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.