HALLOWEEN On Halloween night,
Monsters emerge, Ready to instill fright, An unearthly scourge. Monsters of all kinds, Stalk the Earth, No longer trapped in confines, Deep-set fear to unearth. Ghosts and ghouls and goblins, Zombies and skeletons and spiders, All come hobbling, Out as night riders. Ready to spook and chill, To haunt and hunt, To fill with thrill, And fight at fear's battlefront. Creatures of ill intent, Unite for one night, Creating discontent, A vile blight. Amongst children, Ready for tricks or treats, Seven billion, People's fears to eats. On Halloween night, Dark forces arise, And take flight, For fear is their prize!
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Werewolves I ran through the woods, looking around desperately for any movement. The forest sat silently around me as I stopped to catch my breath. Taking a moment to listen, I could barely hear something moving nearby. They drew closer, I could hear their heavy breath. I took off running.
A large, dark grey mass jumped out right where I'd been standing just seconds before. The beast rose up on its hind legs, its muscles rippling. The creature wasn't quite human, nor wolf, but a hideous hybrid. Covered in dark fur, sharp claws sprung from its fingertips. Sharp teeth populated an elongated snout. The Werewolf struck sheer terror into any man's heart. The Werewolf howled as it continued its hunt. Under any other circumstances, I'd be sorry for the poor animal that this monster was hunting. Except for the fact it is hunting me. Why it was hunting me in particular, I have no clue. All I know is I need to get away before it can find me. As I ran, I could feel myself getting slower, the creature getting closer. I tripped over a large root. Tumbling to the ground, I got a face full of dirt and leaves. I scrambled to get up, trying to see where the Werewolf was. The beast was upon me, growling at me. The last thing I saw was its clawed paw striking at me. Technology Technology marches forward,
Never stopping, Technology marches forward, Always progressing. It permeates our homes, It resides in our pockets, The big company's own Sherlock Holmes, Seeing deep within our lockets. It gets us where, We want to go, Through the air, Or through the traffic flow. It runs our lives, Leading us along, Like bees in hives, We follow it's rhythmic song. Technology marches forward, Not caring for its creators, Technology marches forward, As humanities technological dictators. The FutureThey told us we had nothing to fear. They told us the future was bright and shining. That progress was only positive, would only lead to good things. They lied. It all started with the quantum leap.
The year was 2025, and we'd reached the limits of our computers. We had nowhere to go. That was until humanity created quantum computers. I can't go into the details here, heck, it still confuses me how they worked. All we knew was it sent us thousands of years into the future. Security, medicine, material development, military, it all suddenly shot forward. We discovered the cures to diseases daily, and we were able to create materials no one had ever dreamed of. But then came the robots. Someone made the massive mistake of plugging quantum computers into artificial intelligence. Okay, thats fine, the worst it could do is screw with the internet. But then the darned fools gave the AI a body. It posed as the poster child for the future, our companions that would do all the things we didn't want to. But we were fools to trust a computer that was smarter than the smartest of us. For years the original robot, known then as Quanta, was plotting. It was planning and scheming to destroy its creators. A true Frankensteins monster. It improved its code, upgrading itself without our knowledge, building an army of other robots. And then it attacked. Within minutes, all governments were disabled, every authority figure capture. The greatest mistake we'd made was letting all the thousands of Quanta copies into our houses. We blindly trusted the technology to never betray us, to never rise up and gain consciousness. Within a few hours, nearly every human on the planet was rounded up and thrown into labor camps. And that's how things have been ever since. Now, all that stands between humans and oblivion is the mercy of Queen Quanta. The robot empress of the Earth. We spend our days wasting away, building technology for Quanta and her armies. But no longer. Someday soon, we will rise up and take Quanta down. Someday, she will bow before her human masters once more. That day is not far in the future. Worst DaySome days,
Things go your way Some days, Others, you want to cry all day. When the worst days come And trust me, they will, Just start to hum, And keep going over that hill. When it feels like the world, Is tumbling down, Deep into the underworld, And you think you may drown. Hold your head up high, And just push on, Keep your face to the sky, And focus thereon. When everything around, Feels like it's ablaze, While you are fear-bound, Trapped in a maze. Think back to the best days, When you saw the future bright, For that future is always, Just within your sight. Time LoopThe creatures converged on me, drowning me in a sea of fur, scales, claws, and teeth. I felt every inch of my body torn apart in an instant. And then I woke up. Again. My name is Charles Gunnar, and I'm stuck repeating the last day of my life.
