Upon that night, when fairies light
On Cassilis Downans dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean the route is ta’en,
Beneath the moon’s pale beams;
There, up the cove, to stray and rove,
Among the rocks and streams
To sport that night.
–Robert Burns (Hallowe’en)
‘Forget the John. Just call me, Jack.’—Robert Bloch (Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper)
“Yes, they had horns and other changes to them.” The whole crowd went deathly silent. No one dared say a word after hearing about the Claunes having horns. To ease everyone, “It might have been in-breeding folks. Not the supernatural stuff all of you have on your minds.” –Jeffrey LeBlanc (The Cats of Belle Rouge)
‘Black shadows wavered on the walls as the two followed their silent host down a long, dark hall. The stocky, broad body of their guide seemed to grow and expand in the light of the small candle which he carried, throwing a long, grim shadow behind him. At a certain door he halted, indicating that they were to sleep there. –Robert E. Howard (Rattle of Bones)
Oh witchfire burn take this pain away
Lost in the swamp where shadows sway
My love gone where night holds sway
Dreams and nightmares blend to gray
–Jeffrey LeBlanc (Witchfire Burns on Belle Rouge)
One drink one dance under skies
One bourbon one night no disguise
One scotch one tear that falls near
Raise your glass one last cheer –Jeffrey LeBlanc (Cajun Moonlight Tears)
He felt the cool air of the open sky on his cheeks,
and when he looked down, as they cleared the summit
of the dark-lying hills, he saw that Issidy had melted
away into himself and they had become one being.
And he knew then that his heart would never pain
him again on earth, or cause him to fear for any of his
beloved dreams. –Algernon Blackwood (The Dance of Death)
And waving in a dusky dragon light
Great moths whose wings unholy tapers char.
Red memory on memory, tier on tier, Builds up a tower, time and space to span;
Through world on world I rise, and sphere on sphere,
To star-shot gulfs of lunacy and fear— Black screaming ages never dreamed by man.’
–Robert E. Howard (Babel)
She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she gaz’d and sighed deep,
And there I shut her wild sad eyes So kiss’d to sleep.
And there we slumber’d on the moss,
And there I dream’d, ah woe betide!—
The latest dream I ever dream’d On the cold hill side.’ –John Keats (La Belle Dame Sans Merci)
I am still alive! I am still alive!
But I am not the same
You can see the truth
Oh, immortal soul no one is to blame
Fate has played its part
In matters of the heart
— Jeffrey LeBlanc (For the Love of a Phantom)
‘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)
“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)
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)
#horrorstories #medusa#horrorstory #horrorgram #books #bookstagram #booktube #booktubecommunity #gorgons –Jeffrey LeBlanc (The Gorgon–PRLOGUE) https://youtube.com/@dwellerofthedark?sub_confirmation=1 https://youtu.be/dkg5V2gXdEs https://youtu.be/sFhe8b47a2A https://youtu.be/fg38MkDICSI https://youtu.be/1ykEqAIvvlw https://youtu.be/zHX1eHoORVE Welcome ….to…. Dweller of the Dark! We are a channel honoring the yellowed and blackened bones of many prominent authors. We will be digging up several obscure, strange, and forgotten authors who influenced many of the great […]
#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 […]
