Category: firstnationshorror

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‘Thunder shook the ground and thunder shook my heart,

But no storm cloud was above to make the heavens part

Then I saw the nightmarish monstrosity–a creature stride across my path

Lumbering as an oak, creaking as the pines with two legs it hath

I stopped and stared at the towering shadow that stood before me

Ancient was the swaying beast who shook earth and topped tree.’ —Jeffrey LeBlanc (The Shadow on the Mountain)

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“John you heard that fucking maniac. He said ‘I’m no man, Sheriff Hughes, as you might have suspected. I’m a cursed dog destined to screw up and kill everything that ever loved me or would love me.” I rubbed my left temple and paused looking at the blood—Two Horse’s blood—dried on my hand. “I wonder if all these things Two Horse believes in—evil spirits, black magic, skinwalkers, and of course demons, could be worse than him?”–Thomas Swafford (Skinwalker-CHAPTER 3)

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Which Earth and Heaven could not convulse,
A mighty lesson we inherit:
Thou art a symbol and a sign
To Mortals of their fate and force;
Like thee, Man is in part divine,
A troubled stream from a pure source;
And Man in portions can foresee
His own funereal destiny;
His wretchedness, and his resistance,
And his sad unallied existence:
To which his Spirit may oppose
Itself—and equal to all woes,
And a firm will, and a deep sense,
Which even in torture can descry
Its own concenter’d recompense,
Triumphant where it dares defy,
And making Death a Victory.–Lord Byron (Prometheus)

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#foresthorror #weirdtales #ambrosebierce #horrorstory #monster #horrorshort #mountainhorror #youtube #invisible #appalachians #books #booktube #horrorcommunity #hwa #writingcommunity #horrorwriting #youtube #robertlouisstevenson #horrorstories #death # #horrorstory #horrorshorts #horrorcommunity ‘By the light of a tallow candle which had been placed on one end of a rough table a man was reading something written in a book.  It was an old […]

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Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”–Edgar Allan Poe (The Raven)

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Sometimes an Appalachian story is so humanistic, so brutal, and horrific, that its very existence is terrifying. We can’t believe such a tale has been allowed to fester and erupt like a malignant, rotting boil. Yarns like the one I’m about to spin, are the hideous tales whispered in the shadows and taken to the grave. But sometimes the tale, like the undead, rise up to haunt us again, and again for all eternity. And some of us have just a few meager years left to be terrified in each of our own haunted worlds. Alas, cold in the ground with the Conqueror Worm our only friend, we may continue to be tormented by the ghosts—or demons—of our past. –Jeffrey LeBlanc (Hell’s Forge: In the Beginning)

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Sometimes an Appalachian story is so humanistic, so brutal, and horrific, that its very existence is terrifying. We can’t believe such a tale has been allowed to fester and erupt like a malignant, rotting boil. Yarns like the one I’m about to spin, are the hideous tales whispered in the shadows and taken to the grave. But sometimes the tale, like the undead, rise up to haunt us again, and again for all eternity. And some of us have just meager years left to be terrified in each of our own haunted worlds. Alas, cold in the ground with the Conqueror Worm our only friend, we may continue to be tormented by the ghosts—or demons—of our past.–Jeffrey LeBlanc (Hell’s Forge: In the Beginning PART TWO)

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‘Yes, after fifty years of law enforcement I know how hideous, cruel, and evil, people can be. Whether the Devil made them do it, who knows? How many times did I face true evil in my career? It’s hard to really say, and I have certainly lost count. And to be honest, I often do my damnedest to try and forget. I’ve heard you can only stare into darkness for so long before it stains you. Or–as in my case–it locks its claws into you, never to let go.’
—Thomas Swafford (Skinwalker)