Shadows will breathe

Shadows will breathe
"Careful. Evil has a way of making friends with the good and dragging them into the darkness." ~ Dr. Al Robbins

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Monday, May 29, 2017

I Need Noise...

This is what I'm listening to this week....


Thursday, May 25, 2017


This is a short story I wrote a little while back.
I decided to start the short midway through Johnna's life in her new place, kinda like we were only getting a glimpse of what really was and what would be; a snippet, if you will, of someone's fear.
I hope you enjoy it's creep-appeal.

House For Sale
Nightmare #41:

It wasn’t until the third mortgage payment, that Johnna knew for sure – and that’s when she began to work longer hours, leave the lights on all night, pray a bit more.

After six months in, Johnna knew she had to move.  There was no more denying it.  She realized this when the ceiling cracked and splintered without cause; when the various power outages could no longer be explained; when the shadows started to play peek-a-boo.

She could feel the eminent danger swelling up in that haunted house like hot air in a balloon.  So, she called the realtor and made arrangements; called a friend and packed what she would need for the next couple of weeks.  She went to bed that night, pleased that she would be free of this awful place by morning’s light.

Hours later, Johnna awoke with a jolt.  She sat upright in the bed, surrounded by darkness, unable to focus. 

She fought to slow her heart rate and struggled with the confusion of reality.  Her mind wrestled with a faded dream…or nightmare…or noise?

What was it that got her attention?

She heard it again.   

An odd, gurgling sound filled the dark room, sounding like a bullfrog by its pond. 

The noise stopped.

Another minute of silence passed.  Then, the gurgling again.  This time it was closer to her and the bed.

Johnna’s heart continued to race; beads of sweat trickled down her hairline and before she could grab for the lamp on the nightstand, it grabbed her. 

It took hold of her forearm, just as she reached for the light switch.  Its grasp on her was firm and cold - freezing, in fact - as though someone had placed a frozen slab of meat against her skin.

Her eyes - now one with the darkness - saw it, or rather a reflection of it in the dresser’s mirror.

Johnna shook her head furiously, like a child refusing to eat vegetables, hoping to rid herself from such a hideous nightmare. 

But she was awake now, wide awake, and she was not alone.

Johnna whimpered, the beginnings of a shriek gathering in her voice box, as she watched herself in the mirror - helplessly.  This dark, decrepit figure of the shadows came out of the wall, reached around her shoulder with its other creepy arm and placed its bony hand over her mouth to keep her from releasing her scream...  

written by: 


Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Are They Out There?

Find GIF on

Do you believe?

Are aliens for real?
Or are they just a product of science fiction?

Comment below.
We want to know.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Mark These Words...

Find image on this Tumblr page


Monday, May 22, 2017

Running From the Devil...

My new favorite jam.
A huge Thank You goes out to Tay who suggested I check them out.
I am so glad I did.


Thursday, May 18, 2017


A little poem for the dark hearts out there...

Their Intentions 

They try to break me ~

The darkness, wanting to take me ~

Evil, trying to make me ~

Hell, dying to bake me.

written by: Deevious

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

May Contest

***This contest is closed***
We have a winner. 
Congrats to Creepster Kristen. 

This month's contest is freakin' awesome.
Don't win just one book, win all three in this Asylum series...

Just comment below.  
Be the first Creepster to post your name and the author of this series and all three all yours.
Good luck Creepsters!

And as always, please consult the Contest Rules before you agree to take part in the contest.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Creep On

Image found here


Friday, May 12, 2017

Stay Tuned...

I feel a contest coming on.
Keep posted to this blog, it's going down next week!


Thursday, May 11, 2017


It's rainy and damp where I am today.
The kind of lazy day to stay inside with a good book or do some binge-watching of your favorite show.
That's why I decided to share this short story - Downpour - because it's a dark and dreary tale, heart-breaking even.
Maybe you've read this one of mine before?  Maybe it's your first time?  Or maybe you liked it enough to give it another read?  Whatever the reason, here is today's  #throwbackthursday post...

Nightmare #157: 
It was a good day for a storm.  The clouds rolled in and hovered, almost like a spaceship, over the small, forgotten town.  The late afternoon grew muggy and the air hung damp and electric. 

Devin pulled the weathered hoodie over his head.  It felt good on him, soft and familiar.  He was relieved to find that he still appreciated something, even if it was for a brief moment.  He checked the front pocket for his smokes and slammed the door shut behind him.  He shuffled through the narrow hallway and down a flight of steps, the untied laces of his boots clinking against the chipped linoleum.  Once outside, he breathed life into a cigarette and tossed the used match stick to the wet pavement.  It sizzled.

He pulled the strings on his sweatshirt, tightening the hood around his face - eager to hide his bloodied lip and black eye - and took off in a near sprint.  He scurried down the street, wasn’t sure where he was going, but sure he needed to put as much distance between him and that shabby apartment – and his ridiculous father – as he could possibly put between them.   

A slow drizzle blanketed the town; this added to his misery.  The last of the sun was snuffed out by storm clouds and an insatiable rumble roared over the mountains.  In the distance, lightning fell from the skies.   

As he ran from one storm towards another, the thoughts raged through his mind.  How long would his father continue to use him as a punching bag?  When would his mother come back for him?  How much longer until he broke?  How much more could he stand?  Only a couple more years and he’d put this whole stupid town behind him.

“Only a couple more years,” he spoke the words out loud, trying to believe them.

