Witness herein, an archive of our avatar’s submissions to the Twitterverse, a collection of sinister snippets that consist of no more than the preordained amount of characters.
These will be updated on a regular basis.
They were previously featured on the #horrorprompt Twitter page and we strongly encourage all aspiring or established writers of the macabre to frequent this page to acquire inspiration and peruse other writer’s works.
July 25, 2020-
Some say Hell is hot but I know the truth; I feel the cold as it solidifies my veins
Here in the dark, there is #noexit but it’s…peaceful
The dark and cold calms me here in this infernal eternity
There is no way out but then why would I ever want to leave?
June 28, 2020-
Wormwood burns among the void echoing ruin to the all who stand in its terrible, glorious light
Here in the waste we want for naught for what could slake the thirst of the damned?
Drink from the trough of truth and see those blighted by starlight here in days to come
June 21, 2020-
Crackling flames, olde magick set to keep the shadows at bay
Huddle deep, weary one, before the hearth and fear that which stalks the dark and wild.
This blackened sanctuary, will quell the depths but only if you remain here in the light
Do you wonder what lies beyond?
May 13, 2020 –
Singed bones frozen screams of untold tragedies born from grim pages whispered on blackened tongues
The village lie in charred timbers but from death comes life: one embryonic glistening hand clutching forth from the ruin, eager for the next slaughter
May 2, 2020-
I grasp the peat soaked moor and bathe in baleful moonlight
They huddle nearby, I smell the sweat and fear and pitiful offerings.
A what’s this? New prey from another world. This is my kingdom to ravage as they soon will see…hail the blue moon
April 24, 2020-
I used the icepick but it did nothing to quell my torture
I can’t hear; I FEEL it
That horrible keening wail, wave after wave of blighted sound echoing on red stained emeralds, misty moors
They say her cry brings death but if I can’t hear… maybe I’ll be safe
April 13, 2020-
I strike out on the crooked and narrow path leading to locales unknown and untold
The unpaved edges bleed into a dusky void: I know what waits beyond the threshold
I can hear them. Sometimes they’ll reach out for me and I must step lively.
Its a long road ahead.
March 31, 2020-
He should have arrived sooner …. if only…
he could have helped them..
He arrived at the site and saw the broken, torn flesh
Saw the others satisfied with full bellies
Nothing but scraps left.. if only he’d gotten there sooner
February 23, 2020-
This is where the fallacy of flesh becomes truth
Here in the old earth beneath crawling desperate hands the carapace reigns
Cold unyielding Sifting sour soil w/ splintered limbs and reaching higher to claim that which is clutched by soft skin
So easily ripped…
February 14, 2020-
An Empire of desiccation and glorious rot rests just beneath the sour soil
Metal spades and mounted lights illuminate the world below
Broken ground gives way as
Those beneath taste the sweet air and crawl forth to sup on salted red
As below, so above forevermore
February 7, 2020 –
Hector Barlow crossed the threshold as so many had before him and would do so after. Here, in this decrepit circle, nothing grew nor lived. A patch of sour soil, unfit for all but the most arcane. He cast a wary, worn gaze back to the forest. They were coming, all amber lights and floating lanterns carried on a wind that existed elsewhere from a world forgotten. They surrounded him in the circle; he felt their heat and embraced their light. There, Barlow knelt and awaited the wisps to do what they existed to do. And in a flash of acrid light, he disappeared beyond where living souls tread, to a world where the light encompasses all but none, simultaneously on the threshold of time.
November 17, 2019-
Through candlelit lace and rust flecked walls, I’ll follow you through these shattered halls
Breathe deep, my dear, this tired air and embrace the shade as we lay bare This house, this keep is ours untold, as we embrace and succumb to the cold
November 16, 2019-
My teeth are twisted and brittle with use but I it doesn’t bother me
Mother always said I had a lovely smile and I make sure it’s the last thing they see before I indulge.
They say it hurts but how can it?
They die seeing how happy they’ve made me…
October 30, 2019-
Pierce the veil
Split the seam
Relinquish the night to the harvest bane
This night is theirs, coated in amber arcane
Guise the night
Embrace the fright
and revel in mischievous blight
Hell’s ember lights the dead and bereaved
On this the night of Hallow’s Eve
June 15, 2019-
He asked if he could be hers but she did not answer
Rather she lead him tenderly into the chamber
There, after a passionate night she slit his throat with red tinted nails and began to feed.
The last word he heard was the answer he longed to hear:
May 27, 2019 – Great things come in small packages. A universal truth ran rotten by way of tiny eggs implanted deep within.
They bring forth new life which is a great thing indeed save for those who suffer to malignant parasites borne beyond the stars, silent in infinite black
May 1, 2019-
They’re not supposed to fold that way, are they?
Well, sometimes you just have to really *grunt* force them *strain* IN THERE
What do you think?
Good thing he was a contortionist
A little bulgy but
If anyone asks that’s 100% not a body in that briefcase.