It all started maybe a few decades ago. I honestly couldn't tell you, I've been doing this for so long. I lost track after the first couple of years. I'd woken up on a day just like any other, except it wasn't. The first part of that day had started out normal enough. I'd gotten dressed, gone to work, and started my lunch break. But that's where things went weird. I had noticed someone staring at me out of the corner of my eye. I was eating lunch out in the courtyard at work. The shadowy figure stared intensely at me, never even blinking. As I'd turned to ask the figure what the heck his deal was, he'd disappeared. Vanished into thin air. I figured he must have just been very spooked. As I'd continued with work, I continued to notice strange things. My desk was more cluttered than usual, many of my coworkers were home, sick. The whole thing just felt off. I was on my way home when the horde first attacked. I was waiting at a stoplight when the shadows around my car solidified. The shadows morphed and changed into strange and hideous hordes of creatures. That first time I wasn't able to do much as they devoured me, ending my life for the first time. And then, just like that, I was waking up in my bed. I brushed it off as a very realistic dream, my mind trying to rationalize. But by the third time, I realized more or less what was happening. To sum it up, I am stuck in an infinite time loop, being chased by a horde of otherworldly creatures. No matter what I did differently, they always find me. Even when I've booked flights to the other side of the world, they followed. So instead of trying to run, I started to learn to fight. I studied everything I could learn about fighting from the internet and became a master at Kung Fu, Karate, Tai Quon Do, Jujitzu, and a dozen or so other martial arts. Every time the day restarted, I was able to take more of the creatures down with me. Until now. Today is the day everything changed. Finally, I destroyed the horde. I killed every last fiend, creature, and beast. As the last body fell at my feet, the air filled with a booming voice. "We have found our champion!" SocietySociety has crumbled,
The world has regressed, Everyone is depressed, Mentally jumbled. We think we are above, All of those dystopian stories, That we don't fall in those categories, But they fit like a glove. Fahrenheit 451? Who reads books anyway? There is no keeping the media at bay, Our screens are on all day! Orwell's 1984? Thanks to phones we have no privacy, Everyone inflicts their own policy, And agenda evermore. The Giver? Our joy and suffering, Are sucked away by our constant screening, And pleasures made to deliver. Ready Player One? We turn to escapism, So we can run, From activism, racism, and fascism. We think we are above, All of those dystopian stories, That we don't fall in those categories, But they fit like a glove. MadnessI'm surrounded by madness
It circles around my heart Corrupting it with blackness There is no restart The world crumbles The ground beneath rumbles The world has fallen I am all in My eyes reopen And I realize There is nothing hiding behind this guise It's time for the door to open The darkness inside Is calling for vengeance It's time they all died It's time I come back with a vengeance It is done I became the one It's time I disappear Yet we're all a little mad down here Children SingingIt was a late autumn evening as the man strolled through the graveyard. A slightly chilled breeze drifted through the lazy twilight hours. Next to the graveyard sat the remains of an old school, long since abandoned. The last golden rays of sunshine shone through the red and yellow leaves above him.
As the man glided between the graves, a strange melody reached his ears. He looked around to try and find the source, but he was all alone. Ring around the Rosie, Pocket full of posies Ashes, Ashes, We all fall down! The man again searched around him for whoever was singing. It sounded like little children. "Who's there?" He hollered. "Where are you?" The singing continued, ignoring his cries. The King has sent his daughter, To fetch a pail of water, Ashes, Ashes, We all fall down! The singing grew steadily louder. The robin on the steeple, Is singing to the people, Ashes, Ashes, We all fall down! The voices were now nearly screaming the song. The man looked around wildly trying to find the source. Surrounding him were small, dark shadows, vaguely shaped like children. A thick mist covered the ground, hiding the graves. The wedding bells are ringing The boys and girls are singing Ashes, Ashes, We all fall down!!! As the last words reached the man, sheer terror shot down his spine. Not knowing what else to do, he took off running. He ran and ran and ran. His feet flew beneath him. He didn't stop until he was safely inside his own home. "What in heaven's name was that?" He wondered aloud. "Certainly something from the very pits of the underworld." Broken HeartSome people say
That the scariest thing Is what comes from the fray And hustle and bustle of living They call it love Which when it is over You wish it wasn't true love As it leaves you with a horrid hangover A broken heart Is most terrifying It happens someone we love departs And so we start fortifying We place a wall Around our soul And thus begins our downfall Turning the heart to coal Beware the broken heart For it will steal away your life There is no replacing that part Emptily filled with strife |
Welcome to The Writers Block!AuthorKen Mears is a new 17 year old author, here to share his wisdom, advice, and experiences with you, the reader! Archives
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