《I Hear It》 Summon The Choir I hear it. The thuds from my walls I hear it. It awakens me in the middle of the night as my fever runs hot A sign of my sickness. They thought me mad, but as my blanket ensnares me, I know fully well I am all too sane They did not believe me once I said they were coming, the ones who stood long before us They laughed at me and called me mad, now, as the thuds evolve into clawing outside my window, a sense of vindication washes over me I know it to be sinful, but I cannot help it Let me have just one victory before the sky turns that dreadful crimson. I beg of you, God. Before my body rejects my very own skin, choosing to embrace blood and bone Allow just one victory As my blood burns me inside out in a tomb of my making I hear it. It¡¯s quiet, no it¡¯s deafening An orchestral choir composed entirely of the scratching and rattling of my window A part of me wishes to open the window, natural curiosity I imagine But I have no say in the matter My body is not mine. The mind inside my body is not mine I know it to be selfish, but I had hoped to prolong the inevitable Enjoying what little true free will I had in my possession Though, I assume this was your mercy Allowing me to bear witness to the final moment of my own sanity I thank you. Wolves howl outside my window, accompanied by the sound of children crying Or is it just a fox screaming at an uncaring world? Before long, the bell strikes midnight I hear it, over and over again Endlessly it feels like You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. A herald of doom perhaps, a song of torment The song plays, reaching my infected soul Oh, what great joy! Soon the mask on my skin may finally rip away What great joy! I can finally look upon a congealed crimson sky Without my eyes getting in the way A sky as bright as the sun itself even in the cold moonlight My insides look for an escape They sense your arrival Could you come soon? I can hardly wait for your caring embrace That¡¯s when I hear it Footsteps that make no sound Breaths that require no air You have come for me! You did not forget me! The choir outside my window swells Welcoming your arrival I presume A beautiful melody befitting a lord such as yourself The one in the sky with a million eyes I hear you. Opening the door you creep in I cannot see you with my eyes But I know you¡¯re there I can feel it. Your beauty requires no vision to see Would you ever share your oh-so-lovely gift? I apologize for uttering your wondrous name in such a vile manner If you deem it so, I would pluck my own eyes out to fill your collection As my body contorts itself into a form you find more pleasing I make only one selfish request I beg of you, lord of all that is crimson and bone Do not allow me to fade into the night once all has ended Allow me to become part of your beautiful choir, forevermore I hear It. I hear it. A sign of my body not being my own My fever boils me alive A sign of your love Please, I beg of you Show me mercy. Fit my soul within your holy union I am your vessel Even if I am to turn into a beast, I shall welcome it with open arms Oh God, please lend your mercy upon this poor sinner I do not wish to die alone or live in agony writhing on the floor With only what remains of my flesh to comfort me Invite me to your glorious marching band, I will play the drums just how you want me too I hear you. I can hear you! I finally hear you, allowing my heart to flutter like never before! I thank you, I can finally see. Foul Metal Stink Father? I hear you knocking upon my door You stink of metal, how queer Your voice does not reach me, only rasps and gasps I worry. You had become quite morose after Mother¡¯s passing It¡¯s quite unusual for you to leave your chambers Let alone on a night this haunting I see a crimson light flood my room. I hurry back into bed, fearful of the night. Did this anger you? I hear knocking become desperate pounding But you stay silent Not uttering a word That is when I hear it. Thuds in the wall, vermin scattering, no doubt No wait, that can¡¯t be it The noise is far too loud Am I just paranoid? You told me yourself, Father, To prepare for when our god forsakes us People called you mad But is this what you meant Almost as a response, I hear a twisted laugh outside my room A fox or something more sinister? I don¡¯t feel well. In the span of a cough, my body begins to reject itself Blood pools at my sides. Steeping into my bedsheets As rivulets run down from my head to my feet This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. You have stopped pounding on my door? Why? Did I misbehave? Should I have opened the door? But you told me not to! When will it end? Questions flood my mind The church never spoke of such an event I get interrupted by a familiar voice outside my door. Brother, is that you? Have you come to check on me Or is it simply a facade Seconds pass and your voice leaves me again The stench of metal. Why have both of you abandoned me I leave my bed once more. Stepping forward, I try to glimpse out of the window