Camp SC - Nikki Peppermint

Creepy, spooky windows that blindly stare
Hide the tale of the girl hung by her hair.
No death tale is without misery or torment
Especially when bodies are torn and hell sent.

Months, days, years, maybe centuries ago
Time has no meaning when the evil does blow.
Outside the rain-soaked sky torn asunder
By sharp, bright lighting and heavy, rolling thunder.

Through the dark woods the trees did bend
And the message was clear that they did send.
To the peeling jaundiced house with no eyes
Came one innocent and two full of lies.

Two men chasing, cursing, trying to harm
Into the house all ran, the fear in her raising alarm.
All through the mansion the spirits did wake
Eager to devour and their hunger to slake.

Innocence beware, it does not always preserve
For sometimes the dead choose not who they serve.
The evil, the sinful, the blackness, the foul
Cast forth the subservient with a screaming howl.

The two in pursuit were wrenched into shreds
By the gruesome, the wicked, the hideous, the dead.
Screaming, wailing, cursing, and in despair
Went the attackers down the long, bottomless stair.

Having made her escape to the very top floor
Her long braid swinging behind was no more.
It was snatched by the arms of the brass coat rack
Wrenching the innocent girl around and back.

In her previously benign hair she did become tangled
And over the landing railing she found herself dangled.
Choking, clutching, legs swinging in convulsions
The innocent girl died amidst ghostly propulsions.

So stay at a distance from the house with no eyes
Or meet with death, I tell you no lies.
Out of the house’s reach you must linger
To prevent a joining with the Grim Reaper.

~ By Nikki Peppermint

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