Showing posts with label cemetery fence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cemetery fence. Show all posts

Friday, August 22, 2025

Elysburg Haunted House

"I don't mind skulls and bones," said Marie. "There's nothing even vaguely human to them.  I'm not scared of skulls and bones. They're like something insectile.  If a child was raised and didn't know he had a skeleton in him, he wouldn't think anything of bones, would he? That's how it is with me. Everything human has been scraped off these.  There's nothing familiar left to be horrible.  In order for a thing to be horrible it has to suffer a change you can recognize.  This isn't changed. They're still skeletons, like they always were.  The part that changed is gone, and so there's nothing to show for it. Isn't that interesting?"


- The Next in Line, Ray Bradbury




Friday, September 1, 2023

Thursday, April 20, 2023

Ancient Sorceries

The wind whistled at the skirts of his coat as the
air round him darkened with many flying forms
crowding upwards out of the valley. The crying of
hoarse voices smote upon his ears, coming closer.
Strokes of wind buffeted him, tearing him this way
and that along the crumbling top of the stone wall;
and Ilse clung to him with her long shining arms,
smooth and bare, holding him fast about the neck.
But not Ilse alone, for a dozen of them surrounded
him, dropping out of the air. The pungent odour of
the anointed bodies stifled him, exciting him to
the old madness of the Sabbath, the dance of the
witches and sorcerers doing honour to the 
personified Evil of the world.

- Algernon Blackwood




Thursday, February 16, 2023

Restless Hill Cemetery

Old Yew, which graspest at the stones
That name the under-lying dead,
Thy fibres net the dreamless head,
Thy roots are wrapt about the bones.

- Alfred, Lord Tennyson






More images here.

Wednesday, June 15, 2022

The Blanck Mortuary

There was at Auburn an old, abandoned cemetery. It was nearly in the heart of the town, yet by night it was as gruesome a place as the most dismal of human moods could crave. The railings about the plots were prostrate, decayed, or altogether gone. Many of the graves were sunken, from others grew sturdy pines, whose roots had committed unspeakable sin. 
 
Ambrose Bierce








Sunday, November 20, 2016

Friday, October 21, 2016

The Old Cemetery

Man, stuff like this beats ANY Christmas decoration...

Image by dlagz_art.



Monday, September 10, 2012

Monday, June 18, 2012

Halloween Dusk

Love when a moment of Halloween night is captured like this.


Image by BarbaraReyes.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Graves

There was a long spell of silence, big, aching, void, and then from the Professor a keen "S-s-s-s!" He pointed, and far down the avenue of yews we saw a white figure advance, a dim white figure, which held something dark at its breast. The figure stopped, and at the moment a ray of moonlight fell upon the masses of driving clouds, and showed in startling prominence a dark-haired woman, dressed in the cerements of the grave. We could not see the face, for it was bent down over what we saw to be a fair-haired child. There was a pause and a sharp little cry, such as a child gives in sleep, or a dog as it lies before the fire and dreams. We were starting forward, but the Professor's warning hand, seen by us as he stood behind a yew tree, kept us back. And then as we looked the white figure moved forwards again. It was now near enough for us to see clearly, and the moonlight still held. My own heart grew cold as ice, and I could hear the gasp of Arthur, as we recognized the features of Lucy Westenra. Lucy Westenra, but yet how changed. The sweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless cruelty, and the purity to voluptuous wantonness.

Bram Stoker



Image by Larry H*.