Only to be met with bodies of suffering men and women hanging off the tips of cathedrals Underneath a sky congealed in crimson What is happening? I beg you Father, come and save me My body is growing weaker by the second I crave your loving embrace Your knocks resume Please forgive me. I do not have the strength to resist No longer do I care what you have said, I wish to be freed from this nightmare I open the door. Blood pours out of my mouth as I do Where are you? Father, where is my brother? Both my questions get answered once I see you standing over a pile of gore You¡¯re not my father. Who are you? Your body is no longer human Nothing left but muscle and bone With the stench of metal clinging to your very being I hear it. The laugh from my window I hear it! It was not a laugh after all But just a plea from a fading soul Please do not come closer. Your jaws are far too large Your eyes are far too wide Your spine is far too needle-like Please, I beg you! A hidden choir sings a song both mellifluous and overwhelmingly loud A song of lament. Please, stay away, allow me one mor¡ª The church bell dings in the distance. The Cloaked Choir The poor clown. Is that what they think of me A blind-blathering fool Who can no longer take the smallest of walks alone Who are they to say what and who I need They call for jokes but make me leave if I dare make mention of my own illness Regardless of the context And worse yet, they have forced a servant to be my own eyes I hold no resentment for the poor boy He was as forced into this agreement as I was He opens the door. I have not seen the inside of this room for a great many decades Yet I still remember every detail From the smallest cracks along the wainscoted walls To the beautiful ocean-blue ceiling He sits me down. Do they think so lowly of me To think I can¡¯t apply my own medication Curse them Curse them all, I say! I long for the days of old When my sight was still strong I miss my blue ceiling And its tender reminder of life outside these walls I was a man of nobility Before I was punished for daring to want more Suddenly, a faint voice calls out to me. I perk my ears and listen Nothing I think it strange but pay it no mind Until I hear it again I ask the boy to my left if he can hear it as well But I am left with a swift dismission He jokes that I¡¯m growing old I stifle a scowl. I try to let it go, but it rings out again Only louder and much more clear An invitation? To what I think to myself And in answer, I hear them in the back of my mind An invitation to join a beautiful choir One that will shape the very stone this castle lies on Oh god, perhaps I am going mad Not mad they say, only ahead of the curve I try to silence the voice. However, like how snakes throttle their prey They maintain their iron grip, unwilling to move Get out. I can feel them worming through my brain Whether physical or purely mental, I do not know I scream out loud, get out! The boy drops the medicine as he rushes to my side Are you okay? He asks, his cold hand, sending shivers through my pinstriped vest I slap it away. Even if I go mad, I shall never take his pity His every word is tainted with that needling tone that I despise I feel them in my very veins. With each passing second, they get closer to the front of my head To my old useless eyes I feel sick to my stomach Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. A cacophony of string instruments plays. Within their songs, they promise me the impossible Showing visions of a different world One unfathomable to human eyes I weep silently. Unsure if it¡¯s due to sadness or happiness beyond compare A paradise not on this earth but rather within the stars Hidden deep into the depths of another plane of existence One only accessible through navigating the depths of the mortal coil A beautiful, fervent parade dedicated to a glorious lord. Oh, blessed be! Oh, blessed be! We are next in line to take part And you have sent your messengers to ask me to join you I have never felt so honored But I cannot serve you. My eyes they are faulty, not fit for your service A poison made of plant toxins has been dripped into them A singer''s voice cuts through the deepest recesses of my mind. I apologize, I do not understand what you¡¯ve said Once again the voice speaks, their voice ephemeral yet so soothing I understand now. I laugh and I laugh as I weep The boy again asked me in a shaky voice what was happening But I see through their attempt to deride me And I let him know as such I hear his footsteps while he runs to seek help I cannot help but scream and laugh I know he won¡¯t make it I hear his cough. That evolves into gagging on his own blood I hear a repulsing noise as something falls to the floor with a squish He crashes against the dresser next to the door Then the unthinkable happens I can see. I can see! Oh, blessed be this dark night! I can''t see colors Or rather I only see in shades of white, black, and brilliant crimson But it does not matter For I can now see more than I ever have before I can see sounds! I can