April 21, 2019 –
Breaking news: Disney covertly buys out ALL horror IP licenses and plans to Plus their attractions for their Halloween Party
Look for “We All Float Down the Rivers of America” “The Toontown Jigsaw Massacre “No one can hear you scream in Space Mountain” & “Pirates of Crystal Lake”
April 11, 2019- I once knew laughter, amiable chatter & mirth The walls are thick and padded where I am now. I hear no sound yet I must scream a silence that petrifies and lingers only on vestiges of what I once knew They wont let me out but… Its peaceful…maybe its not so bad
March 17, 2019 – She sits back, satiated sigh, caked in the remnants of a hearty feast. Yet still hunger stirs. Maybe just one more nibble. Indulgence why not? She reaches into the hunter’s stomach and frowns in disappointment.
Must have been hungrier than she thought
February 23, 2019 – An epic discovery in dust choked tombs; the people were amazed Old remains clad in white veil, rotting black suits Desiccated flowers and molded pastry An odd mating ritual? So primitive. Didn’t they know post-mating mortality is much more efficient?
January 26, 2019– If the Abyss gazes back why would one steel away from that glance of forbidden knowledge? See what clings to the shade with carapace legs and flits between the razor edges of worlds unknown. To not know is sorrow. Those cursed with such horrible sanity; I pity you
January 8, 2019– I had it all figured out. I glimpsed what some might call unknown, others would say they knew all along (lies). I…experimented a bit. Imbibed. The blood nourished and gave sight. I knew what to expect But not this…this Fear I feel…this is New… I like it.
December 24, 2018 – Silent night, star-less night All is calm amongst winter’s blight Upon yon virgin snow desecrate Red upon white to unveil thy fate Sleep in frozen peace So that we might enjoy our Christmas feast
December 11, 2018– A Horned one, Old and wire thin, opens his sack to see what lies within. Children naughty one and all but none have fallen to his thrall.
He asks them why they do not fear, Overexposure to his myth causes them hiss and jeer. He shrugs, plucks out their eyes one by one. “How about now?” he asks. “Krampusnacht has only just begun!”
October 25, 2018– I feel it burning inside; savage, ravage and scourge But I dont fear it because I embrace the blight, its good to me It grants me sights unseen and dreams untold of worlds beyond our own and eldritch truths unknown It burns but I embrace the fever and the truth
September 30, 2018– Stevenson knew: the clawings at his synapses were of a different ilk, one of duality and yet all the same. An Alter Ego that evoked that which he found most abhorrent & thus put pen to paper to transcribe those thoughts that disturbed (and yes, delighted) him most
September 9, 2018– She gathers the light, ribbons of flowing streams and lets them curl through dancing, luminous hands. In the black, in this space, she weaves with intricacy thoughts that are not pure; they cast undiluted dark into the cold void where light goes to waste
August 17, 2018– Scalding stars and choking the cosmos, a rogue comet churns the ancient night. Too foul to be named yet shades of WormWood echo as the celestial body spreads twilight blight. Far below, terrestrial stricken as stardust coats in cosmic death.
July 25, 2018– Burned and cursed through an act of remorse, lest one seek solace in the great wyrm’s corpse. Slice it open, crawl inside the rot, amidst the waste you’ll find your cot. For the great beast only sook to feast now here dwell within and confront your beast
July 9, 2018–
They grow up so fast, But sometimes they just need a little push, a little enrichment
That’s why we mangle the bodies so thoroughly. A little puzzle for him to solve.
Look! He’s putting the eye right back in the skull!
Now boy, where does the heart go?
*sniff* I’m so proud
June 20, 2018–
Pickled proper, salted, not too much knowledge to clutter the choicest cut
But perhaps one borne witness to things eldritch and unknown might baste the mind in tastes complex and exotic
Let me show you something
June 13, 2018– We warned him, man. I swear we did. He knew the consequences. If you betray our family, tell them about our recipe.. Well, he had to hose out juniors cage after the last informant got caught. He knew. He knew Junior has a sweet tooth. Stool pigeon pie is his fave.
June 5, 2018– sharp intake of shortened breath. Then comes ear piercing exhalation to curdle the blood.
Too loud.. Distracting from the task at hand..
Less so with slit throats. No reverberation to conjure the noise.
Ah. Much better. Peaceful.
May 28, 2018– Bones work best when boiled, stewed in juices of lives long lost to darker appetites. Lift that lid and breathe in deep. Can you sense it? The pain, the fear? Miasmatic essence to baste and broth. Now come close and I’ll give you a taste of sweeter meats still..
May 7, 2018– everywhere I look the hatred and anger runs deep. We live in a waste of toxicity and emotional blighted fire. This cylinder feels true; it’s contents a special strain cooked up specifically. i’ll open it and show how toxic things are: its about to get very literal.
April 13, 2018– The first 12 kisses were want for nothing, save a sliver of his soul; there in the darkness of his room. She arrived every night at 3am, bathed in moonlight. On the 13th night, she took him with her and there he dwells in a barren, cold hell under succubi light.
