"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?"
Friday, August 22, 2025
Friday, December 13, 2024
Friday, September 29, 2023
Wednesday, September 27, 2023
Cemetery Mists
Friday, September 1, 2023
They Never Found The Body
Thursday, April 20, 2023
Ancient Sorceries
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
Tuesday, April 11, 2023
Friday, February 17, 2023
Ashgrove Manor
Thursday, February 16, 2023
Restless Hill Cemetery
Wednesday, June 15, 2022
The Blanck Mortuary
Sunday, November 20, 2016
Haunting Small Spaces
Friday, October 21, 2016
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Sunday, April 19, 2015
Monday, September 10, 2012
Monday, June 18, 2012
Halloween Dusk
Love when a moment of Halloween night is captured like this.
Image by BarbaraReyes.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Friday, December 9, 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*.