Etwas Gedanken

Black Manor - I

(Based on some elements of a spooky tale I heard recently)

For what I will say now, I expect disbelief and scorn
This story took place in the small town I was born
I will tell you the events, unexplained and bizarre
It was one late, dark night at a small, local bar
Two punks loafed outside, downing beer after beer
They talked about past misdeeds without any fear
They were no strangers to violence or blood spilled
Inebriated, one talked about a woman he had killed
The other slurred, “I had no problems killing her man
He probably never knew what killed him in his van”
“Stupid people say that their house is haunted now”
They cackled, “We are the only ones who know how”
“We had to wait a long time while we were in jail
Now we will be rich and no one will be on our trail”

Then they noticed a burly man sitting near the door
They yelled at him, “Don't try to listen to us anymore
Don't you even dare think of acting too tough
We will kick your old butt till you've had enough!”
The stranger glowered at them from his seat
In a split second, he had sprung to his feet
His eye brows were the kind one would not forget
Extremely thick and bushy, the two almost met
He had lifeless looking eyes and a long, curved nose
His wide jaws and thin lips made him look bellicose
Malevolent, ill tempered and mean seemed his style
It was quite impossible imagining him with a smile
His well muscled chest and arms stretched his shirt
Some patrons faced away, squirming with discomfort
His balled up fists hung with tension at his sides
As he reached the local thugs with few rapid strides

He thundered, “This is my challenge to you two
We fight until I kill scoundrels such as both of you
I choose the venue and you, the weapon of any kind”
They burst out laughing, “You're out of your mind!”
“But we think your arrangements are rather sweet
Say your prayers as you will soon be dead meat!”
They drove up to an old manor in a state of disrepair
Even the lawns and gardens had received no care
Weeds grew up to more than the height of their knees
Owls or ravens rustled in the foliage of the dark trees
Large, black clouds raced across the moonlit skies
Shattered windows looked like empty, vacant eyes

(to be continued...)


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Black Manor - I

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