Directly Underfoot, you’d be surprised as to what you might find. Be very, very careful when you lift your foot and where it’s placed!
This “Thriller Chiller” is a newbie and an ‘Oldie but Goodie’ that will take you to the highest point of the lowest of the lowliest… Dark and Dank are the pits of hellish sin, evil thoughts, and deeds.
“My Vengeance Needs Blood”
A knock came upon the door…two men, plainly dressed in tie and coat, accompanied by two in uniform appeared. My eye peered at them through the semi-opened door. I opened it just a crack, as I did not wish for them to hear the pounding beneath the floor.
The pounding noise would not stop. I had to find a way to make it stop. Don’t you understand? It had to stop. It began to pound loudly. It was too loud…very loud! Do you not hear it? It’s driving me mad, mad I tell you. Through the crack in the floor the orb peered out.
“It was fixated upon me! It glared at me all the time. I could not look on it any longer…I had to make it go away, even if I had to pluck it out of head of the old man while he sat in the rocking chair.” “That is why I had to put him and that vultures eye under the floor.” “It wasn’t his fault that the evil eye stared at me.”
“It would not be able to gaze on me if it was under the floor. The money-box was hidden under the floor. He knew that I’d find it. He would not give the box to me even if I’d asked for it.”
In my desperate and frenzied dismemberment of the old man’s body how was I going to dispose of it and the heart that I heard beating beneath the floor? I also wanted to know how I, this vile individual, was going to make an attempt at escape; paying the price for taking the life of an innocent man.
In these methodical descriptions of how I was going to cure him of this menace that haunted me.
Explaining my reasons for not wanting to harm the old man. The chronicled planning of how I was going to end his misery. The self-convincing arguments for doing away with the horrible thing that had to be destroyed. In my illustration and familiarity with objects that horrify the soul, the phrases utilized such as – “My Blood Ran Cold”, “Black’s Pitch”, “The Thick Darkness”, and “Death Is Approaching, I decided.”
“I Moved It Slowly…Very, Very, Slowly”; “It was Open, Wide, Wide, Open.” “I had to put an end to it…I had to put it out!”
Can you see, hear, and feel the very essence of the room in which the madness took place? Can you almost hear the beating of the old man’s heart?
Hah…that’s what the author put in his collection of stories and reports. He didn’t know the half of it. Allow me to complete his rendition before I trust you with further details.
“Readers can visualize the gruesomeness of the pale blue orb, described as a ‘vulture’s eye;’ the evil eye covered by a thin film like that of a fish. It was terribly nasty to look at. In a frenzied dismemberment of the old man’s body, I was preparing to dispose of it and the fucking heart that I kept hearing beat beneath the damnable boards of the floor. I was a vile individual who had every reason to believe that I could make and escape of paying the price for taking the life of an innocent soul.”
The truth is he was not as completely innocent as some would have you think…
I laugh to think I was brought here by my father along with the family from the cold dark and dank alleyways of ‘Edinburgh.’ To think my life so bad that we had to move away to another town filled to the gullet with more cold dark and dank alleyways. Some call the eerie traverse-ways as bastions of hell’s corridors. These causeways are the birth canals of the butchering ‘Ripper.’
My course throughout has lead me astray due to the raptures and starving readiness of servitude. A short stay in ‘Her Majesty’s Royal Navy did me no good either. After cutting a man’s throat from ear to ear, they tossed me in the bloody brig intent on making a date with the gallows’ hangman who was in competition with the axman.
My tale of woe and contempt began there, at home, and continued to escalate while I was sitting and stuffing my belly full of mutton, gruel, and a tawny red port. When that was done, a nice bottle of claret did suffice. The cognac was a bit tasty indeed. Down on my luck, I hadn’t two copper coins to rub together. I needed work. I needed a place to lay my head. I had to eat. When was it last that I’d eaten? Two days ago, maybe three… I can’t quite remember. Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned. The mustached and bearded man smiled at me while pouring a glass of claret. He shoved the goblet under my nose. Its bountiful aroma was unbearable. I had to taste, to drink of it, to swallow it. I downed half of the goblet’s content. Through the stupor of my drunken gaze, I turned once again. I wanted to thank the smiling stranger. He accordingly nodded and poured once more.
“I do understand good sir, that you are in need of gainful employment and... ~The Smiling Man~
"Underfoot"
“Tattletale or The Tell Tale Heart”
~Edgar Allen Poe~
http://gboulwareallhallowsnight.blogs...
