught by the site, of Belching goo purple and blue . It was burning us too..least we knew that  damn night ..there would be more ghosts in sight.. was a one sided plight .. as we retreated thru night .. to the last ray of hope .. we all ran for the boat.. and set sail that night.. twas a three hour tour.. to the isle of  GaHure..we  took a wrong turn instead . And ran aground bumping heads .. as our ship began to sink .. there was an island to the right that was barely in sight. So we swam for its shore.
 
Upon reaching the Isle, was a sign in mud , these words written in blood . All Who Come here today better be ready to pray!! The Coco God is on his way!!! Just then Casket Fly Coo swam ashore and was hoping for whores.. still had his goo in his hand... as I was backing away I bumped into Sibil the Gay.. things were not going my way..  
 
 
Later  that day, as we were drying up our garbs.  Cool Jade still with her parade started singing an Old Shree Rhost song . Sure helped us all... just get along... just as they were finishing the Old song . A mast appeared on the horizon.. was it help?Was it the Coco god? .. no...it was that damn naked ghost, with his ghouls and our Roast we'd left on the coast..  he was shouting at  Jade
Cool Jade!! You fool!! You've Slain My dear Uncle Hallo!! I demand you swim here and get on to my  gallo!! Now all you stand back and let her go!!! Of course there was one of us that just had to say.. No!! Cyndi sneered .We will not let her go .. if you want your uncle back we already ate him! You can have him back once he's passed thru our cracks!! But you have no cracks !!..  the Ghost snapped back. Then I guess you CANT have him! My Dear Cyndi yelled back..
 
Their ship neared the shore we readied for the attack. They started belching purple and blue burning goo all over the place. They were shooting for Cool Jades FACE!!! After all ..she had ..started this all.. Just then I recalled.   Hey we still had worms eye left .. and nothing puts out a flame better than what comes out of a worms eye!! I ran to my Ween!! Thats what we called the bins .. that the women would try to stuff.. wait.. back to the story once again.. I grabbed my ween it was still packed . Pointing it at the ground the worms eye poured out .. I threw some at Cyndi . Whew ..her flame immediately died out..The others saw her satisfaction.  All the men immediately pulled out their weens and saved the women with a few good streams.. we then killed off the ghosts ..and the rest was toast..
 
We forever then called that night ..Hallo-Ween..
.  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Written by Ralph_Tamez (Wasere)
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poet
AEMelia564
Y
Tyrant of Words
Norway
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Joined 20th Apr 2016
Forum Posts: 1957

Camp fire story (2)

"The Bone Master will stay here" Noadi said as he drew a circle in the air.    
With his wand up in the air he spoke " I draw this circle to protect this travelling spirit" repeating it as he walked clock wise around the body of the young woman.  
   
Some of the women from the village had come down to see what was happening. The Village Earl Lord Lep, ak Craig in a box, walked down the sandy dunes. The smoke from his nostrils litt up in the dark as it was turning into twillight. " There there, old chap," he said patting Noadi on the arm.    
Noadi took a step backwards not understanding the ways of folk.    
" Hat tip Fellow, your work is praised , may I assume this washed ashore woman is a sibbling of the Clan Todski?" Noadi began to laugh. His laughter was so sudden it seemed to ripple the tides. " Todski and his clan have not visited our regions in four moons now" Noadi shook of the trance he had been in.    
" Indee Aye " Said the Earl in his strange accent. " It is said that he rescued a lithuanian Princess named Duende whose lilly white skin and raven hair belighted him so much that he fell into a Love spell. He could only speak one word which was Her name" Noadi just stood and listened knowing the charisma of the Earl was not easy to ignore.    
The Earl noticed the red circle in the sand , he looked at the flask of liquid.    
" By the grains of the sand" He said annoyed " This isnt the royal wine from Elisian vinyards is it?!!!"....He almost stepped on the magical circle.    
   
