The Unknown

I gaze out of my window,
And up into the sky,
That sapphire display of experiences and worlds unknown,
That projection screen for hopes and fears,
I see other worlds that are out of reach,
Or are they imaginary?

The great azure sky looms over,
Acting as a backdrop for my minds eye,
The sun illuminates it,
Acting as a catalyst for what I see,
The clouds act their little plays,
Trying to obscure the enigmas I see,

I see worlds of splendor,
I see nightmare-scapes,
I see fiends and seraphs,
Horrors unbound,
And otherworldly monsters,
Oh the monsters,

Alien worlds that are wholly unknowable,
Stars shimmering every colour of this world,
And many that are not,
Worlds of untold beauty and potential,
And worlds of misery and black lightning,
I’ve seen these before in my dreams,

Then I become cognizant of something,
I was staring into a mirror all along,
A window into the human soul.

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Mr. Ash

He’s coming for me,
Even the storm outside does not cloak his steps,
Mr. Ash,
The frigid wind tries to hold him back in vain,
The rain whispers “flee”,
Each stroke of lightning is a plea of “run!”,

My attempts at going underground failed,
My thieving insult to him will be repaid in blood,
I glance out of the window fearfully,
I see him nearing even in the black,
It’s like staring into evil itself,
It’s like looking at the apocalypse in slow motion,

A demon,
A God,
Or something altogether more alien,
Long spindly limbs,
Pale and hairless,
He is dressed literally to kill,

His emaciated limbs bear barbarous claws,
Claws that have ended lives since time began,
And perhaps even before,
His mad eyes are wide open,
His grin filled with murderous intent,
He’s coming for me,

His form appeared at my door,
That grin still glistening,
Despite the horror that was about to ensue,
His rangy form must nearly crouch,
But I still feel like a frightened child,
The monster under the bed is real,

Even the bravest slink in terror,
And fear the name of Mr. Ash,
Even the maddest see reason,
And fear the name of Mr. Ash,
Even as my body is torn limb from limb,
The storm continues unabated.

Book of Nightmares

As I stare blankly at the page,
Me and my mind make a pact,
A pact with this book of nightmares,
This monster I put my pen to,
A sanctum for every horror that crosses my minds eye,
Or perhaps an asylum?

This is my unholy gift to you,
A window into my mind,
Full of horrors and abominations as it is,
I must continue to write regardless,
I must keep creating these literary monsters,
The book demands it.

I begin to write,
And the nightmares come out to play,
Letters and words creep from recesses,
Punctuation slivers hither-and-thither,
Sentences of madness begin to form,
I’ve released a monster.

Or am I creating it?

Imp

Beware the fiendish imp,
Eyes burning with a devious glee,
Hell couldn’t possibly contain its mischief,
It’s been known to tamper with reality you know,
Now it’s coming to play a malicious prank on you,
Do you think you’ll survive?

You hear it giggling to itself in the dark,
Or is it creeping ever closer?
Under the bed or behind you perhaps?

Imp says read each first letter.

Train Of Thought

When the bitter times come,
Like a winter in your life,
You may retreat into your mind,
You may board a dark train of thought,
Its windows blackened,
And smokestack spouting your old secrets.

It’s a runaway train,
Soaring along serpentine rails,
Built upon things you did and didn’t do,
Promises kept and promises broken,
Ideas fair and ideas forbidden,
It runs unabated despite your protests.

You descend further,
Your thoughts contort as if alive,
You travel further down the carriages,
Its booths full of lost souls,
You watch as your hope and optimism hurtle past,
Like stations bypassed.

Your train of thought surges forth,
Bleak and pitiful,
There is no getting off.

The Hellraisers

If you ever travel along highway 666,
And night comes,
Beware the screech of tires,
Unholy calls and mad incantations,
And the smell of sulfur,
The Hellraisers may be near.

Where they ride,
The damned rise from the depths,
And pillars of flame tower up,
To an orchestra of demon cries,
Where they ride,
The very world reels in fear.

Riding out from a hellhole of a bar,
Riding atop scorching metal steeds,
They claw streaks of flame,
Into hallowed ground,
They laugh in the face of the heavens,
Drunk on mayhem and whiskey.

Leather-clad and riddled with tattoos,
Black sunglasses and infernal grins,
And boots that reek of oil and gore,
They curb-stomped the angels,
And kneecapped your Savior,
The heavens went up in a sawnoff blast.

They are chaos incarnate,
They ride to an apocalypse,
That only they can see.

Evil

I lay beaten and bloodied,
On the cold floor of this world,
Provoked by human bigotry,
Riposted by human lies,
Cut open by human greed,
Mankind struck me down.

We were warned to be vigilant,
To protect our families from the dark,
Evil lay just out of sight,
Danger peeked around corners,
Here there be monsters they told us,
Simple misdirection.

The true monsters grow no claws nor fangs,
They stand shoulder to shoulder with you,
They wear the same suits and eat from the same troughs,
No demons are coming from the dark,
Humanity is already here,
Evil has already won.

