Love for the Creature

They told her not to go,

along the hillside,

past the cemetery,

simply because you never know,

what lurks in the dark.

Spirits have been known to show,

beneath the moonlight,

among the gravestones,

but she simply laughed

and off she went.

The night was lovely,

the moon was full,

as she reached the top of the road,

something slippery,

something unknown,

made her feet go flying

and she tumbled down the hill,

through a gap in the cemetery fence.

Thump went her body

and then she blinked,

some kind of odd room,

with lit torches against the walls.

Surely she hadn’t tumbled,

into a crypt,

looking about with relief,

there was some kind of wooden door

or so to her it seemed.

Then she heard a tap, tap, tap,

like someone bored,

tapping their fingernails,

against some wood.

The hair stood up on her neck,

as she turned toward the sound,

there he sat so tall and proud,

his bald head ending in a long thin face,

the chin rather sharp,

eyes like burning embers,

blood-red lips

and he looked at her and said,

“Good evening, thank you for dropping in”.

As she listened and saw his malevolent grin,

she backed up doing a tip-toe dance,

toward that wooden door,

but when she had given distance,

between him and her,

there was no longer any door there,

at least she didn’t think so.

Then he blew her little mind,

when he said,

“Not many drop by, not any more,

and it is so lonely down here”.

With that he laughed a maniacal laugh

and his eyes dangerously glittered.

In horror she realized,

she had fallen into a crypt,

it was just her and this creature,

alone perhaps forever more.

Then the thought came,

to tell him of things he never wanted to hear

and she found herself,

telling him of the world about,

of love, of happiness,

on and on she babbled.

He first looked startled

and then simply surprised,

then he tapped his long fingernails,

on the wooden table beside him,

laughed that awful laugh and asked,

“Would you, could you love me?”

At first she wasn’t sure if she had heard right,

then quickly she replied,

“Of course, I could love you”.

“In fact I think I already do”.

and yes, for some inexplicable reason,

she felt compassion and something more,

for this creature living alone in this crypt.

As soon as she had thus replied,

he sat up taller and looked into her eyes,

at that moment behind her,

the wooden door creaked open

and she felt the cool night air.

“Do come and see me some time”,

the creature said.

She slowly walked over to him

and took one of his cold hands,

with the amazingly long tapered fingers

and the sharp, long nails.

It was so dry and papery

and she held it to her heart,

“You know I do love you, you were meant

to be loved”.

His eyes gleamed and he smiled a most ghastly smile,

“Then you must come visit me often and I’ll tell you tales from my past”.

She found herself agreeing

and then quickly ran to the door and out.

The wind had picked up,

as she made her way up the hill,

she looked back at the crypt,

that looked dark from this side,

but she knew that creature was there

and she shed a tear for his loneliness.

She knew that even when she got home

and later in the light of day,

she would think about him

and their strange friendship.

She would return,

the following night,

with a bottle of wine,

to sit curled at his feet

and listen to the tales of centuries past –

while hurting for and loving this strange creature of the dark.

Latest posts by Rasma Raisters (see all)

Rasma Raisters

I am a poet and writer. I write for many different sites online. I have two published books of poems on Amazon - Poetic Thoughts Fly and On the Wings of Love.

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