A female from the small group of people gathered ran forwards. Her copper curls escaped from the Hood of her cloth. She was the High Druidessa Miss    
Missy they called her. Missy knew each spell, her brews cured all aches and her rune songs were known for the natural power of poetry.    
Missy restored the circle without having to take actions. Her mind was so strong .    
She summoned her helpers. Daring Daffodil was an Anglo Saxon Lady with a soft voice. She had learned chants of Vedic Astrology and was known to speak in tongues. And when she spoke she was wisdom.    
From The Ash, An ovate from the west. She played the harp and wore a magical heart necklace , Her long white hair shone in the dark. Slhe was Queen of Hearts.    
PoetOfTragedy , the great witch doctor of the far African coast.was also present.He knew the secrets of the spirit of things. He knew the voices of the rock, the cliff, the deserts. He could send rain or wind and detect truths. His art of speaking was known and he came from a tradition of Weavers. The weavers were a skilled people who could use dream magic and the thoughts and journey of each person was woven into their death cloth.    
   
Missy and Bone Master were salving the body of the young girl whilst PoetOf Tragedy folded out the Deathcloth. A bed made of clay and leaves was used to carry the body. PoetOfTragedy covered the body with the Deathcloth    
He began to hum, it sounded like wind blowing over the sandy dunes.    
Blowing over the sea into the sky and across the hemispheres.    
   
Daring Daffodil hummed allong as did Missy, From the Ash played her Heart Harp. Noadi played his snare drum. Bone Master held out her arms above the body. Whilst She said " From marrow, to bone, to splinter, to Ash. From Ash, to soot, to spirit, blessed be "    
   
All repeated the sentences while the Earl stood nailed to the ground and watched in amazement. PoetOfTragedy draped the Deathcloth over the body    
Tucked it around tightly. The prosesion leading up to the dune path to the edge    
Where the sandy roads began. A small carriage was waiting. There was noone in there. The horses leading the carriage were the Horses Of Naught.    
They knew where to take the body. As they had encrypted messages whispered into their ears by the most powerful magicians of the regions.    
The body was placed into the carriage as the horses set off into the darkness.    
   
Missy gathered all around her and they followed her on the path sliding upwards around the hills. A figure of a woman appeared walking downhill.    
She was a slender dark haired lady with a faery like bone structure.    
It was the Earls wife Grace Ydriad. " Dear Craig" she said with visable delight.    
" Where in the heavens have you been i was looking for you everywhere"    
He smiled and put his arm around her, "that mi dearest is a  very long story, I will glady tell you this by the fireplace " they walked the path uphill    
Only the evening acompanied them .
Written by AEMelia564 (Y)
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poet
Zazzles
Broom
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 23rd Nov 2013
Forum Posts: 1135

I will be reading theses stories again over the weekend and commenting then 😊thanks for your entries everyone 👍

poet
Grace
Idryad
Guardian of Shadows
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Joined 25th Aug 2011
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The Ghosts of Herak- Part 1

I had often heard my grandmother speak about ghosts and spirits that howled in the night, not just any other night but during Lemularia, where ghosts of the ancients came back to their old homes and want to return to the land of the living.
 
My sister Pandora and I loved to listen to the old tales but giggled about it after that. We found it absolutely funny to think of our old grandfather toddling back to life.
We lived with our  grandmother as our father a Roman Centurian had died gloriously in battle far away. He was the first batch of officers after the Marian reforms initiated by Gaius Marius. He had headed a batch of 100 land soldiers, but was beaten back by the barbarians at the border. We heard he died valiantly and gloriously. Not that it was any consolation to our mother, Aelia.
 
She was a beautiful woman, who loved the Greek’s finer arts and way of life. That was why she named my younger sister Pandora, as she was fair and beautiful. I was stuck with the common name of Grace, as I was dark and sturdy. My mother thought I looked more like my father, while Pandora favoured her.
 
Anyway, my mother was heavy with child when she heard about my father’s death. She was not able to take this, and slowly sickened. She died during childbirth, calling my father’s name, as she breathed her last. Our tears were not enough to make her stay.
 
Our brother, whom we called Gaius, died soon after. So Pandora and I were packed off to live with our grandmother, also widowed by a war. We grew up with her, in a cottage, tending sheep and the wheat, barley, grapes and olives with our many uncles, aunts and cousins who lived around the farm.
 
Pandora and I were not supervised much by our grandmother, so we had freedom to run around the farm, helping or making a nuisance of ourselves.  
 