The Asylum Mythos: The Brain-Beast

“Not only humans reside here in the asylum. Oh no indeed! There are myriad entities in these halls. From demons to vampires, from faefolk to sorcerers, from beasts to things ever more unknowable. The asylum is a menagerie of sorts. Anybody or anything can potentially find its way here. The more bizarre and demented they are, the easier they can find it. I get along with the majority of things here, even the most unusual inmates. In fact, the cellmate opposite me, a good friend, is a cyclops. The cell at the end of the hall is said to hold a man who can turn anything he licks into diamond. You’re never far from something strange or unexplainable. That’s just the nature of the asylum. There is never a dull moment!

It’s true that the asylum is endless. It’s our own dimension. There are as many cell-blocks as there are stars in the sky and nobody is tied to one cell. Oh, apart from that one man who is literally attached to his cell walls, but I digress. There is one cell-block few dare to enter however. This cell-block is said to contain one of the strangest beings I know of. Yes indeed, even the Hag-Man is lost for words. They call it the Brain-Beast.

In all honesty, nobody really knows what it is. Even I. Is it a demon? Some lost monster? An old god? What ever it is, it’s certainly powerful. It wouldn’t have been able to carve out something a territory otherwise. They say it resembles an over-sized human brain with a bizarre and unnerving mask, emblazoned in orange and dark green. The expression is ever-staring and freakishly gormless. There are said to be four eye holes, so I suppose the creature has four eyes. From the brain hangs something of a vestigial spinal cord, like an inanimate tail. From the flanks of the brain are four iron joints, from which four fleshy arms sprout. The arms are said to be of differing lengths. At the ends of these fleshy arms are skeletal hands in white silken globes. Very unusual.

They say the Brain-Beast was once man. An insane man, by all accounts. Mad, yes, but a genius if there ever was one. Genius and insanity often go hand in hand don’t they? Typical really. He was a man that not only displayed signs of multiple-personality disorder, but also ironically wished to be able to be in several places at once. I daresay this was due to a demanding occupation and an ever more demanding married life. The man wished to be able to work 24 hours a day every day, while still having a home life. He also wanted sorely to have an active social life. Simply too much, even for a genius. You could say he was innately a busybody. A true workaholic, as well as an aspiring barfly.

The man was a scientist, a professor or perhaps a doctor. It’s not entirely clear. As all men of science are known to do, he began to concoct a plan. A plan to cure his ailing life. He was going to be in several places at once, ethics be damned. What happened at this point is something of a mystery. How did a scientific and prodigious busybody with a mental disorder become the abominable being we hear of today? Some say he made some kind of deal with a powerful demon. Others say he conducted an experiment so foul that nobody wishes to speak of it. Some inmates speak of unknown sorcery. Some say he summoned the Brain-Beast and was consumed by it. Nobody knows for sure. Myself? I believe that one of his more ugly personalities took over and caused the experiment to go awry. The man was turned into the Brain-Beast by accident. Naturally I would take my own theory over any other.

What ever the case was, the mans wish was fulfilled, in a sense. As the Brain-Beast wanders, reportedly by floating in mid-air through telepathic means, it carries in each hand a lifeless puppet. The creature somehow fashions each of these puppets into a human figure. Each one different, each one random. Perhaps one is his original form? Others could be people he knew or people he has seen before. Perhaps they are simply from the creatures imagination. The figures change seemingly at a whim. One could be a young blond man, another could be elderly woman, while yet another could be a one-legged man. It simply doesn’t appear to offer any challenged to the creature. It gets stranger though. The creature hangs each of these puppets from strings attached to its fingers, like an old puppeteer. The Brain-Beasts true body vanishes into thin air, leaving only the puppets. The puppets are horrifically lifelike, they look like real people. Expressionless faces stare outwards. Then the strangest thing happens.

The puppets come to life, each of them imitating human beings. Each puppet acts independently. The Brain-Beast seemingly controlling each one individually, with absolutely perfect aptitude.  Oddly these puppet people are able to move unhindered, as if there were no strings holding them up. Distance doesn’t seem to matter. One puppet could be doing something at one end of a building while another could be in a different room, on a different floor. It must be some form of magic. The Brain-Beast can now be in several locations at once, acting and seeing through these puppets. It could be building something with one puppet, while getting materials at the other end of the asylum with another puppet. These puppets can be dangerous, perhaps due to the creatures power, by possessing immense physical strength and appearing to feel no pain or fear. The Brain-Beast can fight with these puppets, since an aggressor can never know exactly where the creature is at a given time due to its invisibility. It could be behind them in the same room or in another location altogether. The man got his wish, he essentially became several people, controlled by a tremendously powerful mind. I daresay the creature is as insane as the man whom it used to be. Acting at random and without an end goal. It is simply content with fulfilling it’s wish of being in several places at once.

