Tales of Dark Romance and Horror

I've been considering the possibility of self-publishing my fiction for quite a long time now. For a while, I put the idea off because I wanted enough stories available to create a full-sized hard-cover or paperback book. Still, I was intrigued enough with the idea that I looked into what it would take to self-publish; and after checking with the various agencies that offer the appropriate services and speaking with folks who have done it, I realized that there would be quite a technical learning curve to overcome  in order to meet my goal. Of course, if one is willing to spend the right amount of money, it's possible to get everything done with very little personal effort. Considering that my collection still isn't large enough to publish in a full-sized book, I haven't seen any point in going further with the idea until later. (Whew!) That said, I still found myself wanting to get my material out there without always having to take my chances submitting to various horror magazines. 

I did continue exploring the possibilities therefore, and I finally found a venue that suited my needs and would allow me to offer each of my pieces of fiction for a minimal price as well as a zip file containing the entire collection. So, I began the slow process of setting up another blog/website, permissions for photos and all of the technical issues involved with making it happen last summer. As I've probably mentioned before, I'm not the most technically savvy person in the world; that's why it has taken me months to get this project off the ground. Today however, I'm pleased to announce that things are ready to roll and I'm very happy to provide a link here to my new blog/website, which is called Tales of Romance and Horror.
   
What are my stories about? Well, the title of my new web page pretty much tells it all. Most of my fiction contains all the darkly romantic and sensual elements that my twisted mind can conjure up; this while keeping an eye on magick, the supernatural and horror. If you take the time to read through my material you,ll be brought to places where seductive vampires roam, alluring femme fatales lead their victims to their potential demise, and where hideous creatures terrify and wreak havoc.

Enough said then, I present you all with Tales of Dark Romance and Horror.

The above photo appears courtesy of Lady-Moriendistock. Visit her impressive gallery here.

The Colors of Halloween

The crows were fussing once again, as I awoke to what can only be described as a beautiful Sunday morning. The local corvids have been quite noisy these past few mornings, perhaps in their desire to announce that Halloween, their favorite day of the year, is almost upon us. One thing is for certain, their commotion changes from day to day and from season to season. The fussing I heard this morning struck me as particularly joyous; and though these remarkable birds are often seen as the harbingers of bad news or the dark beings who guide discarnate spirits to the land of the dead, I know that there are times when they revel in the beauty that is around them. Indeed, Indian summer has finally arrived in the Ozarks!

The past summer provided us with plentiful amounts of rain, so everyone around here has been waiting in anticipation for that which is expected to be a colorful autumn. For whatever reason, the colors have been slow in coming this year; and truth be told, things are greener than they should be for late October. Still, with the crow's morning announcement and with rain forecast for much of the week ahead, I thought that today would be a good day to at least try capturing some of the emerging colors in the local cemeteries.

 This first photo was taken from my driveway. It captures the Confederate Cemetery with a view to the northwest. Downtown Fayetteville can be seen in the background; and if you look closely, you should see the clock tower on the old Washington County Courthouse. Hangings used to take place there, back in the old days. There's not a lot of color here on East Mountain as of yet, so I didn't focus much on the cemeteries that I live by.

 Next, I drove over to the historic Evergreen Cemetery, which is situated very close to our entertainment district and the University of Arkansas. The tree in the background was displaying unique coloration as if trying to say, "take a picture of me!" So I did; several as a matter of fact. Notice the two grave markers center right. These date back to the nineteenth century.

 The maple shown here displayed some of the brightest colors available on this Sunday morning. Soon, the landscape will be filled with spectacles such as this.

Here's a shot of that unusually colored tree from a different angle.

I just love this spot. There's a small but sturdy bench to sit upon while taking in the colors, the warmth of an Indian summer morning and the peace that picturesque burial grounds such as this are able to provide.





As mentioned earlier, I was hoping to get more spectacular photos of what promises to be a glorious autumn, but the mundane activities of life, personal projects and weather may not allow. Still, it was wonderful taking in such a special place on such a beautiful morning.

The crows have announced it; the trees are now beginning their colorful autumn displays and the veil between the worlds is growing thin. All Hallows Eve is drawing nigh. Those who pay attention to such things can feel it. A Happy Halloween to all!

