Issue 45 – Werewolves

A cinquain composed by the Were-Man (before a paw-shattered mirror)

“One word
only truly
describes the shameful state
halfway between werewolf and man:
Monster!”

By David Edwards

Lupine
By Harris Coverley

a gap in the clouds
moonbeam—the briefest of howls
a spilling of blood

Killer Queen
By DJ Tyrer

Lycanthropic blood
Porphyria, claws and fangs
Killer Queen stalks night

Howling for the Test of Winter
By Christopher Collingwood

Test the shaping wolf –
the rage of winter,
defiant of the man,
a cabin lost to nowhere,
tragedy carves words,
‘freed man’ above the door;
snowflakes set upon
its fur, clinging with a
a deadly calm, the fireplace
crackling inside, eyes
burning, the door left open;
footprints dig deep
into the snow, the beast
drawn out for the hunt,
free to rage in solitude,
endless snow fields – too distant
for the winds, moon evoking
wild intent, unburdened morality,
pounding through the snow,
bitting branches, howling
in fever; the cold contains
the worst, nature concealing
the smallest prey, the chill of the
winter keeping tally;
catching sent, the wolf is born –
a raw instinct, the animal engages,
instilled by the moon, it races
against the cold, mile after mile,
tree after tree, over the white horizon,
travelling beyond humanity;
until the wild can be no
wilder – the deepest forest,
staggering the beast gathers
strength, stained breath clinging
to unnatural life, panting by
a rotted log, exhaustion almost
summoning its human state;
a sniff – a growl, something
behind the rock, mouth salivating,
it peers over – ‘howling’ in fury,
the trap is sensed, a deer’s head impaled
upon a stake, inner betrayal,
the words ‘freed man’ carved
upon the wooden stake; the wolf feels
the moon receding, death is coming,
gnawing at the meat, it gathers strength,
wild instinct returns,
it heads back to the cabin –
and the test begins

Beast Within
By DJ Tyrer

Magic conceals fur beneath the skin
A masquerade to hide the beast within
By night revealed to stalk its prey
A pious man by light of day
No faith, no force can those jaws withstand
No weapon held in mortal hand
A bullet blessed or blade anointed
Perhaps might slay the one appointed
By the Devil as his hunting hound
Assuming the beast can ever be found
Ravenous, unstopped so many shall perish
That the tale none shall need embellish

Originally published in Siren’s Call issue 34

A kid who is a werewolf
By Mark Hudson

Last night a full moon gleamed in the sky,
I awoke with sleep escaping my eyes.
I found a book upon my shelf,
a werewolf tale by someone else.
A book I got free at the local library,
I snatched it thinking it might be scary.
I noticed the targeted age was ten,
I read it in one night in my den.
I wondered what a kid would think,
but then again, I’m not a shrink.
But I wonder how the editors decide
what kids can read, or else they will hide?
In the first chapter there is a boy
living on a farm with a life of joy.
When a monster comes and kills his mother,
enough to scare kids to hide under covers.
The boy then turns into a werewolf, too,
but he is the hero in this twisted zoo.
The book is fantasy, nothing is real,
but what in it gives it it’s appeal?
Are some of the scenes just G-rated gore?
Is it something that kids have seen before?
Is it just a preview of future junk?
Is this what you read before you turn to punk?
If you want to know, I’ll tell you the truth,
I’m the wolf man, I’m the youth.

Discover more of Mark Hudson’s poetry here

The Howling
By DS Davidson

Like Little Red Riding Hood
Stalked in the woods
Unseen pursuer dogs your trail
Start to mean that literally
As howls haunt your flight
Headlights in the distance
An offer of hope
Flag down the car – phew!
Driver is strangely hairy
Smiles a fanged howl
His pack mates reach the road
No fairy tale ending for you…

Issue 36 – Monster Mash

Monstrous Meetings
By Frank Coffman

“See how these children mock us, avatars
Of we who would confound their foolish play
With horror if they met US ‘neath these stars,”
The Dead Undead vampiric wight did say.
“Truly, they are quite foolish This Night to tread;
Full moon, by chance. I will choose one to slay,”
The man-wolf answered. “His joy will turn to dread
When he beholds these fangs ere break of day.”
“Yes. Must know the truth,” said the assembled man,
Reanimated by the force of lightning’s might.
The three moved forward. The children screamed and ran…
But three young souls returned not home that night.
One gave his blood, One a beast’s maw sated,
One was crushed from life. Misguided play thus fated.