March 27, 2018– Greasy smoke belches from the slaughterhouse into a jaundice sky as The Butchers return for another prosperous day. Pulverize the meat slice and salt. The Ravenous Ones below demand satiation. Any meat will do but one certain kind tastes best and so they do their duty
March 16, 2018– Nobody noticed when she hid enshrouded. When she chose the one that interested her the most. When she clung steadfast to him, a razor’s embrace. When she began to feed. And still, nobody noticed as the withered husk fell and she withdrew to the shade, never satiated
February 25, 2018– The king sits upon his obsidian throne and watches the fell horde with complacency. Those damned souls below who fall to ancient flesh and vile claws beg for mercy. Yet he remains stoic, still. He simply watches as the river runs red and then finally, he smiles.
February 15, 2018– bound, blind, ensnared. No food, light. Driven mad w rage, hunger desperation She is released, still blind She tears into her meat hears it scream and squeal beneath her cracked nails Had she eyes she’d recognize her meal, eyes she had seen in a life long forgotten.
January 28, 2018– Tiny remains packed away nice and neat. Coffin hinges neglected sound the approach of homunculic remains. They gather as one hive mind dedicated to the cause Tiny coffins smashed beneath the footfall of the community one mass of bones hell bent to slake their thirst.
January 20,2018 – sifting through lasts nights meal, I found a pinky bone and a molar. I TOLD him no more humans, apparently he doesn’t know the meaning of low profile. Oh, The trap springs outside…I prep my digestive enzymes, stretch my amorphous tendril. We’ll discuss this later..
January 10, 2018– in red dust ancient entities slumber no longer, unearthed. Fragments of a different society.They were simple, brutish beasts. Pity they were not more sporting when our kings obliterated them. An easy conquest, these feeble beings. Homo sapiens, extinct and obsolete
January 1, 2018– when veins turn black, it is too late for recourse. Channels of life giving essence corrupted into something.. Foul and fetid. Nobody knew of this hidden virus until they succumbed. And when the rivulets of rot course from your body, you’ll have never seen it coming
November 29,2017– it’s important to practice proper food preservation techniques, lest the parcel rot. Don t take a cue from Poe, seal your flesh inside a freezer…A walled off hole is a poor cask to accurately stave the rot. Your victim will spoil and then, what’s the point?
September 27, 2017– With jaundiced flesh and greasy fangs, he bares his yellow grin. Sallow fat mingles with red and grey as he digs further in.
August 8, 2017 – In countless rows of blighted crops the harvest has ended, blood has dried. A solitary straw sentinel protects the rotted past.
July 25,2017– Meat we grind & bones we break to quell a hunger never slaked. Though the hunger pangs feel we will not interrupt your meal.
July 11, 2017– We starve for flesh, we crave your skin but such tiny morsels will not suffice. If you truly loved us, you’d slough off more..
June 22, 2017– Brackish mire dripping down the walls of the old shack, where magick born totems are razed in a hearth, Oil-black
June 2, 2017– 4 riders clad in foretold fury but one strikes fast and true. Rampant Pestilence reigns oer the land, blighted eternity
May 25, 2017– What a wicked net of film we weave to ensnare those who would not believe. We feel you shake and now our thirst we must slake.
May 19, 2017 –
Mankind falls, this world is dread of a regal predator; birth in red.
New flesh risen to seek warmth; internal organs the safest hearth
Engineered for glory and perfection, so succumbs this infection
Amongst the stars the screams fall silent..
May 8,2017 – A growing darkness spreads, obsidian wings enshrouds all stars. The Night drops upon me and I drink deep from the well of black.
April 29, 2017 – Partially digested remains from a night spent under Hunters Moon. A night I cant forget for flesh under my nails won’t let me.
April 23, 2017 – Down the moonlit trail we run, hand in claw forever as one. Here in the silver we are safe to sup the red of forgotten waifs.
April 19, 2017 – Eyes shut tight and warm breath on ear hushed whispers. A secret to tell in tongue arcane softly spoken “I’ve always been here.”
April 13, 2017 – Glimmering shards of glass, embedded in my skin. Glossy, iridescent. I wonder what they’ll look like sunken further in..
April 9, 2017 – Grease paint slathered to bring joy. Yet the masses flee prompting carnage with a wide red smile. Joy comes in many flavors..
April 4, 2017– Knuckles and knees scoured rough and raw from a life lived feral, a life well lived with jaw of red, civility dead.
April 2, 2017 – The shade is closing in, suffocation and shadows. But I accept and drop my flame, inviting the creeping black into my life.
March 23, 2017 – Deeply frozen quells relentless hunger, cold dead embrace and soot black maw gnash once more with spring’s warm thaw.
March 18, 2017 – In drunken stupor he unveils a masterwork of flesh and fruit. Vine enwrapped and blossom red, tribute to the Wine God of Old