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I held the two pistles in my hands tight as my friends and I walked down the road. It was quiet. The sun was setting. And the world was at an end soon. "There!" I whispered to them.
"Wake up," Zayden said. My eyes shot open. "We have to barricade the doors and windows now," he said helping me up. We took what furniture we could and barricaded all the doors and windows.
I awake in a bed And a room I don't know It's eerily quiet And a stench starts to grow I place my feet on the ground But my knees are so weak So I shake them to wake them Until the blood to them...
Based on the character in Diablo and Diablo 3. Held against his mortal will, The devil couldn't match his skill, Instead, condemned to life unlife, He lay, ensnared, corrupt, in strife.
When the day light is gone and the night has arrived, From their graves they crawl, all the ghouls not alive.
I stood at the shore of a small island, the tide was lapping at my legs but I didn't bother to move, I was soaked through to the bone anyway.
I'm lying down again Deep in the cold dark earth A single bell tolls loudly To signify my birth For tonight is the night I'm creeping o-so slowly from the dank and dusty coffin Shaking dirt from...
Broken tombstones scatter the ground an erie silence surrounds The old decaying tree's branches no longer reach for the sky a single Black Raven listens to the undeads cry.
Buried under the earths surface, Pushing up daisies, Under the amber sun lights rays, Reaching one hand through the cold dirt, Feeling the heat tingling pale white skin, Breaking the silver lock...
Have you ever had to decide between who lives and who dies?. I am not talking about some shitty Playstation RPG. I mean in real life.
Hey ho the witch is dead, the living dead. Hey ho the wicked witch is dead. Hey witch who is the ho, I think you know that we know.
I pledge my life to the skull and bones On the flag above our bloody thrones. There is no light to muffle my ways, Because I lurk in the night and drift past the days.
They walk the earth forever bound, searching for our every sound. Tearing flesh to feed their pits, scrounging through the dead for leftover bits.
Inspired by the magnificent Weirdwolf and based on a conversation after his piece 'Walkers' It was the Zombapocalypse - about day 23 (Any later and zombies fall apart apparently) When who should...
Onward they came, ever onward, their ranks a mass of death. The foul wind that prevailed them, was enough to steal the breath. Onward they came, ever onward, bringing darkness ever near.