Sinister Countdown- Yew Wood

They speak so soft of the Yew Wood,

Where one can find lost solace.

Beyond a low wall of tended stone,

They stand to witness our sorrow.

Frames so bent beneath their load,

They kiss you with their rain.

Washing away your deepest hurts,

And witnessing your soul bear all.

Upon their roots rests hallowed ground,

That was until this end.

My life’s blood sleeps out upon this place,

Darkening the Yews’ collective mind.

For darkened hands have bled me dry,

To further their horrific plan.

So read me my rites and entrails this bare,

To break these forever bonds.

Between this low wall and tended Yew,

Our battle has yet to be won.

Darkness rises upon twilight’s tide,

And soon my light will vanish with the rest.

Our only hope: three youthful forms with iron bare,

And the Greenwitch no more than a girl yet grown.

To the Yew Wood you call,

But I have already gone.


This is the Sinister Countdown. If you liked this descent into maddness be sure to like and follow this month’s macabre passage. These stories, words, and poems come from the darker recesses of the mind behind the InkOwl. If you’d like to read past Sinister Countdown posts, follow the link below.

Past Sinister Countdowns

Sinister Countdown- Silent One

Call upon the rending teeth,

Curved as sickled scythe sweet.

With twisting claw and gnawing bite,

Halt the coming dawns’ first light.

Upon this hour we witches sing,

To raise sinew round bones again.

Hunt our quarry once upon this our,

And feast upon fears so sour.

With a moon of blood newly risen,

Set in motion our darkest vision.

Walk upon the earth once more,

As silent as our forgotten lore.

-M.E. InkOwl


This is the Sinister Countdown. If you liked this descent into maddness be sure to like and follow this month’s macabre passage. These stories, words, and poems come from the darker recesses of the mind behind the InkOwl. If you’d like to read past Sinister Countdown posts, follow the link below.

Past Sinister Countdowns

Sinister Countdown- A Moot

“This isn’t happening,” Sam said in disbelief, “it’s impossible!”

“Shut up, Sam- someone shut him up.” Andrew his as he turned to look back down the path.

“Did you see it too?” said the third member of their party as the four men crouched in the underbrush. Chris brush his long brown hair out of eyes and held the binoculars back up to his eyes.

“I thought it was just a moose,” croaked Sam. Hank clapped a hand around Sam’s mouth, preventing his friends’ hysterics from rising.

“Sam, pull yourself together,” whispered Hank, his dark eyes flashing with terror and excitement, “this is what we’ve been waiting for! We’ve found it, we found Him!

“Will you both shut up?” hissed Andrew now pulling out his own binoculars and tracking along side Chris.

“Damn, I’ve lost Him.” Muttered Chris. Pulling the binoculars away from his narrow face to reveal startlingly green eyes.

“Already?” Hank said, sidestepping a small bush and kneeling down next to his two friends.

They were at the crest of a ridge, running between two peaks. The four of them, best friends since the third grade, had long since left the trail. Below them a wide canyon opened between them and the next small mountain ridge. The pace was filled with thick bushes and tall pines all aflame with the setting sun.

Hank, Chris, Andrew, and Sam all had traveled to the exact place throughout the years.

Obviously after experiencing their one sighting as teens the four could never really give up on seeing it, Him again.

And there they were, losing Him in the underbrush.

“Wait,” Chris paused binoculars glinting in the sunlight, “There’s definitely something moving down there.”

“Is it the one we saw?” Sam said, kneeling down as if he were upon a bomb.

Chris didn’t bother looking back, “I thought it was our one, but it’s lagging behind where the first one was.”

Andrew’s eyebrows knit together, “what do you mean?”

” I mean, this one isn’t as far away as our location, and it’s traveling slower.”

Sure enough, as all four puke four their binoculars they too found themselves looking at another distinctly different line of movement.

“We’ve got two?” Sam said, trying to show his calm.

“Yes and now they’re taking different paths,” scowled Hank hiss annoyance getting the better if him.

He was going to add another comment when Chris called our softly, “there’s more.”

All four stopped moving, silence flooding the now vacated silence.

“Four, five, nine- there’s so many more.” Hank said in awe.

“Like fifty?” Hissed Sam as spit flew from his already twisting mouth.

About the wind shifted, sweeping across the canyon pushing air up the side and bring with it the smell of unwashed, hairy bodies.

Suddenly Chris ducked back under the edge, his eyes wide and wild.

“We need to hid,” he said, looking around at the brush before hind, “they just shifted, we need to go.”

“What do you mean?” Andrew said thickly, “how are we suppose to study Them if we don’t observe-”

“You don’t understand, ” Chris they’re going to be walking over us, who knows what they’d do.

Below the ridge rustling was wafting you. Branches whispering around while rocks and dirt where the four friends were now scrambling to find cover in.

Each grown man threw himself into a bush, burrowing down like prey. The smell grew more intense and it felt like they were suddenly in a void, no sound existed.

Except for what was coming up beyond the ridge. Fumes of rot and I cleaned coats of fur rose into the air permeating everything.

Someone dry heaved but no one else moved.

Sam flinched as a snake slithered without a sound by his head.

That was when the first hairy and very inhuman foot came down between Hank and Sam.

All around them bushes, branches, and pines raised their voices as creatures moved relentlessly onward.

All four men laid or squatted immobile from their spots, unbelieving.

And then silence.

When it sounded like they were alone, Hank extricated from his bush saying, “we’re going to be so famous.”