This was our life until one fine day, the Tiber overflowed and the farm was submerged. We escaped into higher ground and my family travelled far away into a piece of land away from the roads that crisscrossed Rome. It was a land where gigantic trees grew and lush grass carpeted the ground. It was strange to be away from the amenities of Rome and the older folks looked fearful.
 
Nevertheless, we started to ready the land for cultivation, as we were farmers and that was all we knew. It was a tough time for Pandora and I for we were used to the relatively relaxed lifestyle of the old rambling farm.  
 
One day, this world we created for ourselves, was turned upside down when spring turned to summer. We had forgotten Lemularia, and it came to us with a vengeance.  
 
That day, the night fell hard and heavy, the mists hung low, and the trees canopy seemed to knit together to hide the skies. Romulus’ had forgotten to appease Remus, and his minions came gleefully from beyond the portals to conquer the only place where the black beans were not strewn, for it was the custom to walk barefooted, and strew the beans over the shoulder chanting ‘Haec ego mitto; his redimo meque meosque fabis’ –   ‘These words I spake, I send these beans to redeem me and mine’.
 
My grandmother was ailing in bed, nigh to death as Pandora and I stared outside at the eerie light, neither night nor day. We shivered with fear and the cold that seemed to pervade the atmosphere.
 
To be continued…
 
Written by Grace (Idryad)
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poet
Grace
Idryad
Guardian of Shadows
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Joined 25th Aug 2011
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The Ghosts of Herak- Part 2

There were booming and whooshing sounds from afar. It was as if the skies had opened up to all elements of the earth. There were cackling, keening, thousands of whispering voices and moans and groans. The cacophony of sounds seemed to seep into our beings, weakening our spirit, making us all helpless and terrified.

The people crowded into our main building, a circular enclosure, roofed and walled against the elements. It had withstand a cold winter, rain and sleet, and we hoped that it could withstand whatever was coming from the otherworld.

We were helpless. We did not know what to do. My grandmother whispered that we should have strewn the black beans around our house, circled it nine times and implored the other worldly beings to leave us alone. We forgot, we didn’t even have the beans. We were so focused on our wheat and barley, our celery, parsnips, artichokes, beets and onions. We didn’t have beans.

Our common building shook as the otherworldly beings landed on the ground. As they stood on terra firma, they seemed to gather the energy around them and strengthen their forms. They looked almost tangible. We looked on in horror at their half formed faces, their elongated green limbs and their gaits. They didn’t look human and yet we knew that they were the evil souls of the ancient, come to reclaim their life.

The seal that Romulus stamped on the door of Remus portal was broken; the dead brother came back for vengeance with his minions.

Pandora and I were at our grandmother’s bedside, holding her hands to comfort her and ourselves. We didn’t know what to do and in fact, we were just waiting to die or be possessed by the evil spirits around us.

“What shall we do grandma, what shall we do?” I whimpered, scared out of my wits. I felt Pandora shiver besides me, and I felt her fear.

“Call Orcus…get Orcus, you must consult him…,” the old lady whispered.
Pandora and I looked at one another. We didn’t know who Orcus was and had never heard of him.

“Ask…ask…” she whispered.

We went out of her room to the main hall, where the farmers and their families huddled together at the fireplace. I looked around and met the eyes of one of the elders who motioned to us to come nearer.

“How is your grandmother?” the elder, Julius asked.

“She is fading fast. She asked us to look for Orcus…but we don’t know who he is.”

Julius went pale and looked at his hands, answering, “That’s an impossible task. He lives beyond this forest towards the North. It is but a day journey, but dangerous under the circumstances …he is the high priest dedicated to Romulus, he can help but getting to him is impossible.”

“We will go,” I blurted out, and immediately regretted it. Who could withstand the evil that was lurking around us? The gold box outside the building containing sulphur to repel evil would soon be not strong enough to ward off the howling spirits, as they congregated on the field before our hall.

But we had to do something, even though we were farmers, Pandora and I were still daughters of a proud Roman soldier, a centurion no less and we didn’t want to die as cowards cowering behind sacks of wheat.

“I will go with you,” someone said, very calmly.

One of our cousins stood tall and determined, Ameria. Her long hair of burnished gold piled on her head defied her station in life as a farmer’s daughter. Pandora and I stared at her and somehow, we felt like we could do it. We were greatly encouraged.

