Maybe you can judge a book by its cover... A Dark Dreamscapes Entry |
The Devil’s Own A sudden sound sent a chill up my spine; Pages turned slowly by fingers of wind, apparition like, as the rain kept time with the ticking clock. I sat back, chagrined. The tome was unfamiliar, laying on the desk. “The Devil’s Own” – curiosity led me to look. Filled with arcane symbols, illustrations were grotesque, it was readily apparent this was more than a book. Pulling on my glasses, I peered into its heart. The ancient text was gibberish, well beyond me. Yet, somehow, its contents began to impart its dark secrets in my mind directly. I saw visions of torture, blood used ritually, twisting the normal for nefarious ends. I felt in my soul these were used habitually to call upon darkness, over goodness transcend. The power it showed me was almost narcotic sweeping me up in the possibilities. The images, gruesome, were also hypnotic with promises of unique capabilities. The wind grew fitful and the window slammed breaking the spell and my reverie. Had I continued perhaps I’d be damned but when I looked back there was nothing to see. Had it all been a dream? An apparition? The table was bare and nothing remained. I now clearly see it as an admonition – Don’t turn to the darkness or you will be stained. An entry for Octoberfest, Round 2, "Invalid Item" Prompt: Image Form: Quatrain Line Count: 28 |