“Or even more insane,” Andrew said with a rueful smile.

Sam finally untangled himself and sniffed, “what do we do now?”

Chris gave Sam a wink and smiled.

“We, my good friend, follow.”

-M.E. InkOwl


This is the Sinister Countdown. If you liked this descent into maddness be sure to like and follow this month’s macabre passage. These stories, words, and poems come from the darker recesses of the mind behind the InkOwl. If you’d like to read past Sinister Countdown posts, follow the link below.

Past Sinister Countdowns

Sinister Countdown- Burning Secret


Up these steps and to the door,

Twist the chain and wash the floor.

Listen for the coming grumble,

From the lies that soon will crumble.

Truth that hides in the waiting dark,

Secretly begs for freedom’s lark.

Never will they find the words,

As haunted eyes fill with hope stirred.

Quick as shadow slick as blade,

I must hide ’till start of day.

Never look back beyond the door,

Our secret-keeping low upon the floor.

Never to speak ill again,

We have caught the in your sin.

Now let the burning begin.

-M.E. InkOwl


Sinister Countdown- Waiting

Do you see me hiding here,

In the innocent light of day?

Creeping silent as a shadow,

On a cloud strewn sky.

Never looked for,

Rarely suspected.

But always to be feared.

Soft as whispers,

Quick as razors.

Let me sink into your calm,

And disrupt your daily procedures.

Feel the question,

Tugging at you.

Turning right into a wrong.

Look more closely,

I am near you.

Hissing out a stalkers breath,

Waiting for you to catch a scent.

In the dark space I do wander,

Listen for your nearing steps.

Death waits for no man.

Just, look and wait for me.

M.E. InkOwl


This is the Sinister Countdown. If you liked this descent into maddness be sure to like and follow this month’s macabre passage. These stories, words, and poems come from the darker recesses of the mind behind the InkOwl. If you’d like to read past Sinister Countdown posts, follow the link below.

Past Sinister Countdowns

Sinister Countdown- Chains

Snake these chains round foot and stone,

Steal this form from life and home.

Know the secret thicker than pitch,

Ignite the truth with ridged stitch.

Close both eyes and whispering mouth,

Follow geese lines to the wandering south.

Beneath twisting claws and digging root,

Burry this pleading, lying brute.

 

Now face the East, North, and West,

For all twenty-six victims may rest.

Smile down at the fresh churned earth,

Killing a killer is what it’s worth.

-M.E. InkOwl


This is the Sinister Countdown. If you liked this descent into maddness be sure to like and follow this month’s macabre passage. These stories, words, and poems come from the darker recesses of the mind behind the InkOwl. If you’d like to read past Sinister Countdown posts, follow the link below.

Past Sinister Countdowns

Sinister Countdown- Raven’s Boone

I spy a raven bare,

With wings of thunderhead black.

Upon a road of solid bone,

A dragon lays its treasure rare.

Move past the scale and fire bright,

Into the darkest parts of night.

Breathe into our bodies long rotten,

A life and curse long forgotten.

-M.E. InkOwl

 


This is the Sinister Countdown. If you liked this descent into maddness be sure to like and follow this month’s macabre passage. These stories, words, and poems come from the darker recesses of the mind behind the InkOwl. If you’d like to read past Sinister Countdown posts, follow the link below.

Past Sinister Countdowns

Sinister Countdown- Witch’s Curse

meat torn from breathing flesh,

ripens this death unexpected

smell the dark blood flow,

a beast most wicked awakens now,

to scream upon a rising moon

flee this scene with symbols written,

and forget the safety of daylight

night has fallen upon you,

with marked sinew and claws reaching so long

farewell one who has wronged me,

you’ll forever remember this final mistake

i was the dam holding back the tide,

now pours in your bowling room

-M.E. InkOwl


This is the Sinister Countdown. If you liked this descent into maddness be sure to like and follow this month’s macabre passage. These stories, words, and poems come from the darker recesses of the mind behind the InkOwl. If you’d like to read past Sinister Countdown posts, follow the link below.

2017

Sinister Countdown- Knowledge

Hiss upon a night quite eerie,

When the sun has set far into the west.

Call upon the dust of ages,

And forget the woes of yester-year.

Beyond your bone lies a deadly secret,

One that preys upon our growing weakness.

If only we’d known better,

Maybe we would have listened more.

We were so wrong, so wrong,

They now chant closing each lid to their tombs.

What fire and rock could not hide with heat,

Now eats away at our mortal minds.

Now dine upon our failing corpses,

As we divine our right to rule.

Let extinction forge our power,

Drive humanity to their doom.

-M.E. InkOwl


 This is the Sinister Countdown. If you liked this descent into maddness be sure to like and follow this month’s macabre passage. These stories, words, and poems come from the darker recesses of the mind behind the InkOwl. If you’d like to read past Sinister Countdown posts, follow the link below.

2017

Sinister Countdown- October Skies

Hint to me your treasures dear,

Upon this October sky.

When light bends through a darkening lens,

Only the soothsayer may divine.

Grasp this thread and hold it tight,

As the sun dips low beneath the world.

And watch as fire and water so deep,

Part before us now revealing a doorway beyond.

We walk a path from green to gold,

And change with our world as it turns.

-M.E. InkOwl


This is the Sinister Countdown. If you liked this descent into maddness be sure to like and follow this month’s macabre passage. These stories, words, and poems come from the darker recesses of the mind behind the InkOwl. If you’d like to read past Sinister Countdown posts, follow the link below.

2017