A DOOR TO THE UNKNOWN
A door sits in Oasis, Florida.
It waits to be opened.
Step over the threshold.
You may step into a dream
of floating stars and planets,
or into your worst nightmare
of demons and the walking dead.
Be careful where you step.
THE DEAD GAME SERIES
Hello, it’s just me.
Sitting in the dark.
I’m fun as can be.
A day at the park.
I’m here when you sleep.
Your worst nightmare.
Can you see its legs
Climbing your hair?
Can you feel it?
It is black and furry.
Don’t go back to sleep
Or you’ll see blurry.
Did it bite your neck?
I can see the mark.
Just a little peck.
The room goes dark.
Someone watches me from the water.
A head bobs in the shallow waves.
Yellow eyes sparkle in the sunlight.
A man rises from the waves.
A man in a wet suit.
The yellow spots must have been
a reflection from the sun.
Ouch.
I’m shot.
He shot me with a spear gun.
Too late.
I’m falling.
Will I wake to find
it had been a bad dream?
I hope so.
Daniel Merriam
I open my eyes to strange creatures.
Why are they in my bedroom?
Their thrill laughter makes my skin crawl.
They wave knives at me.
I need to escape.
I can’t.
I’m tied to my bed.
They move closer.
I close my eyes.
Silence fills the room.
I slit my eyes open.
The room is now empty.
I glance at my chair in the corner.
A red balloon is tied to it.
Oh no.
Oh, Ouija Board,
will you bring me spirits?
Spirits of the light.
Ones of the damned.
I feel their presence.
Sighs in the night.
Cold breath on my face.
Icy fingers at my neck.
Squeezing.
Too tight.
Much too tight…
The sky fades to black.
The Dead have come back.
The moon turns its head from me
as the soft ground swallows me.
The dark surrounds me.
Long arms grab at me.
The end might be near,
but I’m without fear.
Wolf is here for me.
He won’t set me free.
I’ll become one with the night.
I won’t go down without a fight.
PREY FOR THE DEAD 
I’m lost at a carnival.
A clown leers.
The knife-thrower aims his knife.
I run into a tent of mirrors.
My distorted reflection surrounds me.
I flee into the darkness
and crash through a mirror.
I stand in a dark room
as the floor spins.
I grab for the walls.
My hands slide on the wet stones.
The floor gives way.
I’m falling.
THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist
