Now I know the mysteries of the sea,
Tranquil emerald hues, emerald blues, enrapture me,
Forever embraced with the mermaid queen,
Now I know why the mariner nervously glances,
Why no one on Grand Isle will ever say he died.
For I too, will never die.
They say he never died!
In the night his spirit glides,
Through the cold the sea roars,
Pierre lives on forevermore.
‘The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.’
–H. P. Lovecraft (The Call of Cthulhu)
FOR THE SAKE OF THE DEAD AND THE WELFARE OF THE LIVING, LET THIS SEPULCHRE
REMAIN UNTOUCHED AND ITS OCCUPANT UNDISTURBED TILL THE COMING OF CHRIST.
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, THE SON, AND THE HOLY GHOST.
–F.G. Loring (The Tomb of Sarah)
A Greek god horror story to kill all HOPE. Really dark stuff.
‘The old man continued on his way to the sea, coming after a time upon two men who were digging a grave for a third who lay dead.
“It is a holy office to bury the dead,” he remarked.
“Aye,” said one of the men, “especially if you have slain him yourself and are hiding the evidence.”
–ROGER ZELAZNY (But Not The Herald)
KING OF THE GARGOYLE album is roaring away!!!
Bats flying! Flying!
In eternal night
From the river to the cave to wheel in the twilight.
–Jeffrey LeBlanc (Song of the Vampire Bats)
‘It’s not the kind of story that the columnists like to print; it’s not the yarn press-agents love to tell. When I was still in the Public Relations Department at the studio, they wouldn’t let me break it. I knew better than to try, for no paper would print such a tale. We publicity men must present Hollywood as a gay place; a world of glamor and star-dust. We capture only the light, but underneath the light there must always be shadows. I’ve always known that—it’s been my job to gloss over those shadows for years—but the events of which I speak from a disturbing pattern too strange to be withheld. The shadow of these incidents is not human.’
—Robert Bloch (Return to the Sabbath)
#vampire #Ghost #youtube #books #horrorstories #youtube #horrorstory #booktube #horrorshorts #horrorstories #pirates #flowers ‘She was wild, almost savage, with her great dark eyes boring into him. Her skin was white, smooth as alabaster. Her hair was jet black; and a waving coil of it, like a broken cobweb of pitch strings, framed her face. Grotesque hoops […]
#vampires #pirates #horrorstories #shorts #books #youtube #horrorshorts #horrorstories #thedevilofblackbayou #NewOrleans #neworleans #swamphorror #jeffreyleblanc #horrorstory #vampirehorror #books ‘It’s a nightmarish image Antoine that awakens me with the coldest of chills. I don’t know why I’m having this recurring nightmare, my love, when such a thing should never occur. But at any rate I have this persistent […]
#vampires #pirates #Asmodeus #weirdtales #youtube #horrorshorts #horrorstories #thedevilofblackbayou #NewOrleans #neworleans #swamphorror #jeffreyleblanc #horrorstory #vampirehorror #books ‘I took note of Lucien as he looked out on the southern horizon. He stared on as a fireball of lightning ignited the sky in a bluish white blaze over a crashing wave. That particular peculiar blaze of lightning was […]
#weirdtales #werewolf #horrorstories #books #icehorror#manlywadewellman #witchcraft #booktube #horrorstory #youtube #winter #horrorstories #death #cold #necronomicon #horrorstory #horrorshorts #appalachians “How could they know the frenzy, the throttling rage and the blood-thirst that closed over me like water in my locked room—every month, on the night when the moon was full?” —Manly Wade Wellman (The Werewolf Snarls) https://youtube.com/@dwellerofthedark?sub_confirmation=1 […]
#youtube #pagan #booktube #arthurmachen #weirdtales #horrorstories #pan #faun #horrorstory #horrorshorts #thegreatgodpan #satyr #books ‘Silet per diem universus, nec sine horrore secretus est; lucet nocturnis ignibus, chorus Ægipanum undique personatur: audiuntur et cantus tibiarum, et tinnitus cymbalorum per oram maritimam.’ –Arthur Machen (The Great God Pan–Chapter 5) https://rumble.com/v3ywmuy-pagan-horror-the-great-god-pan-chapter-5-the-letter-of-advice-by-arthur-mac.html https://youtube.com/@dwellerofthedark?sub_confirmation=1 https://youtube.com/shorts/gaZAcayE96s?feature=share https://youtu.be/3UjTY8cLLPc https://youtube.com/shorts/z48NBlWR2uk?feature=share https://youtube.com/shorts/yQkChZJGTK4?feature=share https://youtube.com/shorts/BepPwq6KGAs?feature=share https://youtube.com/shorts/paxzvJeW0-0?feature=share https://youtube.com/shorts/-XOTSyBL6a8?feature=share […]
“Omar Khayyam was right: Hell is the reflection of a soul burning.”–John H. Green (Seven Men in a Tank)
“I’m starting my journey across the waves of time! The blood is my time machine and my portal to the dimensions beyond. I see my loving, raven-haired wife. She is bathed in the foam of sea spray and blood. Lightning flashes around us in arcs of blistering white. Lightning etches around us in emerald green, A final blast paints us in a shade of deep blue. In the moments, between light and darkness, giant pinchers have grasped Marie’s flesh pulling her below! A glowing mauve pool of slime remains. A single hand floats above the sea and then submerges into depths below.
I float back to the present lashing out at the night air. I wrestle with imaginary phantoms who lurk back into that accursed moment in time when my wife was lost to me. I curse and send a glass breaking roar as I fight the ghost of an oozing leviathan who dissipates into mist.”
–Jeffrey LeBlanc (The Devil of Black Bayou Special Edition)
And each and every thing was transfigured in his vision, and in my vision—the vision he gave now to me—to the exquisite essence of itself. A wordless and eternal voice spoke from the starry veil of heaven, it sang in the wind that rushed through the broken timbers; it sighed in the flames that ate the sooted stones of the hearth.–Anne Rice (The Master of Rampling Gate)
