In the damp dark of midnight, ‘neath a moon that gleamed blood red,
A horse with strangely glowing eyes strode through with measured tread.
The rider that he carried, with a sword tucked in his belt
Had ne’er been seen within this wood, and none knew where he dwelt.
The blood that dripped from sharpened sword smeared ‘cross the horse’s flank,
The mixture of the sweat and gore was putrid, and it stank.
The blackened teeth that filled a mouth that formed a grusome grin,
Were shrouded by a ghastly nose, grotesquely aquiline..
Close at hand in a cabin, o’ercast by a demon’s spell
Dwelt a fair angelic maiden who never could dispel
Her fear of shadow’s danger, of lurking, creeping things,
And of the morbid darkness, with the horrors that it brings.
She hears the distant hoof beats, her heart shrinks up in fear,
For at the hour of midnight there should be no horses near.
An eerie wolf-like howl is heard, then gurgles to a stop,
Cut off by a wooshing sound and sword’s resounding chop.
Her trembling fingers twist the lock, a hideous laugh rings out.
She screams and races up the steps, to find her last redoubt.
A deaf’ning crash of splint’ring wood, then footsteps on the stairs,
She listens caref’ly at the door and hears, "I know you’re there."
Her blood runs cold, her breathing stops, she hears a scraping sound,
The raspy voice calls out again, "Now lookee what I’ve found.
A pretty maiden dressed in white, as pure as pure can be,
All alone here in the woods . . . there’s only you and me."
One more crash, the door is gone, a final chilling shriek,
It echoes through the midnight woods, the last she’d ever speak.
A cackling laugh, the claw-like hands draw back the gleaming blade,
It flashes through the torpid air as ‘cross her throat it’s laid.
She crumples to the plain wood floor, her lifeblood pooling there,
And hov’ring o’er the fallen lass he’d taken unaware,
He quickly drops to bony knees amidst the spreading gore,
Then sated by his gruesome feast he slips back out the door.
He climbs up on the scrawny horse and slaps it ‘cross the flank,
Then disappears into the wood through air that’s wet and dank.
The sound of hoof beats fades away, the evil out of sight,
And tainted darkness drops again and swallows up the night.
The jackals prowl the woods tonight, searching for a meal.
They venture to the cabin door to see what they can steal.
Creeping ‘cross the cluttered floor, they’re drawn by fresh blood-smell.
They feast on human carrion, like creatures drawn from hell.
Gold trophy winner
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WOW Grandpapa...you wrote a dark piece and it was incredible!!! The best of luck to you in the contest! 
lol Poor maiden .Good luck in the contest !!