see smells! I could even see your glorious eyes right outside the balcony decorating the crimson sky Praise be you beautiful being! I look over to my servant His organs, bones, and muscles spill out of his mouth Emptying his vessel for a most clement lord to make use of Once he has finished He shall be nothing more than an empty pile of sentient flesh Clinging to the plush red carpet I chortle to myself Then I hear it. A song so beautiful I can not contain myself I pirouette toward the balcony My heart filled with gratitude I see them. Your cloaked messengers draped in the flesh of lesser beings Adorned with your most spectacular symbol Carved into their mouthless faces Pleochroic jewels where their eyes once laid Inhumanly tall, they raise their arms of bone and point toward the balcony doors I understand what I must do. I throw myself through the balcony in a state of euphoric mania The glass shatters, cutting through my loathed pinstriped vest I cannot help but cry as I yell out to the sky Not in grief but rather as a way to announce my coming I will join you soon in your parade Away from this disgusting castle cell Away from these fools who stifled me for oh-so-long Away from that blue ceiling that was painted to keep chained All the way to your much more liberating sea of eyes I stumble my way through the balcony Unable to keep still from sheer elation I push myself up onto the stone railing. I stand here, alone physically but surrounded in spirit Your cloaked choir does not sing. They line up behind me, watching my every move It does not matter For once, I begin to sing, they follow along with their hymns Together we produce a grandiose song dedicated to you and you alone With a voice that is not my own I take the lead It¡¯s sweet and loud It¡¯s low and deep It''s pure perfection! I thank you. As I come to my final lyric, I have the best view of the city For I can see it all now The pointed tips of manors and chapels down to rundown streets Where men, women, and children take their roles in your parade Skin becomes bone, bone becomes muscle and muscle becomes lumps of skin I swear to sing your hymns for as long as this parade ventures forth I look into your million eyes in the sky And with a bow, I fall off the railing Laughing as I do in combination with their song Which has now reached a fever pitch A crescendo of song builds the lower I go! It dwarfs every other noise in its vicinity! Until the church bell rings with a brass cling. A dark omen as another body crashes to the cold ground on this dreadful night. The Fear A Beautiful Night. That is what I thought as I strolled through the streets Policemen walked around me on their patrols The air was crisp and cold With only the soothing warm light from streetlamps to counter it Leaves fell to the ground with the gentleness of late August winds Enchanted by the bright moonlight The leaves shined a breathtaking white From a moon that hung low in the sky Then I saw you. You were sat at a public bench in front of the old church graveyard Your face looked gaunt and sickly Your eyes had nary a thought behind them And you wore a black robe I thought it odd for a moment But I assumed you too were enjoying this delightful night and carried on What a dreadful mistake. I continued to walk my way home Encountering a murder of crows pecking at a dead rodent on my stroll I thought it cruel and waved the birds away They cawed and flapped their wings at me But eventually, they did fly away to look for a new meal I should have noticed you. Walking past the homes of others enjoying warm meals A smile crept upon my face as I thought back to simpler days Before the priests had stuck their noses where they did not belong Deep into the old caves Since then, the whole town has been in a tizzy I shook my head. No reason to fuel such negative thoughts on a night as this one Further into my stroll, a lady of the night propositioned me I kept walking for I had no money In our brief conversation, she said something that caught my interest She made mention of a woman in red With blank eyes and a gaunt appearance My mind flashed back to you sitting on that park bench However, it was only a brief mention So I did not think much of it at the time Then it began. With each step I took, a second step rung out in the air When I stopped, they stopped I looked around, only not to see anything Yet with each step, I heard another One which did not belong to me. The hairs on my neck began to rise I quickened my pace through these poorly lit streets I remember it now! I nearly ran over a poor old man Sitting in front of his home He was smoking a pipe that smelled of poppy He went to yell. But at the sight of me, he averted his eyes I tried to get his attention to which he simply walked into his home with a stumble Leaving his poppy-filled pipe behind I was thoroughly unsettled I turned once again and saw a vague glimpse of a woman¡¯s long hair The moonlight reflecting off it with a shine Right before she vanished into the tall shadows No longer simply enjoying a simple walk