Necronicon

 

The house behind the trees lay still,

A monster, in its sleep,

The shutters fell in tatters, lay

In shards there, at its feet.

The paint had gone, one hundred years

Since proud, it gleamed on high,

The Keep, the Tower, Necronicon

Had seemed to sweep the sky!

 

But deep within its weathered gloom

A heart beat, faintly heard,

Some dim and evil echo that

The world outside had purged,

The door swung on a single hinge

And vegetation lay

Across the rotting carpets that

Had served it, yesterday!

 

While in some dim-lit parlour

Sat an old man in a chair,

Surrounded by the ghosts of those

Who were no longer there.

He sat beguiled by phantoms who

Assailed him in the gloom,

While memories of women, spat,

Rained curses on his tomb.

 

But in an upper bedroom sat

A girl who longed to play,

Who'd lost her parents, and her home,

Had shrugged, but come to stay.

Her grandfather, the only sire

This pampered girl had got,

She sat before the cobwebbed glass,

And plotted, this Charlotte!

 

She had the evil eye of him

Who sat down in that chair,

For blood is blood, and evil is

The product of despair,

Her mother disappeared when she

Was no more than a child,

And she had worn her father down,

By inches, running wild!

 

The old man laid the law down,

Sat her, facing down his stare,

She had the arrogance of youth

And shrugged, she didn't care,

She took his money, wasted it

And didn't pay a bill,

The larder soon was empty and

The power was cut, as well.

 

She spent her nights out clubbing,

Met an older man, like her,

They whispered in the corners

And they plotted by the stair,

She took him to Necronicon

The old man faded fast,

'Beware, Charlotte', he muttered,

Or you may well be the last!'

 

'This house has shared in horrors

That you couldn't even dream,

I've tried to keep its secrets, but

The very rafters scream,

The cellar is a blasphemy

I'll pay for in the fire,

For pleasures sought in youth are terrors

Age does not desire.'

 

They poisoned him that very night,

And scampered round the hall,

Uncovered hoards of jewellery,

Of notes, and coins of gold,

Went down into that cellar of

Necronicon, the Tower,

And saw the boxes, side by side,

Each padlocked in that bower.

 

Five boxes, just like coffins but

Made simply, out of deal,

The fifth was lying empty, like

A box without a seal,

Her roguish friend grinned hugely

Smashed each padlock with an axe,

And she had giggled as he struck,

Egged on his crude attacks!

 

They opened up the first in line

And shrank against the wall,

The body of a woman lay

Quite naked, overall,

She'd torn the hair from out her head

And gripped it in her fright,

For this corpse lay in terror there

In her eternal night!

 

The second casket opened up

Revealed another girl,

She'd been quite shapely in her time,

She wore a single pearl,

Her fingers, ripped and torn they were

And bloodied, as she'd scraped,

In desperation at the lid

Before her soul escaped.

 

The third lid they threw open and

She screamed, this surly child,

She hung against the wall, and peered

Could not be reconciled.

'I know that face, my cousin

Who was sent to Canada,

We never heard from her again,

I thought she'd married there!'

 

The fourth box they approached with dread,

And lifted up the lid,

Her roguish friend drew back a pace,

His face, from her, he hid.

'My mother,' sobbed the grey Charlotte,

And fell into a swoon.

'I wondered why he'd wanted her,'

He said, 'that day, in June!'

 

Charlotte woke up inside a box,

The fifth that lay down there,

He'd fixed the padlock firmly, whispered low

So she could hear:

'A man once paid me well to spike

Your mother's gin and lime,

I didn't know she'd end up here...

Believe me... It's a crime!'

 

'I have no option now, you see,

But you'll be safe in there,

You won't get out to tell on me,

And frankly, I don't care!

Some men like necrophilia,

Dead bodies on the mat,

I'll promise you at least one thing,

You will be spared of that!'

 

Charlotte lay still and waited 'til

All sounds of him were gone,

He'd left her clothed within that box

And now she squirmed around,

Her mobile phone was in her skirt

She phoned, and listened well:

'This number disconnected, you

Have failed to pay your bill!'

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[LisetteCanWrite!]

Very creatively written and bone chilling with some wisdom embedded itno this I found.. the story had a fierce rhythm.. that really carried well. A tale with several messages including Karma.. in the end the selfish and evil girl lost even with technology.. with the simple fact she failed to pay her phone bill.. which was the one thing that could have saved her... twisted humour with a moral message... definitely pertains to today I think! The stanza that really caught my attention was:

'This house has shared in horrors That you couldn't even dream, I've tried to keep its secrets, butThe very rafters scream, The cellar is a blasphemy I'll pay for in the fire, For pleasures sought in youth are terrors Age does not desire.'

In this story evil sprouts from evil.. leaving the offspring at the hands of the same fate.. thinking themselves witty, calculating and smart.. found themselves in quite the opposite of their yearnings! Brilliantly portrayed.. I'll have to remember to pay my phone bill.. lol.. just joking! Great Job

[R J Askew]

Like the image in verse three. That will be me surrounded by failed poems. Also like verse six very much. There must now be thousands of households where a 20-something with a BA and an MA in some obscure subject is still hanging out at home three years after qualifying eating the old man's supplies, rent free. But my favourite part is the ending with the poor leech being cut off, silenced. Not that I have anything against arrogant, sponging youth.

[LJW]

Perfect. Astoundingly so.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I thank God for you and your talent every day. We are all so blessed to be able to read your wondrous mind.

This tale is so amazing; and as much as I love poetry, I forget that I'm reading poetry when I read your poems.

One of my favorite bookplates reads, "Books fall open ... you fall in." That's true! Your poems are like that as well. I start reading, and I feel as if I have stumbled into the hallowed rows of Edger Allen Poe's library. You are beyond!

Love,

Linda Marie

[Ellen Hammond]

Outstanding! You have such a knack of telling a gruesome tale with wit and irony. Everytime I start to read one of your poems I sit in awe or your talent. You hook with in the first line and hold my undivided attention to the very last word. Very creative with a message and/or a warning for those who plot and scheme to get their own way without considering the consequences of their actions.

[Lena M. P.]

Oh what bitter irony. Defeated by her own lazy greed. You are truly the master puppeteer of prose.

[Valentine]

David, another one of your terrific writes that I read on another site..You have such a gift for this kind of story telling, I wish I had your memory and gift of story telling like this..lol and God bless..Kathie

[Mark]

How callow the youth of today are, and how ignorant of the consequences of their actions, and of the similar fact that every generation's youth have been similarly callow and ignorant! As ever, David, a searing tribute to Mankind's selfishness and shortsightedness.

[E. A. Fielder]

This was very long but I enjoyed it! I thought it was pretty creepy.

[Holly]

First of all, your talent, stole my breathe. Amazing. And then it was almost perfect, there were only a few minor places where I would maybe say to trade a word or two, but I could never imagine coming up with something that would still fare so beautiful. Thank you for such a pleasurable read.

[emmajoy]

Oh grief, what a fearsome piece of writing! Your poetry really has the gothic touch, the creepy 'wow! what an ending' and is, throughout, marvellously rhythmic. This has a very unique touch, the ending is a great surprise yet, follows through the previous stanzas.

I don't know if this is supposed to have metaphorical touches re technology as per Lisette's great review .. all I know is that this poem rings with building tension and the girl got her come-uppance in the end.