Sascha Schneider (German, 1870–1927), Eichenwald auf Ruegen (Oak Forest on Ruegen Island), 1925
The forest grows dark.
It comes alive.
Wood arms reach for me.
Roots uncurl from the ground.
Trees shake and dance.
As the wind moans.
Dark shadows follow me.
Moonlight teases me.
I’m trapped in hell,
where the sun doesn’t shine.
THE DEAD GAME SERIES
I see men
Walking
In the cold
Coming closer to my home.
Snow swirls around them.
Feet crunch on ice.
Four of them.
Why are they here?
Four men.
The window mists from my breath.
It fogs my view.
I must run.
I must hide.
Four men.
A shadow appears.
Dark as the night.
Moving closer.
Encompassing all.
An opening hole.
Of death and despair.
The grass trembles.
Flattened by its footsteps.
Beneath its terrible burden.
But it’s too late.
It’s here.
But I’m not.
Dark skies above.
Dark trails below.
No wildlife.
No birds or insects.
Only dense grass.
To mark the spot
Where End House had stood.
Its evil glory washed out to sea.
To be replaced by a green carpet
Of emptiness and darkness.
A marker for The Dead.
From the dungeons they’ll rise
And walk the earth once again.
THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist
The road to End House is dark.
It winds through a thick forest.
What will we find there?
The invitation promises fun and games.
Will there be a party for us in the deserted house?
A surprise party?
Who are we kidding?
Of course, there won’t be a party or people.
There might be some dead bodies.
The house has a long and morbid history.
Let’s go and find out.
We must be all crazy.
But here we go!
THE DEAD GAME
Kindle
Nook
The nightmare of my mind,
Crammed with trees and dirt.
A deserted forest of the night;
No visitors or intruders.
Graves mark the spots
Where life once stood.
Replaced by shadows,
Drifting in time and space.
A space pitch black,
Deep in the recesses of my mind.
No way to escape it
For it follows me everywhere.
