Four Letter Friend - Children Should Not Play With Dead Things
BUY SUBSCRIBE
BUY SUBSCRIBE
The Nativity
The mouth of the alleyway gaped like the throat of a howling wolf: dank, dripping, dark and plagued by a warm, sickly breeze. A rusted sign swung on its hinges, flakily advertising ‘The Dangerous Olde Man Inn’, its movement casting a convulsive shadow on the crumbling cobbles below and the rhythmical creaking of its hinges playing a suitable accompaniment to the ghostly moans of the wind and the false, sordid gasps of whores from the brothel opposite.
The sound of hooves crashing onto stone rent this spectral chorus asunder as a carriage slipped from the night drawn by two wild-eyed stallions, columns of steam pouring from their sweating flanks and nostrils flaring as the hooded driver hauled them to a halt outside the inn. As the horses stamped and snorted, bloodshot eyes rolling in their massive heads, the door of the black carriage silently opened and a silver-tipped ebony cane emerged, knocking thrice on the inn’s dishevelled wooden door.
It opened immediately and a skeletal, hunched figure stood in the doorway, its twisted form silhouetted in the flickering candlelight from within.
"Thou hast come, my Lord," it rasped, its voice a keening mewl like the death rattle of a gutted cat.
"What hast thou for me?" came the response, a husky growl.
"A friend, my Lord. A friend indeed," grated the quivering hunchback as it leaned forward warily, clearly terrified of the presence in the carriage, a sizeable wicker basket clutched in its claw-like fist.
"A friend?" growled the disembodied voice. "What dost thou mean, a friend?"
A vast hand, encased in worn black leather, grasped the handle of the basket, swiftly drawing it into the darkness of the carriage. The hunchback drew back, as if relieved to be rid of this sinister package.
"I mean what I say, my Lord. A friend," it said, inching back inside. "A four letter friend".
The terrified freak slammed the door shut, leaving the carriage as an ominous shadow in the darkness of the alleyway. Its door slowly closed, the stallions bucked and reared, squealing menacingly as the black-hooded driver cracked his thick leather whip, and within seconds the carriage had vanished into the night leaving nothing but a hideous silence and the trembling reflection of the moon in the pools of rain where the cobbles had been displaced…
www.myspace.com/fourletterfriend
www.fourletterfriend.com
The sound of hooves crashing onto stone rent this spectral chorus asunder as a carriage slipped from the night drawn by two wild-eyed stallions, columns of steam pouring from their sweating flanks and nostrils flaring as the hooded driver hauled them to a halt outside the inn. As the horses stamped and snorted, bloodshot eyes rolling in their massive heads, the door of the black carriage silently opened and a silver-tipped ebony cane emerged, knocking thrice on the inn’s dishevelled wooden door. It opened immediately and a skeletal, hunched figure stood in the doorway, its twisted form silhouetted in the flickering candlelight from within.
"Thou hast come, my Lord," it rasped, its voice a keening mewl like the death rattle of a gutted cat.
"What hast thou for me?" came the response, a husky growl."A friend, my Lord. A friend indeed," grated the quivering hunchback as it leaned forward warily, clearly terrified of the presence in the carriage, a sizeable wicker basket clutched in its claw-like fist.
"A friend?" growled the disembodied voice. "What dost thou mean, a friend?"
A vast hand, encased in worn black leather, grasped the handle of the basket, swiftly drawing it into the darkness of the carriage. The hunchback drew back, as if relieved to be rid of this sinister package.
"I mean what I say, my Lord. A friend," it said, inching back inside. "A four letter friend".
The terrified freak slammed the door shut, leaving the carriage as an ominous shadow in the darkness of the alleyway. Its door slowly closed, the stallions bucked and reared, squealing menacingly as the black-hooded driver cracked his thick leather whip, and within seconds the carriage had vanished into the night leaving nothing but a hideous silence and the trembling reflection of the moon in the pools of rain where the cobbles had been displaced…
www.myspace.com/fourletterfriend
www.fourletterfriend.com