I ran. You followed close behind mimicking each step The noise grew closer and closer Were you close behind? I did not dare to leave the streetlights guiding warmth For I had believed you feared the light A blunder of the highest order! Fortuitously, I had found my home I slammed my door open and threw it back with the same vigor Like a man possessed, I dash to my living room On the center table sat a candle lantern I lit a match, and it ignited with a brilliant warm light Holding it up, I peered through the curtains I saw you. Standing there on the corner of the street Your gaze was as listless as before Only now it was facing me directly I felt it tugging on my soul My sweat ran cold I could hear you. Even through closed doors Your off-tune hums came through Almost as if you were right behind me I close my curtains. And the noise stopped Leaving a disturbing silence in its absence Unlike the quiet of the city streets Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. I did not allow myself to take any comfort in its cold grasp I instead walked up the creaky stairs to my room My paranoia was palpable With my heart beating out of my chest Not a drop of blood went up to my cheeks I secured the door behind me with a steamer trunk Tucking myself into the corner of my room Lantern still in hand I prayed it would be sufficient to ward you off I remained like this for the next two hours Merely watching the moon in the sky to ease my shaken nerves My eyes grew heavy. There were only a few more hours till sunrise Having heard no noise nor having seen a single sight I drifted into sleep. A slumber in which only nightmares appeared In the dream, I was walking toward an invisible spirit It was led by a being unlike anything I had ever seen It had no eyes Only a mouth that split its face into two Practically hanging by their chin I followed this being for what felt like years Through the deserts, the poles, and the forests I walked and I walked My feet bled yet I could not stop Why not, what was I chasing? At the top of a bell tower My legs collapsed from exhaustion I watched as they let loose a laugh that pierced the air like a mighty sword Then I awoke. Covered in a cold sweat, my lantern still shining With little idea of how much time had passed All I knew was that it was still night It was odd however The moon no longer hung low It was in the dead center of the sky Blinding me with its light Even overshadowing the sun itself! I heard a lock twist. From downstairs, I heard it Had you found me once again? As an answer to my question, the wooden stairs creak With one step and then another A dead ringer for a man gasping for breath I clutched my lantern. Please, I have done no wrong to you Leave me be! I shouted You pushed my door ever so slightly open. The steamer truck was barely a deterrent Your face reflected the moon¡¯s brilliant light But once it hit your black robe, I saw it morph into a vermilion-red With an unnatural arm movement, you forced your way in I could hear your joints pop and crack as you did I begged. Do not come closer I screamed. Get away from me! You did not listen Approaching me with your rawboned hands Your face for the first time twisted into an expression that I could not decipher You held my face. In an uncharacteristic tender way Your hands were cold but so very comforting Like the touch of a dark angel With your nails, you drew circles on my cheeks I looked into your eyes. They were deformed and hideous Yet, with each passing second they seemed to transform From dull unfeeling eyes to a glimpse of a greater truth One uncorrupted by the chill of bone or flesh A truth so grand that it repels even the Crimson Parade It was overwhelming. I felt my mind desperately trying to comprehend each facet of its multilayered meanings Then your eyes returned to normal Only now they much more closely resemble normal emerald-green eyes There was still a hint of their old divinity hidden below the surface I felt the fear slip away and embraced your chilling touch Slowly, but surely, you inched your fingers closer to my very own eyes I did not flinch. As you spread my eyelids open Using your middle and ring fingers to hold them down in place I felt no pain. As you inserted your long nails underneath my eyelids Only pressure as more of your index and thumb entered Scratching the back of my retina I felt it writhing. My eye socket squirmed at your touch Recoiling in a desperate bid to get away Like a mound of worms seeking shelter I almost dared to speak up But I knew better than to interrupt what is your ritual I do not know for how long we remained in that position All I knew was the feeling of your fingers moving with elegance and grace Like a seamstress putting their whole soul into weaving a fine silk Once you finally loosened your grip I was bathed in the twilight¡¯s pale light The world has been changed Well at least for me, it was A throbbing numbness radiated from my eyes But it did not take long until they adapted to your procedure Then I saw it. Your exposed veins twirling in