Listen to Frank reading his poem on the Science Fiction & Fantasy Poetry Association “Halloween” webpage

A Strange Night at Loch Ness
By DJ Tyrer

Hallowe’en on the shores of Loch Ness
Mist creeping steadily through the Great Glen
Something else creeping, too
A chupacabra over from Mexico
Having heard that Highland Cattle
Were tastier than goats to suck
And, that haggis might be to its taste
Past the still waters it went
Avoiding villages and trick-or-treaters
Hungry for its prey
When, suddenly, the waters churned
A long eel-like neck uprose
Two great eyes looked at the chupacabra
Uncertain what this foreign thing was
Not a nuckalavee, that was for sure
Nessie, for it was she
Decided the only way to resolve her dilemma
Was to have a taste
Bent low and swallowed it whole
The chupacabra becoming dinner
Rather than diner
Though Nessie was unimpressed with the taste
And, sank back down below

The Roof Party
By K. A. Williams

Count Dracula looked around the roof at people in their different costumes – vampires, goblins, ghouls, witches, warlocks, zombies, and werewolves. He saw a familiar hairy face and maneuvered through the crowd.

“Wolfy, I’m glad that’s just a costume.”

“Good to see you Drac, my friend. How have you been?”

“I am well. Van Helsing’s descendents still think I was staked over a century ago. How are you?”

“Okay, but I’ve spent a lot of money on clothes and shoes. Now I buy them used at thrift stores. What are you doing here?”

Dracula waved his hand around. “All this free food. How can I resist such a feast? I wasn’t going to kill anyone, just a few sips here and there. I don’t want to be noticed. But you, Wolfy, will find it impossible to restrain yourself. There’s a full moon tonight.”

“I’ll be fine. The weather forecast is for thick clouds with rain after midnight. So you see – ”

Wolfy stopped talking because light was now visible from the moon which the clouds had uncovered.

His clothes and shoes tore as his shape changed. Soon his outfit was rags. His body became furry and his human face with the fake hair transformed into a wolf’s head. Jaws filled with sharp teeth opened and he howled.

“I know you can’t understand me, Wolfy,” said the Count, “but you sure know how to ruin a party.” His food was now screaming and fleeing down the stairs. He sighed. “You can’t trust the weather forecast.”

The wolfman growled and sprang at Dracula who quickly changed into a bat and flew off to hunt for another Halloween party.

Ends

A Goblin Kidnapped by a Martian
By Celine Rose Mariotti

The two goblins
Daedalus and Icarus
Hid out in the moonlit night,
The sounds of witches and wizards
Was all about,
Vampires were coming
Out of their coffins,
And a light beamed from above,
The sky lit up
A spaceship landed,
The Martians came out,
Little green men with antennas,
And green hair,
Yellow eyes,
Big flabby noses,
Daedalus in his black and yellow costume,
His magic wand in his hand,
Shook the other goblin,
Icarus who was dressed in a blue and white costume,
With broken wings
Shook at the sight of the spaceship,
They hid behind a huge stone,
But the Martians spied them,
Seized them,
Dragged them out to their spaceship,
Shot them with a laser beam,
Before they knew it,
Up, up went the spaceship,
They awoke hours later,
Unaware of their environment,
They called out,
“Where are we?
Where are the ghosts?
Where is the candy?
Where are the horror movies?”
“We’re Martians and you’re on your way to Mars!
Happy Halloween!”

When Duat is Full…
By Harris Coverley

The moon and planets and stars at last aligned and allowed my rise from darkest Duat, not four thousand years too soon—yet when I exited my sarcophagus I found a most curious thing.

To break out of the crypt was simple enough, to walk out into the sun, to feel it even through my wrap of decrepit linen.

Nobody greeted me, but that was expected.

In the far distance I saw slaves panicking and running—indeed, panic and run!

Fear me!

But as I walked down the river it became apparent that something was amiss.

The people ignored me as they scurried about blindly, some in chariots of metal and crystal, while others, stumbling about, smelling fouler even than myself I must admit, took whatever chance they could to take bites out of the others as they fell screaming to the ground.

At last I reached the largest city on the river, a magnificent polity of vertiginous towers, all aflame and crumbling, the mass alarm ongoing, the slaves in riot.

Was this all for me?

Had the terror of my awakening sent the whole realm mad?

I stood in a square and announced my presence: “I am Naarhotep the Boundless, most exalted wizard of Great Aegypt, and you will obey me!”

No response was given—the chaos continued, flesh was ripped, blood streamed, and the odd stumbler attempted to take a bite out of me—the insolence!—but I swiftly tore him in half and the others got the message.

However disappointing this was for the most powerful man in the universe, ruling the world was not as pressing an issue as was finding my love, sweetest Nauhet, her soul transmitted body to body through the centuries, her innate beauty always rising to her surface.

Across a burning realm I searched for her, incanting spells, tossing away these mindless dregs, until, across the sea, I found my dearest Nauhet reincarnated near the half-buried ruins of Troy—an insensible, staggering cadaver like the rest!

But…no matter!

With her chained at my side I can take her occasional gnawing on my dried flesh, and I will rule this earth where the dead now walk the way they do in Duat…the ma’at ruptured, the pharaohs of all nations vanquished, and I will take my chance, the moon and planets and stars permitting…

The End