The growling follows us outside
Down the rickety stairs to the beach.
Laughter mixes in the howling wind,
Hot breath swirling around our necks.
Shadows fly at us on gossamer wings,
Tracking out halting journey downward.
Darkness hides the beach below,
Sandy cushions awaiting our final fall.
I fly with the wind to land on pillows,
Shaking their pixie dust into my eyes.
I leave Mike and David on the stairs
As I race down the deserted walkway.
Moans mix with the laughing wind
As prayers for help fill my troubled mind.
Hope finally triumphs over despair,
Pushing me forward to my journey’s end.
A shove has me thrown into the park,
Where a noose waits for my neck.
Hooded creatures circle the gazebo,
An appropriate place for my last stand.
Our games have just begun.
THE DEAD GAME