WITCHCRAFT SPELLS: ‘Ornaments in Jade–The Ceremony’ by Arthur Machen
From her childhood, from those early and misty days which began to seem unreal, she recollected the grey stone in the wood.–Arthur Machen (The Ceremony)
From her childhood, from those early and misty days which began to seem unreal, she recollected the grey stone in the wood.–Arthur Machen (The Ceremony)
Away with us he’s going,
The solemn-eyed:
He’ll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than he can understand.–William Butler Yeats (The Stolen Child)
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#antichrist #appalachians #merlin #Satan #Asmodeus #satanichorror #foresthorror #youtube #weirdtales #jeffreyleblanc #book #quantumentanglement #horrorstory #monster #horrorshort #mountainhorror #youtube #invisible #appalachianmountains #books #booktube #horrorcommunity #hwa #writingcommunity #horrorwriting #youtube #robertlouisstevenson #horrorstories #death # #horrorstory #horrorshorts #horrorcommunity ‘It was dark in the room—what would have been Ruby and Thad’s room—where they lay Ruby in her coffin. The whole room […]
#halloween #booktube #goblin #fairies #creature #algernonblackwood #horrorstories #halloween2023 ‘All names thus have their meaning and are usually pretty recently acquired, while the majority are self-explanatory and suggest human and pioneer relations. Skeleton Lake, therefore, was a name full of suggestion, and though none of us knew the origin or the story of its birth, we […]
“By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have wandered home but newly
From this ultimate dim Thule.”–Edgar Allan Poe (Dream-Land)
He did not look long. A single moment of numbing realization, and then he leaped into the pool–leaped straight into the deepest water, breaking with his body the mad reflection he had seen on the mirrored surface.
Follow on children of horror by padded, clawed feet as we journey ever on into shadowed waterways, fog-foetid bayous, and amongst the darkness of decayed swamp without torch, flashlight, or candle flame with only lunar light to guide our way.
Those distant baying howls you hear are nothing to fear. And the growl circling you can’t be a w—, or can they? There’s no such thing of course.