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HORROR TALES SELECTED BY BARABAS AND QUENTIN COLLINS

no imageauthors: Quentin Collins, Barnabas Collins
asin: B000BRPJGW
binding: Paperback

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A soft circle of light separated the darkness from a slight figure curled up in a chair. There in the stillness she sat with a battered black book on her lap, the only sound in the room being the scratch of the pencil she slowly moved across the pages. Were any one else around they might recognize her as Koreena Venusvii Anchalis, a pale young woman with a dark and muddled past, but no one else was around. Koreena sighed quietly to herself, reaching one ivory hand up to push the locks of hair from her face. 'Too many changes, and not all good' came the thought.

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Several weeks had elapsed since the conversation in Reginald Clarke's studio. The spring was now well advanced and had sprinkled the meadows with flowers, and the bookshelves of the reviewers with fiction. The latter Ernest turned to good account, but from the flowers no poem blossomed forth.

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As I lay in the velvet night
He came to me...
He showed me what seduction is
He showed me how to be free


He kissed me softly on the neck
Sent shivers down my spine
And as he let the beast take over
He said, "Now Dear you shall be mine."


He pierced the skin and drank from me
As fear dawned in my eyes
As Pain soon turned to pleasure
The passion dimmed my cries


I woke again with the hunger in me
My heartbeat like a drum
I drank from him and knew the future
I understood at last,

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Clawing at this life, yearning to break free
on the outside looking in, looking at you looking at me
some hearts weren't ever meant to love
some tears weren't ever mean to be cried
that's what you told me on the day that I died
you left me without a soul
spiralling down into the dark
sucked into your black hole
I was your child, your lover, your friend
and you left me alone for eternity without end


Scarlette Death
October 6, 2001

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