In a moonless, starry night.


    "Did you like eating that much John? Then you will have tons of friends underground, the worms and insects will share in this passion with you!"


    I am hauling some cadavers from the hospital to the graveyard and, as usual, I am cursing at many of the corpses.


    Many people do not deserve a grave, much less a crypt, these ungrateful, lazy, immoral, fat, and greedy bastards that they were. My only consolation for carrying out this grim work? Cursing their corpses and hoping that they are burning in the pits of hell.


    While doing this I thought I see something on the horizon, a faintly glowing, dancing white light. True,  it is pitch dark, and I maybe a bit drunk, but I remember his form to be strange, tall, big, strong, like some sort of giant.


    Then it disappears into the dark night, and I continue my work, while debating in my mind whether they will pay me or just give me good beating?


    I feel a thrill down my spine, my heart starts racing, the darkness becomes more menacing, but I continue as only a child would be halted in fear of the darkness.


    As time passed I start turning at every little sound, with my knife raised, ready to strike. After some more time I am just too scared to even check.


    I never realized how much fear can take over one’s mind.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    The chill darkness clings to me pulling at my clothes, lost in the pitch-black void, my eyes had gone insane? Have I gone insane? How have I reached this point? What is this liquid? I have lost control, I’ve given in, to the terror.


    Everything seems to be moving, everything is moving, the shapes morphing: becoming bigger, twisting unnaturally, and deforming in the worst of ways; The forest has become gloomy and nightmarish, to continue is no easy task. With every attempt to advance, my dismay only renews, in bitterness realize I must be not far from death.[1]


    I am feeling colder and colder, there was something lurking at the edge of the darkness. It is watching, I could feel it, chasing me, trying to catch me.


    It creeps forward, and I lunge towards my knife, but come to the horrifying conclusion: that thing is not of God’s domain. An enormous long dark cloak, covering who knows what, reaching and clawing ground; and the eyes! Those six damned, glowing white eyes that pierce through the soul and the mind, reaching the depths of my heart. Those damn eyes that bring the light, the light through the darkness, through the void and through my very soul.


    I find myself in a bed, I must have blacked out, my saviours tell me that they had found me on the riverbank in the swamp, far from where I last remember being, cold and white like death but still, somehow alive.


    I now promise myself to change my life, to do something, to use this blessing that the white eyes have given me, to live again: and write this poem :


    Light that shines through the darkness


    Light that shines through the void


    May your light be bless


    Eyes that look through the night


    Eyes that look through the soul


    May you see Twilight


    Beast from beyond


    Beast without god


    May you claim your birthright


    And bring End in starlight