The woods can be much too dark,
more than a walk in the park.
They can hold secrets so deep
you can see them in your sleep.
The trees can hide the bright sunlight
with shadows lurking in the night.
I wander between the trees,
someone find me, pretty please.
I will make a bed on the forest floor.
I hope nothing knocks at my woodsy door.
Dark surrounds me like a spoon.
I’m soon wrapped in its cocoon.
I walk with the living at day.
They do not hear I word I say.
They assume I’m alive like them,
But I’m stronger than any men.
I run through the trees,
Flying faster than bees.
At day, my true self hides away.
People believe I might be fey.
At night, I walk with others.
Closer to me than brothers.
“Who are you?” you might timidly ask.
Be careful, I’ll take you to the task.
THE DEAD GAME SERIES
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
Let’s travel through the forest so green.
A creature-filled oasis but don’t scream.
The roots tangle around our feet.
Walking becomes a scary feat.
Neon leaves hit our faces.
A hit every few paces.
I’m sinking deep into the forest floor.
Quicksand my enemy forever more.
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.
THE DEAD GAME CONTINUES
PRELUDE TO BOOK II
The forest torments me to no end.
I don’t want this to be a dead end.
Hot breath breathes close to my ear
as I make my way from here.
The woods are known to be haunted.
With dark whispers, I’ve been taunted.
I’ve passed this tree before.
I can’t run anymore.
The shadows are closing in.
The forest is dark as sin.
I must say goodbye to one and all.
It’s time to follow the bouncing ball.
The script has been written.
My neck has been bitten.
I bid you adieu.
A vampire, to you.
THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist
It comes with the sea
Following me to shore
Through the undead woods
And under the door.
A life of its own
Living in the house
In this coastal town
Alive from within.
Filled with dead bodies
And untold deadly sin.
THE DEAD GAME