Directly Underfoot, you’d be surprised as to what you might find. Be very, very careful when you lift your foot and where it’s placed!
This “Thriller Chiller” is a newbie and an ‘Oldie but Goodie’ that will take you to the highest point of the lowest of the lowliest… Dark and Dank are the pits of hellish sin, evil thoughts, and deeds.
“My Vengeance Needs Blood”
A knock came upon the door…two men, plainly dressed in tie and coat, accompanied by two in uniform appeared. My eye peered at them through the semi-opened door. I opened it just a crack, as I did not wish for them to hear the pounding beneath the floor.
The pounding noise would not stop. I had to find a way to make it stop. Don’t you understand? It had to stop. It began to pound loudly. It was too loud…very loud! Do you not hear it? It’s driving me mad, mad I tell you. Through the crack in the floor the orb peered out.
“It was fixated upon me! It glared at me all the time. I could not look on it any longer…I had to make it go away, even if I had to pluck it out of head of the old man while he sat in the rocking chair.” “That is why I had to put him and that vultures eye under the floor.” “It wasn’t his fault that the evil eye stared at me.”
“It would not be able to gaze on me if it was under the floor. The money-box was hidden under the floor. He knew that I’d find it. He would not give the box to me even if I’d asked for it.”
In my desperate and frenzied dismemberment of the old man’s body how was I going to dispose of it and the heart that I heard beating beneath the floor? I also wanted to know how I, this vile individual, was going to make an attempt at escape; paying the price for taking the life of an innocent man.
In these methodical descriptions of how I was going to cure him of this menace that haunted me.
Explaining my reasons for not wanting to harm the old man. The chronicled planning of how I was going to end his misery. The self-convincing arguments for doing away with the horrible thing that had to be destroyed. In my illustration and familiarity with objects that horrify the soul, the phrases utilized such as – “My Blood Ran Cold”, “Black’s Pitch”, “The Thick Darkness”, and “Death Is Approaching, I decided.”
“I Moved It Slowly…Very, Very, Slowly”; “It was Open, Wide, Wide, Open.” “I had to put an end to it…I had to put it out!”
Can you see, hear, and feel the very essence of the room in which the madness took place? Can you almost hear the beating of the old man’s heart?
Hah…that’s what the author put in his collection of stories and reports. He didn’t know the half of it. Allow me to complete his rendition before I trust you with further details.
“Readers can visualize the gruesomeness of the pale blue orb, described as a ‘vulture’s eye;’ the evil eye covered by a thin film like that of a fish. It was terribly nasty to look at. In a frenzied dismemberment of the old man’s body, I was preparing to dispose of it and the fucking heart that I kept hearing beat beneath the damnable boards of the floor. I was a vile individual who had every reason to believe that I could make and escape of paying the price for taking the life of an innocent soul.”
The truth is he was not as completely innocent as some would have you think…
I laugh to think I was brought here by my father along with the family from the cold dark and dank alleyways of ‘Edinburgh.’ To think my life so bad that we had to move away to another town filled to the gullet with more cold dark and dank alleyways. Some call the eerie traverse-ways as bastions of hell’s corridors. These causeways are the birth canals of the butchering ‘Ripper.’
My course throughout has lead me astray due to the raptures and starving readiness of servitude. A short stay in ‘Her Majesty’s Royal Navy did me no good either. After cutting a man’s throat from ear to ear, they tossed me in the bloody brig intent on making a date with the gallows’ hangman who was in competition with the axman.
My tale of woe and contempt began there, at home, and continued to escalate while I was sitting and stuffing my belly full of mutton, gruel, and a tawny red port. When that was done, a nice bottle of claret did suffice. The cognac was a bit tasty indeed. Down on my luck, I hadn’t two copper coins to rub together. I needed work. I needed a place to lay my head. I had to eat. When was it last that I’d eaten? Two days ago, maybe three… I can’t quite remember.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned. The mustached and bearded man smiled at me while pouring a glass of claret. He shoved the goblet under my nose. Its bountiful aroma was unbearable. I had to taste, to drink of it, to swallow it. I downed half of the goblet’s content. Through the stupor of my drunken gaze, I turned once again. I wanted to thank the smiling stranger. He accordingly nodded and poured once more.
“I do understand good sir, that you are in need of gainful employment and...
~The Smiling Man~
~”Man, Behold Thy Story - The Conqueror Worm”~
http://thetattletaleunderfoot.blogspo...
“Tattletale or The Tell Tale Heart”
~Edgar Allen Poe~
http://gboulwareallhallowsnight.blogs...
*/