“Charles, let me help you. Your friends are not statues.” The gorgon’s hissing voice was terror beyond comprehension. Dread and despair had finally broken me.’
–Jeffrey LeBlanc (THE GORGON)
“Paul” I said, “you may as well tell me the whole story.”
–Robert A.W. Lowndes (CLARISSA)
The screams, that fourteenth night, continued until dawn. They were totally unlike any sounds in my experience. Impossible to believe they could be uttered and sustained by a human, yet they did not seem to be animal. I listened, there in the gloom, my hands balled into fists, and knew, suddenly, that one of two things must be true. Either someone or something was making these ghastly sounds, and Brother Christophorus was lying, or–I was going mad. Hearing-voices mad, climbing-walls and frothing mad. I’d have to find the answer: that I knew. And by myself.
–Charles Beaumont (THE HOWLING MAN)
Carling’s Marsh, some called it, but more often it was known by the name of MIVE. Strange name that–Mive. And it was a strange place. —Carl Jacobi (MIVE)
HIS voice came to us again. He said, at first, that he saw nothing in the abyss below him. Then he gasped, swayed, and almost lost his balance. We could see the sweat standing out on his brow and neck, soaking his blue shirt. There were things in the abyss, he said in hoarse tones, great shapes that were like blobs of utter blackness, yet which he knew to be alive. From the central masses of their beings he could see them shoot forth incredibly long, filamentine tentacles. They moved themselves forward and backward — horizontally, but could not move vertically, it seemed. They were, he thought, nothing but living shadows.
Robert A.W. Lowndes (THE ABYSS)
From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of its inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this
sequestered glen has long been known by the name of SLEEPY HOLLOW, and its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all the neighboring country. A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere.
–Washington Irving (The Legend of Sleepy Hollow)
hey were people of curious aspect, short and squat, high-cheekboned, with dingy yellow skin and long almond eyes; only in one or two of the younger men there was a suggestion of a wild, almost faunlike grace, as of creatures who always moved between the red fire and the green leaf. –Arthur Machen (The Turanians)
KING OF THE GARGOYLE album is roaring away!!!
To feel alive with your terrified pulse pounding, to feel the warm embrace of love, to have your teeth chatter with fear, the stomach quivering nausea of dread, or the blinding throes of rage, is what I offer with this collection. These horror poems I share with you have blazed the flames brightly to inspire me to create the most ghastly of horror tales and the most powerful of rock songs to date. You’re going to know my soul crushing angst in ‘Blood in the Pouring Rain’ as I saved my father’s life. You’ll look over your shoulder a glance or two maybe with a tear hearing the haunting ‘Sarah the Eternal’. And maybe you will laugh and howl along with ‘Ghost on Christmas Mountain’ to lift your spirits.
For all the rest of my life, in outward form I was to be that man! —H. P. Lovecraft (The Wicked Clergyman)
‘Forget the John. Just call me, Jack.’—Robert Bloch (Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper)
‘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)
‘The blackened face, the hideous form upon the bed, changing and melting before your eyes from woman to man, from man to beast, and from beast to worse than beast, all the strange horror that you witness, surprises me but little.’ –Arthur Machen (The Great God Pan–CHAPTER 8 The Fragments)
#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 […]
#weirdtales #books #icehorror#lovecraft #resurrection #youtube #winter #horrorstories #death #cold #necronomicon #horrorstory #horrorshorts #appalachians You ask me to explain why I am afraid of a draught of cool air; why I shiver more than others upon entering a cold room and seem nauseated and repelled when the chill of evening creeps through the heat of a […]
Jeffrey LeBlanc 