Halloween Traditions

It's a dreary, cool and overcast day here on East Mountain and across the Ozark region. There's rain coming in and it looks as though it could arrive just about any time now. The nearby maples are beginning to display their autumn colors, which stand out in sharp contrast against a gray and bleak afternoon sky. Days such as this are the true harbingers of an impending Halloween, for they not only impose upon us visual images of a deepening autumn, but they conjure up from within emotions, impressions and feelings of a different nature; this, even as they inspire visions of jack o' lanterns glowing on porches, witches flying in front of a full moon on their broomsticks and discarnate entities roaming the darkened countryside. Preparations for All Hallows Eve are indeed under way!

My witch friend (shown here) had her short photo-op yesterday and has now taken her rightful place swinging from the a long hanging tree branch in front of the cottage. It's a place where, after months of confinement indoors, she can behold the colorful spectacle beginning to unfold inside and around the cemeteries while she hovers and casts devious spells into the autumn breezes. Rather than linger alone, she is joined by her vampire friend who, clad in cloak and top hat, will lie in wait each night in hopes that some passerby--prey if you will, might draw too close and  unwittingly, provide sustenance to this most thirsty of creatures. On the other side of the cottage remains the Guardian, who quite ghoulish in his own right, stands constant vigil against possible disturbances from the North, which might otherwise upset the eerie quiet surrounding these burial grounds. 


 



For me, putting some of my ghoulish friends outside in advance of All Hallows Eve is a long standing tradition. I just love it when I can add a bit more creepy ambiance to my outdoor surroundings. Still, this is just one of my Halloween customs. Here are a few more:





Fire: It used to be that I would build a small camp fire and sit by it for awhile on All Hallows Eve. In Celtic lore Samhain marks not only the time when the veil between the worlds is the thinnest, but also the beginning of that which was once referred to as the long darkness, the time of year when nights are longest. The ancient Celts kept fires burning throughout the night while thanking the God/Goddess for providing sunlight and plenty during the year. While I haven't built a camp fire in recent years, I maintain my fire tradition by keeping a candle burning in my jack o' lantern throughout the night and while home, a candle burning on a desk or table. 

At the coffee shop: At the shop where I do a lot of my coffee drinking, one of the offerings at this time of year is a flavor called punkin pie. It's a bit spicey, aromatic, and is really has a pumpkin-like taste--a treat I look forward to when October rolls around. 

Going to the entertainment district: Every year I enjoy going down to Dickson Street to see everyone dressed in costume. It can really be a sight to behold and from time to time, the strip becomes an absolute freak show. With growth taking place at the local university and more students in town during the school year, our entertainment district is becoming noisier and more rowdy than it used to be. So, I've been shying away from there somewhat in recent years. Quite simply it's just not my scene anymore, but who knows? A renewed visit is in order. Regardless, I do like to go out, at least to my local pub and favorite hangout, where lots of people show up in costume. 

Gothing up: I consider Halloween to be more than just one night. To me, it's a season of sorts, which depending upon the weather, fall colors and overall feel might last for a week or two. During this time, which extends into the Day of the Dead, I tend to goth up a bit more creatively than usual. You know the routine; black nail polish, vampire shirts or my Reaper's Bride shirt, a personal favorite. Since I don't generally dress in costume, gothing up works quite nicely for me.

Cemetery: I make it a point to visit the small Walker Cemetery, which is situated to the side of my driveway. I'm not saying that it's all that creepy there or anything, but it has more of the types of stones and monuments that figure in Halloween imagery. It's always nice to spend a few minutes there, communing with the spirits of the past.

Halloween Stores: In my opinion, it wouldn't be Halloween without visiting stores catering to the holiday. I've already made my pilgrimage once this season, and might do so again. Often, I return on the day after, when all of the items I coveted but didn't want to pay the price for the first time around, are offered at a 50 percent discount. 

Eating the Children's Candy: This is a good one! Every year, I buy some candy--just in case some trick or treaters come by while I'm still at home. Yet, in all the years that I've lived here by the cemeteries on East Mountain, not one child in costume has ever knocked on my door. It seems that passing by the cemeteries through the Halloween darkness is too unnerving for them. I've known this for a long time now, and really don't expect anyone to come by. Still, I buy the chocolate bars--just in case. So, when the kids don't show up, I get all the candy! Isn't that a bit of evil scheming on my part?

