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Literature Text
She claws madly at the door, fingers raw and bloodied. Stains cover the mangled surface, etching in her message of fear and desperation. She longs for freedom and can't stand this torment anymore, the darkness has made her heart grow cold.
She wants to escape this prison so badly, she begs for the door to open, her hollow words echoing. She doesn't realize that the door is slightly open, that light is pouring in. But her chains are holding her back. Her walls are blocking the light from her sight. Her fear and pain are holding her in, keeping her confined in her self-imposed nightmare of loneliness.
She cries out to be saved, fights to be free. But she is still retreating further and further into darkness. The blood on the door, the entrance to her trap, shines bright, a burning pain to her withered soul. A message, carved out in desperation... Someone, please, somebody save me! She needs salvation from her plight.
She wants to escape this prison so badly, she begs for the door to open, her hollow words echoing. She doesn't realize that the door is slightly open, that light is pouring in. But her chains are holding her back. Her walls are blocking the light from her sight. Her fear and pain are holding her in, keeping her confined in her self-imposed nightmare of loneliness.
She cries out to be saved, fights to be free. But she is still retreating further and further into darkness. The blood on the door, the entrance to her trap, shines bright, a burning pain to her withered soul. A message, carved out in desperation... Someone, please, somebody save me! She needs salvation from her plight.
Literature
Coyote and Wendigo
Coyote traveled far and wide in search of interesting things to do. One day his journey took him farther north than he had ever been before. He discovered a small summertime village and decided to ask the people there for a place to rest.
When Coyote entered the village he could tell something was not right. There were no children playing outside. Few people were doing any sort of work, and those he did see were only engaging in it half-heartedly. Coyote approached a man. "Hello," he said, "I am tired and would like to find a place to rest for the night."
"You should not stay here," the man said. "Every night a monster comes out of the fore
Literature
wendigo.
All cultures in which the Wendigo myth appeared shared the belief that human beings could turn into Wendigos if they ever resorted to cannibalism or, alternately, become possessed by the demonic spirit of a Wendigo, often in a dream. Once transformed, a person would become violent and obsessed with eating human flesh. The most frequent cause of transformation into a Wendigo was if a person had resorted to cannibalism, consuming the body of another human in order to keep from starving to death during a time of extreme hardship or famine.
It's been weeks. Weeks. It
Literature
The Werewolf
With blood red fangs I release my cry,
Up towards the moon in the sky.
A beast of night I become,
Scaring human hunters numb.
In the forest they've lost their way,
And will not live another day.
Because their scent I have caught,
Them and the deer they just shot.
On the path now I can feel,
That I'm in for a tasty meal.
This is my forest and I rule,
My werewolf instincts my only tool.
My tongue burns for their taste,
Their bones I'll gladly turn to paste.
I'm right behind them, I can smell their fear,
Fear not my friends the end is near.
Dodging their bullets and ripping them apart,
Through their rib cage and to their heart.
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Sure. Let's call it that. Erm, so, this is my entry for 
So yeah. It's kinda iffy and it sounded a lot better in my head hah 
But thne again I'm not feeling all too well so you know. Ah, well, it's my submission!
Oh yeah the prommpt here was something written/ drawn on a door.
So yeah. It's kinda iffy and it sounded a lot better in my head hah But thne again I'm not feeling all too well so you know. Ah, well, it's my submission! Oh yeah the prommpt here was something written/ drawn on a door.
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Wow - nice poem.