THE DEAD GAME — The Journey into Hell and Beyond

Face to face.
Eye to eye.
A growl.
A  whimper.

The whimper belongs to me.
I’m David,
One of the invited to the party
at the deserted End House.

Too many obstacles.
Too many ways to die.
Circular saws and sharp cages.
Wild animals stalking their prey.

We must find a way out.
Tom and Edward had fled through a doorway
And vanished for good.
Half our group is exploring upstairs.

My group is trapped in the basement,
Which is filling rapidly with water.
Three closed doors wait for us.
I can hear the animals behind door #3.

Whom to trust?
Who are my friends?
Are some of them my enemies?
I must be careful.

Louise is trembling with fear.
Mike is determined to find a way out.
He doesn’t care about Louise
Or anyone else.

The dark room of animals is small and creepy.
Tigers are leaving their cages.
There’s the door knob.
It’s moving.

Maybe someone is trying to save us.
“Hey guys, I’m checking out the door.”
It’s stuck and the door is too heavy.
“Come on and help me open it.”

Between the three of us,
We finally open the door.
Time to escape.

A long and slippery staircase
Down to the beach and rocks.
Creatures are flying at us,
Trying to knock us into the ocean.

What could possibly happen next?



Our imagination entices us.
It takes us to new places.
With our eyes closed,
We could explore the world.

Oceans to be crossed.
Far away places visited.
Mountains climbed.
Passions enjoyed.

A closed door stands before me,
Hiding its own secrets.
I will cross its threshold
With eyes wide open.

The door opens to flowers and sunshine.
Lounge chairs on the hot sand.
The sun shining on the ocean,
Revealing palettes of blues and greens.

A perfect paradise waits for me.
A bathing suit lies across a chair.
Time for a swim and a tan.
A beautiful escape.


THE DEAD GAME — The Battle for Oasis

Let the darkness lull me to sleep,
With dreams of red sunsets.
Clouds drifting on cotton balls,
Encircling me with their softness.

Let the moon’s face shine on me,

Making me feel safe and secure.      
The stars twinkle in merriment,
Ready to tackle the night.

The day brings a new enemy

To our peaceful shore.
A dark kingdom will rise up,
A new kingdom for The Dead.

All memory of our town will be wiped out

With a mere swipe of their hands.
Rain and hail will flood the streets.
Fire will take down our church.
A hooded figure approaches me,
His gait slow and sure.
He slowly pulls back his hood
To reveal the creature beneath.
“My dear Linda, you have waited for me. 
I will have my ice queen at my side.” 
Wolf quickens his stride to reach me,
But I turn my face away.

I peek through my eyelashes

At his beautiful face.
He abruptly turns around

To summon his army.
Over his shoulder he whispers,
“I’m so sorry you will
fall in battle like the others.
Goodbye dearest one.”

He leaves with his followers. 

I am free at last.
I now feel lost
And abandoned.
Did I want him to fight for me?
Of course not.
I would never join The Dead.
But still…   

THE DEAD GAME          


The moon hides behind the house,
Too fearful to show its shiny face.
For the deserted house on the hill
Rules the nest and detests intruders.

We come in the night to save our friends
From the evil alive within.
We come armed and ready for battle
To free the ones lost in its tunnels.
A house with its own identity,
With The Dead living in its walls.
A house able to defend itself
From all strangers at its door.
I can hear the whispers and sighs
Coming from deep with its bowels.
I can see faces at its windows,
Elongated with hollow eyes.
We must return to the dark basement,
To the place of traps and swinging saws.
We must fight the evil hiding within,
Behind the three closed doors.
Gargoyles and grabbing arms
Block our way through the dark hallways.
A deep pool of water pulls us down,
Making us swim through the basement floor.
This time we will win the fight.
This time The Dead will yield.
This time we will leave with our friends.
This time the night won’t rule the day.


I’m falling down a dark hole,  
Beneath the spot where End House had once stood.
I’ve reached the bottom of the rabbit hole.
Pea soup darkness envelopes me.

Shadowy forms are swaying in the distance.  
With the tunnel’s wall at my back,
I walk toward the strange objects.  
They look like lamps with brightly lit shades.

They aren’t lamps but tall mushrooms.  
Mushrooms in a variety of shapes and colors.  
A whole field of them,  
Sparkling far into the distance.

I could just imagine what Alice had felt  
About her Wonderland.  
Mine is too dark for my taste.  
But I must find the truth.

The mushrooms loom around me,  
Facing me with their iridescent spots and stripes.
A town lies up ahead,  
Pale lights flickering in the windows.