Music: Let's face it; considering my love of doom metal and such, I listen to pretty creepy music all year long. Still, there's some dark ambient and neoclassical dark wave that I especially enjoy listening to on the nights leading up to All Hallows Eve. It's music that conjures up images in my mind and greatly increases my appreciation for this time of year. That said, no Halloween is complete without listening to Type O Negative's Bloody Kisses. I'm referring to the song as opposed to the entire album, which goes by the same name. I consider Bloody Kisses my Halloween theme song and for me at least, it's oh so Goth!

There you have it! Now you know my personal Halloween traditions. So how about you? Would you care to sharel any of yours? 

       

The Beast in the Cave

Autumn has finally arrived to the Ozark Mountains. Until around daybreak yesterday morning the air was still quite warm and summer-like. Then, with flashes of lightning, the rumbling of thunder and heavy rain, the seasons seem to have abruptly changed. Of course, things are still green here on East Mountain, but there is now a briskness in the air, and last night the crickets sang their songs at a much slower tempo. The katydids, those denizens of the summer night whose unmistakeable calls resonate throughout the mountains, valleys and meadows from twilight til the first glimmer of morning light, had fallen silent. The change of the seasons has been abrupt and pronounced. Suddenly, it feels as though Halloween is drawing near--and what better time to read a horror story! 

For me, there hasn't been much going on during the past week or two; at least not anything of interest in a Gothic sense. So, for this week's post, I thought I'd give myself a break and post a short story that I really like. It's a most enjoyable tale that was written on April 21, 1905 by the great American Horror writer, H.P. Lovecraft. The piece was eventually presented for public consumption in a publication called The Vagrant in June, 1918. It has long been known that Mr. Lovecraft's work was greatly inspired by that of Edgar Allan Poe; and of the many stories I've read by this author, I find this one the most Poe-like. So then, for those of you who enjoy a good read, here is...

The Beast in the Cave - by H.P. Lovecraft

The horrible conclusion which had been gradually intruding itself upon my confused and reluctant mind was now an awful certainty. I was lost, completely, hopelessly lost in the vast and labyrinthine recess of the Mammoth Cave. Turn as I might, in no direction could my straining vision seize on any object capable of serving as a guidepost to set me on the outward path. That nevermore should I behold the blessed light of day, or scan the pleasant bills and dales of the beautiful world outside, my reason could no longer entertain the slightest unbelief. Hope had departed. Yet, indoctrinated as I was by a life of philosophical study, I derived no small measure of satisfaction from my unimpassioned demeanour; for although I had frequently read of the wild frenzies into which were thrown the victims of similar situations, I experienced none of these, but stood quiet as soon as I clearly realised the loss of my bearings.

Nor did the thought that I had probably wandered beyond the utmost limits of an ordinary search cause me to abandon my composure even for a moment. If I must die, I reflected, then was this terrible yet majestic cavern as welcome a sepulchre as that which any churchyard might afford, a conception which carried with it more of tranquillity than of despair.
Starving would prove my ultimate fate; of this I was certain. Some, I knew, had gone mad under circumstances such as these, but I felt that this end would not be mine. My disaster was the result of no fault save my own, since unknown to the guide I had separated myself from the regular party of sightseers; and, wandering for over an hour in forbidden avenues of the cave, had found myself unable to retrace the devious windings which I had pursued since forsaking my companions.

Already my torch had begun to expire; soon I would be enveloped by the total and almost palpable blackness of the bowels of the earth. As I stood in the waning, unsteady light, I idly wondered over the exact circumstances of my coming end. I remembered the accounts which I had heard of the colony of consumptives, who, taking their residence in this gigantic grotto to find health from the apparently salubrious air of the underground world, with its steady, uniform temperature, pure air, and peaceful quiet, had found, instead, death in strange and ghastly form. I had seen the sad remains of their ill-made cottages as I passed them by with the party, and had wondered what unnatural influence a long sojourn in this immense and silent cavern would exert upon one as healthy and vigorous as I. Now, I grimly told myself, my opportunity for settling this point had arrived, provided that want of food should not bring me too speedy a departure from this life.

As the last fitful rays of my torch faded into obscurity, I resolved to leave no stone unturned, no possible means of escape neglected; so, summoning all the powers possessed by my lungs, I set up a series of loud shoutings, in the vain hope of attracting the attention of the guide by my clamour. Yet, as I called, I believed in my heart that my cries were to no purpose, and that my voice, magnified and reflected by the numberless ramparts of the black maze about me, fell upon no ears save my own.