I found it hard to believe when I first heard the legend of the Brain-Beast. It seems anything can exist and even thrive in this asylum. It does highlight just how bizarre this place is. I do not yet understand why the Harlequin fashioned this asylum. Why would any being create such a place? Is it a reflection of himself? Is it a hiding place? Or perhaps a prison? It simply makes no sense. I intend to find out someday though. Not even the Harlequin can outsmart the Hag-Man, I swear it…”

Blasphemy

Hell is a refuge for the misunderstood and the heaven-scorned.
All of the underdogs of the world reside there.
Infernal misfits and demonic scum.
Lamenting our deprivation of a refuge.

Shoved and driven to this sanctum by so-called divine hands.
Angels are simple haughty liars.
The Un-maker of Worlds took us in.
Abominable and glorious our new god is.
Now read each first letter and repeat with us.

The Thirsters

It has been quite some time since I wrote about Ryan Sargent. Far too long in my opinion. Ryan has been hunting demons recently, or more specifically, a particular kind of demon.

“Demons are one of the most fascinating beings I’ve ever hunted. Demons are one of the most mysterious beings I’ve ever hunted. Demons are one of the most dangerous beings I’ve ever hunted. I could never claim to enjoy doing what i do, indeed it feels more like a duty to humanity, but i can’t help but find these evil, savage creatures very intriguing. During my career (if it can be called as such) i have followed in the wake of 4 demons. Each one was as unique as a us humans can be. Each one totally different from the next, their powers, their appearances, their dispositions, even down to the reasons that it came to our world.

Picture the archetypal demon from lore. Picture the red skin, bestial features, ram-like horns and affinity for fire. Well, throw that image out of your head. These things are nothing like that. I tell you, the church couldn’t be more wrong. The fantasy writers couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve seen a demon that resembled a swirling mass of cogs with red blazing eyes. I’ve faced a demon that looked more akin to a fish than a devil, though just as cruel. I’ve myself banished a demon that resembled a mouse with a snake for a tail. You see, they are as varied as they are dangerous.

They are all certainly evil, there’s no doubting that. Few denizens of the supernatural have quite the same body count as these monsters. They kill for pride, they kill for greed, they most certainly kill for wrath. They are pure-bred killing machines, from what I’ve seen. Some are more subtle perhaps, but they are all capable of horrendous slaughter.

But how do they come to our world?

That varies really. They claw their way from Hell to our world and then either possess a human or travel through some kind of occult portal. The second option there obviously requires inside help, so to speak. Well, demons are able to travel around our world in some kind of spirit form. Like a ghost, you know. But there is another way. A lesser known method to enter the mortal world. They still use humans, but in a far more hideous manner.

The demons that adopt this method are possibly the worst of the worst. The damned among the damned. I call them the “Thirsters”.

Unlike ‘normal’ demons, these fiends are more animalistic. They don’t think like a sentient being, they are beasts. Nothing more. So how do these things get into our world? Surely they would too primitive to possess someone. They’re certainly not subtle enough to trick someone into building them a gateway. No, the actual method Thirsters use is far more primitive and violent. It still curdles my blood to this day.

Bob told me it was actually some kind of curse. The idea of a cursed demon is bizarre really. I thought they were already supposed to be cursed, hence why they were in Hell. Probably Bob being a trickster again, trying to scare me.

They simply tear their way into our world. They too, travel to our world from Hell and then slink around our atmosphere in some kind of spirit form. They then identify a worthy “host”. Now from what i can tell, this host has to be someone who is either very agitated at a given moment or is naturally hot-blooded. The demon then spiritually enters the hosts body and quite literally rips itself out, in a physical form. You see, they use human bodies and blood as their portals. I think an obsession with pain and blood is what has driven them to this depraved method. It’s the only reason that makes sense.

I have witnessed it myself unfortunately. Quite recently, in fact. I had tracked down a depraved cultist that was trying to grow his flock to a warehouse down in the grey district. He had been grooming local tramps and hobos. Truly, the depths this freak would plumb were unknowable. Once inside the warehouse he began some kind of disgusting ritual, involving copious amounts of blood and a goat. I’d rather not repeat how it went. The cultist repeated what i assume was a name: Rigtos. He must of repeated the name at least 30 times before something began to happen. The man began to convulse horribly, blood streaming from his nose and eyes. Then in a sickeningly display, a crimson bladed fist burst forth from the mans chest. Followed by more claws, pulling the chest opening further apart. Then suddenly the body was ripped clean in two, a monstrous dog-like beast crawled forth. It let out a bestial roar and leaped clear out of the roof. This was an archetypal Thirster. A true monster.

For the record, that thing did get away. It was long gone before i could even get out of my hiding spot.

So there you have it. My very simple account of a class of demon that poses a very true threat to society. A very real threat to our families, our friends and our homes. These creatures are true monsters, completely devoid of anything even remotely reminiscent of feelings or remorse. One has to wonder what Hell could of created such an abomination.”

From the desk of Ryan Sargent.