Bogleech.com's 2019 Horror Write-off:
Old Men and Ancient Doors
Submitted by Murat Can Ozyonum (email)
In Old, dark days lay an old, dark door.
Guarded by a man, older than them all.
Holding a key, shrouded in mystery.
There he stood, never changing in his goal.
Waiting for a certain someone, someone to open the door.
In Old, dark days there were three.
Three ancient shaman, brothers from a estranged family.
There was the Wise, his wisdom unmatched.
Then the Kind, always helping those in need.
And finally the Arrogant, Uncaring and with no thought to his actions.
The third was never trusted, always making deals and tricking those aloft
Never paying heed to warnings or his brother's prophesies.
In Old, dark days a terrible action has been committed.
By a brother, a shaman no less.
There was no guess, for who has done it.
The arrogant went to visit the old man.
Captivated by deals and lies.
Entranced by riches and galore.
All he was asked, was to open the door.
The two brothers were too late, their haven was breached.
Hell sprung loose, chaos in its wake.
The door held terrible secrets and dark spirits.
All were waiting to exit, now they had their chance.
The strange were awoken, the weird began to rise.
The peaceful land is now being terrorized.
Transformed and unrecognizable from before.
The old man laughed and was now filled with glee.
The third was lost, missing with no trace to see.
The door was still kept open, bad omens flooding out.
The two brothers knew what had to be done.
They combined their magic, their power with force.
Readying themselves, prepared for whatever was in store.
With their might, they pushed the evil back.
Closing the door, and trapping the dark far, far away.
In doing so they were lost, fully transformed from the doors horrors.
Unfortunately so, much else was still permanent.
The strange and gross still maintained.
The shamans fully ashamed and shambled.
Hid away, forever to wallow in their troubles.
In Old, dark days three brothers lost their lives.
Broken apart by a old man and his lies.
The door still stood still, awaiting a key.
Awaiting a person, who wished for the world's end.
And so forth, the future would arrive.
Ancient creatures kept watch on civilizations on the rise.
Making sure old mistakes would never arise.
A old man sat and waited, a perpetual plan in the making.
And a hidden voice whispering for help, all but muffled by a insidious door.
Guarded by a man, older than them all.
Holding a key, shrouded in mystery.
There he stood, never changing in his goal.
Waiting for a certain someone, someone to open the door.
In Old, dark days there were three.
Three ancient shaman, brothers from a estranged family.
There was the Wise, his wisdom unmatched.
Then the Kind, always helping those in need.
And finally the Arrogant, Uncaring and with no thought to his actions.
The third was never trusted, always making deals and tricking those aloft
Never paying heed to warnings or his brother's prophesies.
In Old, dark days a terrible action has been committed.
By a brother, a shaman no less.
There was no guess, for who has done it.
The arrogant went to visit the old man.
Captivated by deals and lies.
Entranced by riches and galore.
All he was asked, was to open the door.
The two brothers were too late, their haven was breached.
Hell sprung loose, chaos in its wake.
The door held terrible secrets and dark spirits.
All were waiting to exit, now they had their chance.
The strange were awoken, the weird began to rise.
The peaceful land is now being terrorized.
Transformed and unrecognizable from before.
The old man laughed and was now filled with glee.
The third was lost, missing with no trace to see.
The door was still kept open, bad omens flooding out.
The two brothers knew what had to be done.
They combined their magic, their power with force.
Readying themselves, prepared for whatever was in store.
With their might, they pushed the evil back.
Closing the door, and trapping the dark far, far away.
In doing so they were lost, fully transformed from the doors horrors.
Unfortunately so, much else was still permanent.
The strange and gross still maintained.
The shamans fully ashamed and shambled.
Hid away, forever to wallow in their troubles.
In Old, dark days three brothers lost their lives.
Broken apart by a old man and his lies.
The door still stood still, awaiting a key.
Awaiting a person, who wished for the world's end.
And so forth, the future would arrive.
Ancient creatures kept watch on civilizations on the rise.
Making sure old mistakes would never arise.
A old man sat and waited, a perpetual plan in the making.
And a hidden voice whispering for help, all but muffled by a insidious door.