All at once, however, my attention was fixed with a start as I fancied that I heard the sound of soft approaching steps on the rocky floor of the cavern.

Was my deliverance about to be accomplished so soon? Had, then, all my horrible apprehensions been for naught, and was the guide, having marked my unwarranted absence from the party, following my course and seeking me out in this limestone labyrinth? Whilst these joyful queries arose in my brain, I was on the point of renewing my cries, in order that my discovery might come the sooner, when in an instant my delight was turned to horror as I listened; for my ever acute ear, now sharpened in even greater degree by the complete silence of the cave, bore to my benumbed understanding the unexpected and dreadful knowledge that these footfalls were not like those of any mortal man. In the unearthly stillness of this subterranean region, the tread of the booted guide would have sounded like a series of sharp and incisive blows. These impacts were soft, and stealthy, as of the paws of some feline. Besides, when I listened carefully, I seemed to trace the falls of four instead of two feet.

I was now convinced that I had by my own cries aroused and attracted some wild beast, perhaps a mountain lion which had accidentally strayed within the cave. Perhaps, I considered, the Almighty had chosen for me a swifter and more merciful death than that of hunger; yet the instinct of self-preservation, never wholly dormant, was stirred in my breast, and though escape from the on-coming peril might but spare me for a sterner and more lingering end, I determined nevertheless to part with my life at as high a price as I could command. Strange as it may seem, my mind conceived of no intent on the part of the visitor save that of hostility. Accordingly, I became very quiet, in the hope that the unknown beast would, in the absence of a guiding sound, lose its direction as had I, and thus pass me by. But this hope was not destined for realisation, for the strange footfalls steadily advanced, the animal evidently having obtained my scent, which in an atmosphere so absolutely free from all distracting influences as is that of the cave, could doubtless be followed at great distance.

Seeing therefore that I must be armed for defense against an uncanny and unseen attack in the dark, I groped about me the largest of the fragments of rock which were strewn upon all parts of the floor of the cavern in the vicinity, and grasping one in each hand for immediate use, awaited with resignation the inevitable result. Meanwhile the hideous pattering of the paws drew near. Certainly, the conduct of the creature was exceedingly strange. Most of the time, the tread seemed to be that of a quadruped, walking with a singular lack of unison betwixt hind and fore feet, yet at brief and infrequent intervals I fancied that but two feet were engaged in the process of locomotion. I wondered what species of animal was to confront me; it must, I thought, be some unfortunate beast who had paid for its curiosity to investigate one of the entrances of the fearful grotto with a life-long confinement in its interminable recesses. It doubtless obtained as food the eyeless fish, bats and rats of the cave, as well as some of the ordinary fish that are wafted in at every freshet of Green River, which communicates in some occult manner with the waters of the cave. I occupied my terrible vigil with grotesque conjectures of what alteration cave life might have wrought in the physical structure of the beast, remembering the awful appearances ascribed by local tradition to the consumptives who had died after long residence in the cave. Then I remembered with a start that, even should I succeed in felling my antagonist, I should never behold its form, as my torch had long since been extinct, and I was entirely unprovided with matches. The tension on my brain now became frightful. My disordered fancy conjured up hideous and fearsome shapes from the sinister darkness that surrounded me, and that actually seemed to press upon my body. Nearer, nearer, the dreadful footfalls approached. It seemed that I must give vent to a piercing scream, yet had I been sufficiently irresolute to attempt such a thing, my voice could scarce have responded. I was petrified, rooted to the spot. I doubted if my right arm would allow me to hurl its missile at the oncoming thing when the crucial moment should arrive. Now the steady pat, pat, of the steps was close at hand; now very close. I could hear the laboured breathing of the animal, and terror-struck as I was, I realised that it must have come from a considerable distance, and was correspondingly fatigued. Suddenly the spell broke. My right hand, guided by my ever trustworthy sense of hearing, threw with full force the sharp-angled bit of limestone which it contained, toward that point in the darkness from which emanated the breathing and pattering, and, wonderful to relate, it nearly reached its goal, for I heard the thing jump, landing at a distance away, where it seemed to pause.