the air With the grace of two ballerinas performing their final show From a silt that appeared in your palm They dance alone with no blood to be seen as they tie themselves together An amazing blue light bounced off them once they met the moons own I sat there amazed, basking in its glory They ventured back down into the silt Pulling out a vermilion robe not unlike yours You gave it to me. I could¡¯ve wept once I held the fabric in my hand Impossibly soft and luxurious A gown fit for the kings of yore A cloak fit for the aristocrats who choke on their wealth With no hesitation, I draped it around my body I felt your voice. You spoke to me with a voice that has never existed A language only known by the elder miners You asked me to recount my night As you held my earlobes ever so softly And so I spoke. About the cold crisp air The policemen on their patrols The falling August leaves And of course, the beautiful moon Oh, my! What a Beautiful night! NEW VICTIM IN THE RIPPER MURDERS Oscomin, Sunday, August 27th, 1871. Yet another murder of the foulest kind was discovered last night in the early hours of the morning. Howard Phillips, a respected professor and esteemed member of the City¡¯s Cave Research Council, was found dead by his close friend Alfred Chambers. According to Alfred, he had gone to visit his friend during the morning so that they could get breakfast together, only to find his body ripped apart and disfigured. On further analysis by the Oscomin Police Department coroners, they determined that this was consistent with a larger series of murders in the Lower Oscomin area. In which the victim is ripped apart into a bloodied mess with only two features spared from the brutality, those being the lobes of their ears and a pair of bloated eyes. In this particular case, they were both found together on the victim''s bedroom window sill above an unlit lantern, while the body was seemingly irreparably mutilated. Howard Phillips was a beacon of light in our community, a talented professor, and a beloved son. With his passing the world has grown to a darker place, our condolences to his friends and family. He shall not be forgotten from both this city and our hearts. His funeral service shall be held in Leogalnee Cemetery, and we ask all our readers to please take great care while traversing the streets at night. Rotted Pumpkin My skin rots. I can feel it spreading through this decaying body My body is not my own My eyes have long been taken Yet, I still see. I have nothing left but the thoughts inside a hollowed head And as I traverse the city streets unbothered by the monsters that roam freely I wonder to myself have I truly done such evil to deserve this I pray for salvation only to be met by an ebullient sounding trumpet In their eyes, I have already met my savior I feel hollow inside. As if I am simply an empty bag Sharing more in common with a corpse than a human being Even still, these legs scrape the streets with no input on my behalf A directionless vessel of nothing but molding flesh Hunters approach only to mumble a prayer and move on They do not hear my begging for a painless death Believing me to be deluded But I know best, this body has been forsaken Soon there will be nothing left My supposed body looks wrong. I should have the fox-like jaws of the other''s no? My voice should be sweet and beautiful Instead, I stand here diseased Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. An abnormality amongst freaks of bone and blood A pumpkin in a field of flowers I feel sick. The rot is spreading, I¡¯m sure of it! On the surface, nothing is wrong But I can see it I see it spreading through the crevices of the body I was lent I can even smell it! The stench of raw meat hits the nose attached to this desolate body And so now I look to the crimson sky The one with a million eyes watching the city burn And I pray. Fool as I may be I pray for my family My brothers and sisters My parents and their siblings For I fear I will still be living within this hollowed head as I unwillingly pay them a visit They do not deserve such a dreadful fate Show clemency, allow them to live within their own self-made prisons I pray for my very own flesh and bone once this night has commenced A life outside this hollowed head It¡¯s foolish, isn¡¯t it? In the end, we all shall decay and rot But I wish for more time To delay the inevitable for just one more day! Before the drummers line the streets to welcome your arrival Until the trumpets break the final seal Allow me to live in a body I may call my own One without the feeling of rot writhing through my veins A chance to prove my existence To let the world know that I once stood here on my own two feet and that I mattered! Beyond the rambling of thoughts circling through this head Away from the invisible rot and decay that burns under the flesh Outside the tainted eyes forced upon me from an unknowable figure I pray. That when church bells ring once more It shall be me who is taken away to somewhere else Lest I develop the hunger of the beasts which roam.