HUMAN VAMPIRES

1 H rouge_02_alphabet_h1 V rouge_02_alphabet_v

Human Vampires to pass your days.
Vampires to fill your nights.
💔THE DEAD GAME 💔

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THE PIANO PLAYS

 

 

The house welcomes us.

The piano plays.

The keys dance.

The walls moan.

A long night ahead.

 

THE DEAD GAME 

HEAR THEM ROAR

 

Tigers pace in their cages,

Waiting to be set free.

Animals fill the basement.

An awful sight to see.

 

Leashes jangle against bars.

Metal against metal rings loud.

As the gates slowly lift open,

Pointy teeth glisten without sound.

 

This cannot be happening.

This cannot be so.

No way are there tigers

in the basement below.

 

THE DEAD GAME

END HOUSE AT OASIS

 

 

End House sits alone and deserted.

Shutters torn and hanging.

Furniture upended.

Shattered pictures.

Shattered dreams.

What happened to the family?

 

Open the door.

Walk up the battered staircase.

Past the broken statues.

A sigh follows my hesitant steps.

A wind whistles through the empty rooms.

Dust swirls in mounds on the wood floors.

 

A scream rips through the rooms below.

Has the family returned,

Or am I the next victim?

The sound of footsteps on the stairs.

I must run.

I must hide.

 

They’re back.

 

THE DEAD GAME

 

 

CANDLES ON THE WALLS

 

 

The candles on these walls

throw shadows down the halls.

Shadows that float in the air,

horrors that I cannot bear.

Soft sighs follow in their wake,

my insides begin to quake.

Gargoyles stare at us from above,

I’m thrust forward by a hard shove.

Revolving rooms lead us through a maze.

I follow along, lost in a daze.

I ask, “How do we get out of here?”

My hands covering my face in fear.

Am I standing in a flood?

I look down at all the blood.

It flows from the indoor pool.

As you know I’m not a fool.

I’m out of here as quick as can be.

There’s nothing else I want to see.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

PUFFS OF SMOKE

Puff of smoke moving

areyou-stillawake
Demonic (2015)

Light the dark path.

Through the dense woods.

To the house on the edge.

Where many have gone.

Follow the puffs of smoke.

Through the rocks and brush.

To the end of the trail.

Where many have gone.

THE DEAD GAME

FOOTSTEPS

leirelatent
“Institute Benjamenta” (1995)

 
Has he come for me?

I hear his footsteps.

The leaves stop rustling.

The wind stops blowing.

The silence is overpowering.

A stranglehold on my nerves.

Is he standing outside the door?

Waiting for me to open it.

I won’t.

I won’t let him in.

He wants me.

I refuse to become one of them.

THE DEAD GAME

http://myBook.to/TheDeadGame

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THE EVIL STAIRCASE

 

 

THE EVIL STAIRCASE

No one answers our knock.

The front door drifts open.

I step into the dark hallway.

My friends close behind.

A dark staircase looms above us.

Gargoyles stand guard along its banisters.

Lights flicker from the right hallway.

A cold draft hits our left shoulders.

What should we do?

Read The Dead Game to find out.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

NIGHTMARE

THE NIGHTMARE

Linda was caught in a nightmare that she couldn’t escape from. It felt too real to be a nightmare but she couldn’t wake up.

     She chose the Fun House. She stepped into a room full of mirrors that made her multiple reflections appear distorted and unreal. She couldn’t figure out why she’d run into the Fun House if in every horror movie the victims were always portrayed as being terrorized there. She hoped this wasn’t another game of The Dead. She was determined to locate an exit, but found only mirrors and more mirrors; they made her dizzy. Her distorted reflections stared back at her—as if they were distinct entities, united against her, instead of her own creations.

     She ran until she crashed head-first through a mirror, into a dark place with no beginning or end. The whole experience felt unreal to her—as if she were lost in a different dimension. Behind this mirror, she encountered a man with a white mask and empty holes for eyes, laughing at her. When he touched her arm, she realized that he was real and not just a reflection.

     She fled from the laughing man, going deeper and deeper into the dark unknown. She looked back and noticed creatures following close behind her. Some were bats and some were dark shadows, but all were reaching for her. She hoped that these weren’t the same shadows from town that had been haunting her for weeks.

      She hit something hard and fell down. So maybe this place did have an end. She raced away with her hands out, hoping to find the mirror that had caused her to enter this dark hell. Ahead of her in the distance, she glimpsed a shiny surface. As she got closer, she realized it was the mirror, patiently waiting for her. I hope this wasn’t a trap.

     She decided to step through the mirror and worry about the consequences afterward. She had always been afraid of the dark. She wondered how these creatures knew her fears—unless it wasn’t real, but just a figment of her imagination. She stuck her hand out and found that it flowed right through the glass. She followed her hand and crawled through the mirror.

     She found herself back in the house by the sea. She was in the main hall, looking up at a long flight of stairs. She raced up the stairs and ran through the deserted rooms. The house was empty of any people or furnishings. All she could hear were her heels clicking on the shiny wood floors.

     Fearing that she was caught in an endless loop like the one at End House, she hurried back down the stairs, all the way down to the basement. Since the top two floors were empty, she decided to try the basement—even though basements were also popular in horror stories, which was exactly what she was in.

     The basement was empty. The floor she was standing on began to rotate around and around. She reached up to grab hold of something to help her climb off the revolving circle, but there was nothing: the walls were wet and slippery. As she tried to escape, she found herself falling deeper and deeper into the dark hole. The only thing she remembered before she lost consciousness was the sound of a man’s evil laughter as he chanted the words over and over, “It’s not over. I’ll be back.”

The Dead Game by Susanne Leist

http://outskirtspress.com/thedeadgame