Having readjusted my aim, I discharged my second missile, this time most effectively, for with a flood of joy I listened as the creature fell in what sounded like a complete collapse and evidently remained prone and unmoving. Almost overpowered by the great relief which rushed over me, I reeled back against the wall. The breathing continued, in heavy, gasping inhalations and expirations, whence I realised that I had no more than wounded the creature. And now all desire to examine the thing ceased. At last something allied to groundless, superstitious fear had entered my brain, and I did not approach the body, nor did I continue to cast stones at it in order to complete the extinction of its life. Instead, I ran at full speed in what was, as nearly as I could estimate in my frenzied condition, the direction from which I had come. Suddenly I heard a sound or rather, a regular succession of sounds. In another Instant they had resolved themselves into a series of sharp, metallic clicks. This time there was no doubt. It was the guide. And then I shouted, yelled, screamed, even shrieked with joy as I beheld in the vaulted arches above the faint and glimmering effulgence which I knew to be the reflected light of an approaching torch. I ran to meet the flare, and before I could completely understand what had occurred, was lying upon the ground at the feet of the guide, embracing his boots and gibbering. despite my boasted reserve, in a most meaningless and idiotic manner, pouring out my terrible story, and at the same time overwhelming my auditor with protestations of gratitude. At length, I awoke to something like my normal consciousness. The guide had noted my absence upon the arrival of the party at the entrance of the cave, and had, from his own intuitive sense of direction, proceeded to make a thorough canvass of by-passages just ahead of where he had last spoken to me, locating my whereabouts after a quest of about four hours.

By the time he had related this to me, I, emboldened by his torch and his company, began to reflect upon the strange beast which I had wounded but a short distance back in the darkness, and suggested that we ascertain, by the flashlight's aid, what manner of creature was my victim. Accordingly I retraced my steps, this time with a courage born of companionship, to the scene of my terrible experience. Soon we descried a white object upon the floor, an object whiter even than the gleaming limestone itself. Cautiously advancing, we gave vent to a simultaneous ejaculation of wonderment, for of all the unnatural monsters either of us had in our lifetimes beheld, this was in surpassing degree the strangest. It appeared to be an anthropoid ape of large proportions, escaped, perhaps, from some itinerant menagerie. Its hair was snow-white, a thing due no doubt to the bleaching action of a long existence within the inky confines of the cave, but it was also surprisingly thin, being indeed largely absent save on the head, where it was of such length and abundance that it fell over the shoulders in considerable profusion. The face was turned away from us, as the creature lay almost directly upon it. The inclination of the limbs was very singular, explaining, however, the alternation in their use which I bad before noted, whereby the beast used sometimes all four, and on other occasions but two for its progress. From the tips of the fingers or toes, long rat-like claws extended. The hands or feet were not prehensile, a fact that I ascribed to that long residence in the cave which, as I before mentioned, seemed evident from the all-pervading and almost unearthly whiteness so characteristic of the whole anatomy. No tail seemed to be present.

The respiration had now grown very feeble, and the guide had drawn his pistol with the evident intent of despatching the creature, when a sudden sound emitted by the latter caused the weapon to fall unused. The sound was of a nature difficult to describe. It was not like the normal note of any known species of simian, and I wonder if this unnatural quality were not the result of a long continued and complete silence, broken by the sensations produced by the advent of the light, a thing which the beast could not have seen since its first entrance into the cave. The sound, which I might feebly attempt to classify as a kind of deep-tone chattering, was faintly continued.

All at once a fleeting spasm of energy seemed to pass through the frame of the beast. The paws went through a convulsive motion, and the limbs contracted. With a jerk, the white body rolled over so that its face was turned in our direction. For a moment I was so struck with horror at the eyes thus revealed that I noted nothing else. They were black, those eyes, deep jetty black, in hideous contrast to the snow-white hair and flesh. Like those of other cave denizens, they were deeply sunken in their orbits, and were entirely destitute of iris. As I looked more closely, I saw that they were set in a face less prognathous than that of the average ape, and infinitely less hairy. The nose was quite distinct. As we gazed upon the uncanny sight presented to our vision, the thick lips opened, and several sounds issued from them, after which the thing relaxed in death.

The guide clutched my coat sleeve and trembled so violently that the light shook fitfully, casting weird moving shadows on the walls.

I made no motion, but stood rigidly still, my horrified eyes fixed upon the floor ahead.

The fear left, and wonder, awe, compassion, and reverence succeeded in its place, for the sounds uttered by the stricken figure that lay stretched out on the limestone had told us the awesome truth. The creature I had killed, the strange beast of the unfathomed cave, was, or had at one time been a MAN!!!



The stories of H.P. Lovecraft are in the public domain.