To be continued….
Written by Grace (Idryad)
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poet
AEMelia564
Y
Tyrant of Words
Norway
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Joined 20th Apr 2016
Forum Posts: 1957

Camp fire story (3)

The sizzling logs in the fireplace hissed on the background. The Earl Lep and his wife Grace were seated on a mauve velvet couch. They drank freshly brewed mede from small cups. Their daughters Jade and Luna were chattering in the library. They heard them talk through the walls that divided the lounge and library. Jade , a tall handsome brunette with the pale skin of her father, was reading a story to her sister from an old persian tale book. They both wore a dark red dress , each a slightly different colour.  Dayum, the siberian tiger pup that Jade had adopted from a traveling circus lay at their feet. Once in a while his paws latched at tiny insects or the girls's slippers.  

While the earl poured himself another cup of mede, Grace was in deep thought.  
Her beautiful face frowning. The earl placed his hand on hers in a gesture of comfort. "Mi dearest, " he said calmly " you have been utterly utterly quiet,  
" Lep, deary, " Grace replied looking at him. "Your story of the washed ashore  young woman has gotten a hold of me. My Ydriad tribal blood is boiling. I am reminded of the forests. I hear the zillon wind. Haloween is calling me. I must connect, adapt to the old Fauns. She .....the girl.......she is one of my people!"  
A tear slowly made its way to her left cheek, she erased it with her fingertips.  
The earl sat listening knowing it was the wisest thing to do to be silent.  
" I must consult the Knowing Well" Grace said as she rushed out the door.  
" oh the flapping wings of a womans mind" The earl said and poked the logs in the fireplace  
 
Grace went down the spiral stairs to the vaults of the mansion. There where the air was damp and there was earthly solomn silence. She reached for the small well deep inside the stone surface. She sat down on the cold grounds. Closed her eyes and spoke " oh water, divine harbourer of Life, Open Now, the Portal"  
The wick of the flame from the lamp moved slightly.  
The water started to rumble, to bubble, burst and ripple. The sounds became louder. The ripples larger then stopped. The face of a woman appeared upon the water. It was the Abdessa Madam Lavender. Royal Abdessa of the rosary maiden order. Known as " Mother Divine" Her wise eyes showed  mercy and compassion. Her long dark hair cloaked her face. " My child" The Abdessa spoke.  
Grace began to weep. Her shoulders shook from a strange grief.  
" Oh Mother Divine, I must grant you permision to travel to Halloween.  
They have captured my third daughter. I had her when I was a young woman.  
The earl does not know, I have never told him. He knew I have had a child but She is not human. She is an Ydriad like me, a full blooded Ydriad...." My child" said the abdessa. " You must find Cosmic Crimson  
The horses of Naught have reached Her Fortess by now. It is All souls night soon  
You must act Quick my child" She said, and vanished into the deep well  
It rippled then silenced  
 
Grace took the lamp and climbed the long stairs up to the mansion.  
When she entered the hall, her two daughters ran towards her. She put an arm around each one of them and walked into the lounge to find the Earl snoring on the couch together with Dayum. They all giggled  
 
"Come my girls, we shall make a ChakraCall to CosmicCrimson"  
They went into a small room with equipments where a large screen hung.  
They took a headscarf over their hair and sang " oooohhhhmshaktiohhhm"  
The screen became blueish then pink, a man appeared saying CosmicCrimson was away on an important mission. They put the scarfs back into the drawer.  
"We shall return to our nightly quarters" Grace said " Dawn will have rain but when the sun will come we will leave for our journey to come"  
" where will we go to, mother?" Luna asked
" Halloween" answered Grace.  
Luna's eyes widened , she knew it was a special haunted place.  
Grase reasured them it would be fine as they reached the sleeping quarters  
A white sickle moon peaked in as if to say good night  
 
 
Written by AEMelia564 (Y)
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poet
Zazzles
Broom
Dangerous Mind
United States
20awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 23rd Nov 2013
Forum Posts: 1135

I cannot say much obviously, but I will say, this is getting so good!
Keep em coming everyone! I enjoyed everything i have read thus far!

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