The town looks oddly familiar.  
The church is quaint and so are the stores.  
It’s my town, the town of Oasis.  
An underground town built to resemble the real town.

The stores are empty.  
The streets are deserted.  
Night is here without its blanket of stars
Or the protection of the moon.

I’ve found the beach but its sand is ice cold.  
The ocean is even colder.
No birds.  
No sea breeze.

He’s here.  
I knew he would be.  
“Linda, Welcome to my Oasis.  
Have you decided to join us?”

I step back.  
“No Wolf, I will never join you.  
Please let me go.
I don’t belong here with The Dead.”

His lips tighten as he moves closer.
He is not going to let me go.  
I’m his prisoner.

Wolf watches my face.  
He sees my fear and my defeat.  
A small smile forms on his lips.
“My dear, our games have just begun.”



Has End House returned to Oasis?

Our chanting had cast it to sea.
It can’t be back.
We can’t be under attack.


Silence fills the forest.

A cold breeze tickles my arms.

I follow the path through

a thick copse of trees.


The sky darkens.

A shadow looms in the distance.

I enter the clearing.

Seagulls cry and swoop low.


I halt by a deep hole.

The spot where End House had stood.

A hard shove

And I’m falling.


Laughter follows my descent.

I hit rock bottom. 

A tunnel stretches before me.

Light at its end.





Why I Write What I Write #17: Susanne Leist #WriteBitches

Susanne Leist is a fellow Brooklynite I bumped into after teaming with a bunch of authors for an epic Halloween book party we have planned. Luckily she’s nice enough to allow me to drag her way down deep to my neck of the woods and share with us why she writes what she writes.

♥ ♥ ♥


To be or not to be a writer.
This has been the hardest question for me.
Should I continue with my pursuit?
Or step away and claim defeat?
One book written.
One book sold.
It dances around on Amazon and Nook.
It reaches new heights in its niche
And then it slowly bows its head in silence.
The highs feel good and lofty,
While the lows feel depressing and sad.
Is it worth it?
Is it worth the aggravation?
I am told that a writer must keep writing.
More books to dance around.
More highs and lows.
Should I keep doing this?
Will I keep doing this?
Yes, for now
As I wait for the next high. 


I have always loved to read books. My goal has been to write a book different than any other book that I’ve read. And I believe I have accomplished this. The Dead Game has dead bodies and suspects like a traditional murder mystery. However, it also has humans, vampires, and vampire derivatives. It has plenty of romance and thrills. And don’t forget the haunted house–we must have one of these.




Take me away from a world without color,
A world where life is dull and grey.
I want to swim through the ocean’s waves,
Where rainbows can frolic and play.

The sun’s rays shimmer off the water,
Leaving trails of gold, yellow, and red.
Beacons of light for me to follow,
To a new land where to lay my head.

I fly through the rolling waves,
Touching down on a spot of land.
I am lifted by arms of fountains
And laid to rest on the pink sand.

Turtles scurry away from my hand.  
Birds fly around as they have fun.
The waves recede in their farewell dance,
Leaving me alone in the sun.

Who lives on this small island?
It’s time for me to explore.
A hut of branches in a tree.
I must see if there is more. 

The steps are pretty steep,
I climb and step inside.
The room is small and dark.
Who knows what it may hide?

I hear footsteps from the room beyond.
They’re coming closer to where I hide.
It’s too late to run for the door,
I must face whoever is inside.

Todd saunters into the room.
Candles and two places set.
He throws me a big grin,
As if I am his prized pet.

We both wait in silence.
Todd slowly moves toward me.
“I hope you like my surprise.”
I feel as cold as can be. 

I don’t like surprises.
Especially from him.
He keeps me at arms length,
Not letting me in.

I lower my eyes
From the fire in his eyes.
They’re consuming me alive,
I’m burning up from his lies.

Todd makes an abrupt movement.
He strides across the room.
He kisses me with great passion
Under the blood red moon.



Please wash away my sorrow and pain.
Let it flow down the streets with the rain.
Dissolved in torrents of despair and sadness,
Joining others on its way past the madness.

The ocean may take it far away,
To places we cannot even say.
Where no one recognizes its sting
Or knows the infliction it can bring.

Let the rain grow harder with its might,
Becoming hail on this fateful night.
I want to be free of all traces
Of unwanted feelings and faces.

My body grows cold from the rain.
It stands clean and free from the pain.
Shivers create a path down my spine,
As I wait in the dark woods of pine.

I hold my head high to the wet spray.
It becomes a mist of blue and grey.
The faucet has turned off for the night,
Leaving me feeling clean and so right.