On the outskirts of town, Devin finally paused to catch his breath, and coughed another cigarette to life.  The rain came heavier now – turning into a deluge - and he fought with the ground beneath him as it turned from sidewalk to open field.  He slipped a few times, almost wiped it once, but caught himself on the corner of a sharp turn sign.  He chuckled aloud.  Seems he always had to fight to keep from falling.  It was a constant struggle to remain grounded these days. And he wasn’t sure how much fight he had left in him. 

If any.

He was so tired of fighting.  Every single day there was a fight he had to show up for…

He had to fight his teachers because he could never clear his mind long enough to concentrate; had to fight his classmates because he didn’t have the right kind of clothes, the right attitude, the newest technology; had to fight his father simply because he continued to breathe.  He was an outcast.  And he was so tired of always getting it wrong, when everyone else always seemed to be getting it right. 

A horn blasted him back to reality.  Devin jumped as a dark-colored sedan flew past him.  He tossed a middle finger behind them, hoping the driver would see it in his rear-view mirror, turn around and confront him.  Then, Devin could put the boots to him.

Or her.

And hopefully there would be a family in the vehicle and he could put the boots to them too.

All of them.    

And if he failed?  Even better.  Then they could beat the shit out of him.  Maybe beat him near death or even cause his death.  Then, he wouldn’t have to hate anymore.

It seemed that’s all he could feel.  All he could relate to these days.  And the anger swelled up in him like a balloon taking on helium.  It was the only emotion that killed the numbness. 

He wanted to cry.

Wanted to break down right there on the side of the road.

Let it all pour out of him like a fevered sweat. 

Perhaps someone would stop and take pity on him.  See all the bruises he hid so well.  Call him out and take him away from his asshole father and locate his mother.  Then - with his mother at his side - all would be right with the world. 

A long, deep-throated horn blasted past him again.  Devin jumped higher this time; his heart racing with the speed of the coal truck as it whizzed past him.  He threw his soggy cigarette at the back of the coal bucket, its tires kicking up shale and tossing dirt into Devin’s eyes.

He coughed the dust from his lungs.

Spat the dirt from his mouth.

And in that exact moment - for some reason announced only to Devin - he snapped.  

He had had enough. 

Enough of the damp air and the cold rain.  The loud coal trucks with their filthy exhausts.

He had enough of people.  Couldn’t understand them or their hatred towards him.

Had it with his dumbass father; his bleak future; his mother, who wasn’t coming back for him.

He lifted his face up and out of the hoodie, letting the cold April rain hit against his skin.  It burned his fresh cuts.  It stung, but felt good. He closed his eyes and nodded to an unknown accomplice.

He heard the roar of its engine.  The banging of its bucket as it hurdled the potholes of the curvy roadway.  He fumbled for his smokes; shook only slightly as he lit its end.  He breathed deep, refused to cough and bellowed out a yell.  He screamed out as loud as his lungs would allow him.

Maybe it was his one last effort to be heard.

Maybe he was just tired of holding it all in.

He could smell the diesel exhaust.  It was close now.  He hoped its driver wouldn’t grieve too long.  He thought of his mother.  Bet she’d miss him now. 

The truck barreled up and over a slight embankment.  Devin took one more drag from his smoke.  He exhaled and stepped onto the road.

Wednesday, May 10, 2017


Find image and artist on DeviantArt

I love this piece by artist, fallenangel-089, from DeviantArt.
It's called Monsters and rightfully so.
It makes me want to know the story.
Who was the monster?
Why the blood?
Was it self-defense? Murder? Madness?
And the placement of those blue butterflies make me sad and happy at the same time.
The color and shading of this piece is perfect.

Any thoughts?
Post them below.

Monday, May 8, 2017

Darkness Gonna Break Your Light...

I am a huge fan of this rock band and I stumbled onto this gem recently.
Check it out for #MusicMonday and let me know what you think.
Post about it below.

Friday, May 5, 2017


Thank you
Thank you
Thank you


And have a great weekend!

Thursday, May 4, 2017


A blast from the past...

If I stood a chance of surviving the night,
I would go to you and I would never leave your side.
But I am afraid I'll bring the evil with me.
And I would never forgive myself -
How could I?
If I tainted your world with my darkness?

So, I will be gone from you.
Far gone and far away.
And yes, I must leave you with a scar,
And have you hate my soul for all eternity.
Because you see,
You are all goodness.
You radiate the light,
And you will save so many,
And I must keep you burning bright.
I must...
I must keep you burning bright.


Forgive me.

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

My Reflection?

I feel like I can relate to this one...
Image found here

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Book Club

Greetings, my Creepsters and fellow book nerds.
Welcome to the Night Lights Book Club!!! 💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀📚💀(I thought if I included a lot of emojis it would better explain the importance of this group. 🤓) 

For the month of May, I have chosen this dark read by Amy Lukavics ~  "Daughters Unto Devils".
This book came up in conversation with a friend (Thank you, Jessica) and I told her I would check it out.  Well, I am ever so grateful for her suggestion because it is fantastic.  
It is dark and disturbing and a great debut novel for Author Amy.  If you can make out the tag line written by Cat Winters, it says "Imagine Stephen King writing "Little House on the Prairie") 😳 Wtf?!?!  Well, this intrigued me even more to read it.  
So, Creepsters, find the time and check it out.  I would LOVE to know what you think of it and if you were - maybe - a little frightened by it?  A bit disturbed?  Did you find it unnerving? Unsettling?  Would you recommend it to a friend? And just how many dark hearts would you give this read? 

My rating?  "Daughters Unto Devils" = 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