Hound Of The Hills

In the dark of the night,
I can see his eye of fire.
Reflecting light from his eyes
Like my casket open wide,
Just for me to climb inside.

In the stillness of the night,
The hound of the hills waits in desire.
Waiting for me to spring his trap.
Then he jumps, snarls, and snap!!!
Lands on me and breaks my back.

In the dark of the woods,
He eats my heart, tears me apart.
Slits my neck, shreds my skin…
Then silence returns once again.

Advice to you, my friend,
Is to stay away from the hills.
Or you’ll be the hounds next meal.

Author's Note

"There was a thin, crisp, continuous patter from somewhere in the heart of that crawling bank. The cloud was within fifty yards of where we lay, and we glared at it, all three, uncertain what horror was about to break from the heart of it. I was at Holmes's elbow, and I glanced for an instant at his face. It was pale and exultant, his eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. But suddenly they started forward in a rigid, fixed stare, and his lips parted in amazement. At the same instant Lestrade gave a yell of terror and threw himself face downward upon the ground. I sprang to my feet, my inert hand grasping my pistol, my mind paralyzed by the dreadful shape which had sprung out upon us from the shadows of the fog. A hound it was, an enormous coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen. Fire burst from its open mouth, its eyes glowed with a smouldering glare, its muzzle and hackles and dewlap were outlined in flickering flame. Never in the delirious dream of a disordered brain could anything more savage, more appalling, more hellish be conceived than that dark form and savage face which broke upon us out of the wall of fog. With long bounds the huge black creature was leaping down the track, following hard upon the footsteps of our friend. So paralyzed were we by the apparition that we allowed him to pass before we had recovered our nerve. Then Holmes and I both fired together, and the creature gave a hideous howl, which showed that one at least had hit him. He did not pause, however, but bounded onward. Far away on the path we saw Sir Henry looking back, his face white in the moonlight, his hands raised in horror, glaring helplessly at the frightful thing which was hunting him down." -Sherlock Holmes (The Hound Of Baskervilles)

Reviews

[PrincessZeldaWannabe]

Really cool, brillant, and basically awesome!

[∂αʌ<..]

superbly written!...i like a good dose of fear sometimes...i really enjoy horror!

[Lily Mae]

Oh I love this.. great write...xx I could see it like a mini movie in my mind..x

[Tasha]

I enjoyed this, you did a good job.

[Fabric Pulse]

Spooky and somewhat different than your "normals," but I like it, it's very descriptive and as a reader you KNOW that it's good just by title alone even.

[misha]

I really like this poem. You did a great job on it!

[Helpless]

i agree, this poem is like a book with a story line that makes you see things with more than the pictures. scary and awesome!!

[Chloe]

First off, I love The Hound of the Baskervilles. Secondly, your work is once again awe inspiring. You write so beautifully and I'm so happy the get the chance to read and review.

[Sweet Emotions]

In the last line, houds should be hound's. Sorry, I'm a grammar freak. Anyway, I love the creepy picture this poem paints. I don't know what it means for you, but it symbolizes some personal experiences for me.