Under the Crimson Moon

“So, why do you work here?” She hung her head & stared hard at the plate, with the burger sitting still upon it. He followed her gaze & realised that she hasn’t even touched her food yet. How long have we been talking, he wondered.

“I had no other option” she broke the silence in a metallic voice. Her sudden change of voice surprised him to some degree. He fell into deep thought, as was evident through his closely knit brows.

“Would you like to order something else, sir?” He looked at the face of a smiling waitress. Her eyes were too far apart, he noticed as was his wont. The brown hair lacked texture unlike her counterpart sitting right across him at the table. “No” he shook his head, “Are you going to eat it?” His eyes focused on the woman he had been talking to for about an hour. Her lips parted as though she was going to say something but not a word escaped her throat.

“Creep” the kind, average looking waitress said aloud. “Excuse me?” His puzzled expression didn’t answer much queries since the waitress had already dashed away from the two of them, taking frantic steps & disappearing behind the counter in no time. All this happened too fast for him to take into account how uncanny things were that night.

“Wow” he rolled his eyes feeling awkward about the inexplicable little encounter. “It’s okay, she’s always like that” her kind smile burned a hole in his heart. It lingered upon her sweet face for more than a minute & then turned into something horrible. The more attention he paid, the more he felt confronted by the plastered smile across her face. She stared in his eyes listlessly. He thought he saw her pupils expand, almost devour the white space around them. The smile she wore was getting devious each minute.

It wasn’t too late to notice the change in his surroundings but he didn’t. The creamy walls of the restaurant looked dirtier than they had upon his entrance. A pall of dust & hunger hung in the atmosphere, making it too hard for him to breathe.

“I should get going” he could sense an unusual fear & the need for some fresh air stirred within him. The lights began to dim. “So soon?” she tilted her head to the right in an unnatural position, mirroring inhuman ways. “I still haven’t had dinner yet!” She displayed her white set of teeth as her smile definitely looked wider this time, stretching from one cheek to the other. Placing her clenched fists upon the table, she let out a hiss. He held his breath & froze in his chair. A concourse of all things insane & wild, thirsty for blood mingled right before his eyes.

The woman rose swiftly & cackled with her mouth wide open showcasing saliva dripping down to her chin. Her sharp fangs were an accessory to that unholy smile. To add to all this, the lights began to flicker incessantly doubling the doze of horror he was to endure.

He inched back in his chair, his best move so far. “Are you ready for dinner, Jim?” She could smell fear all over him. His whole life eddied like a dark mist around his head as his eyes closed & he slowly fell into a deep sleep.

“Jimmy, boy wake up!” Was that gravel in his mouth? He could also taste a bit of grass. “He was too heavy for me to drag” he heard a voice that sounded unusually familiar. “You just had to turn him over & drag, sweetie” He heard his father speak. “Don’t call me that, you’re not my father!” The familiar voice retorted. “Alright, go get some water” he heard footsteps stomping away in a direction he couldn’t make out. “Ghost, fangs” the words he managed to utter sounded like an apocryphal story, too insensate to believe. His father leaned over him with a pleasant smile, though it seemed quite incongruous considering the situation. “Its okay, I’m here now” were the last words he heard before retiring in his black castle of disquietude.

The ceiling was unlike any he had seen. It wasn’t his bedroom, he knew that for sure. So, where was he?


I never imagined myself writing a Vampire fan fiction yet here I am shaterring all my previous notions. For some reason, I’ve always disliked fan fictions. I don’t even like reading them. But I suppose Carmilla & Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde along with one of my favorite horror movie ‘Crimson Peak’ was all it took to get down to writing this piece of fiction wholly inspired by some exceptional characters.

Thanks for reading!

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Amorphous

She was almost free,
Her form turning hazy.
A permanent memory,
Slowly fed to normalcy.

She was almost there,
Residing in his head.
Yet now her secret lair,
Began to wither instead.

She was never confined,
With unpredictable ways.
And little did he realise,
That she had gone away.

-Nameera.


Sometimes we deliberately cling on to people who left us long ago through memories & reminiscents. The problem arises when they hamper our growth toward other spheres in life. Memories slowly fade but their impact lives long enough to strangle us while we live.

My Umbrella

It was one fine morning until signs of downpour marked the vast expanse called sky. Mr. X decided to take his umbrella along with him. To tell you the truth it doesn’t really matter if it’s raining or not, Mr. X always carries his umbrella whenever he goes out into the world. Firstly, it keeps him from getting sun burnt & secondly, it obviously protects him from rain drops. That’s just the way he likes his life; protected & safe. Every time he sees someone passing by without an umbrella over his head, he rushes over to the person & starts telling him the benefits & uses of walking under an umbrella, particularly the one he carries; a red one. Now to the strangers dismay, he doesn’t bother to find out whether he asked for his opinion or not. What if the stranger just wants to enjoy a little drizzle?
One day Mr. X, the man with the red umbrella stumbles upon Mr. Y, the guy with the green one. Both of them start arguing furiously about how their choice of what prevents raindrops from making them sick is righteous compared to the other. Amidst their ferocious attempts to bring down one another, the sky darkens & black rain drops fall on the face of earth. Each drop caters to a black ocean that consists of tides arising every now and then as umbrellas of various colors strengthen it. But this black ocean shouldn’t surprise you, right?

The colorful umbrellas I’m talking about are various religions we are born into. Some people like Mr. X & Mr. Y make the process of co-existing a tiresome one. Advices are offered to those who don’t share their beliefs or follow different paths. The black ocean of hate is the result of not letting our differences subside.


My inspiration for this post comes from a blogger who decided to share some of his personal experiences in one of the posts. Make sure you check it out & the blog, of course.

Even most people from my religion are biased towards others. I wonder why we can never put that aside and coexist. Interested people will join themselves, what’s the need to convert?

If there’s a message to be spread, it’ll spread by itself as people are observant.

We’re all human.

Let’s start believing in ourselves first.

Peace.

Bharath Upendra.

Impulse

I often wonder if crazy,
Happens only to few.
A reality so damn hazy,
And the aftermath; anew.

As long as the strings,
Of sanity are attached.
The thoughts that bring,
Darkness wouldn’t hatch.

Yet I constantly imagine,
Letting sanity slip away.
And giving in to a legion,
Of underlying craze; if I may.

I could create a door,
And set insanity free.
Satiate it forevermore,
What a beautiful, distorted reality it would be.

-Nameera.

A Conversation

It had a slow beginning,
Struggling for time to pass.
But the clock began ticking,
And silence couldn’t last.

Your hobbies and your job,
Found a mention after long.
For once, don’t be a snob,
It’s alright if you’re wrong.

Curious eyes open wide,
As you narrate some tale.
It was an impressive ride,
Down your memory lane.

Your mind can sense interest,
Directed through gestures.
Emotions once suppressed,
Now find an outlet to rupture.

From witty one-liners,
To the past so dream-like.
All conversation lingers,
To help soothe the mind.

-Nameera.

Converations can also, besides research, studies, writing etcetera be a profound source of wisdom & knowledge.

Engaging in the exercise of the mouth, as I like to call it will refresh your mind & thought process.

The Dark Side

I succumb to the walls,
Retiring all my beliefs.
My fears standing tall,
Dance upon my relief.

The ceiling is tainted,
As shadows pirouette.
Their tunes are painted,
Along hues of contempt.

This conjunction joining,
Two different parts of me.
Is a neat & willful catering,
To a darker side you never see.

-Nameera.

Three Day Lyrics Challenge: Day 1

I’m so grateful to have been nominated for this amazing challenge! All thanks to Ridiculous Bharath for his curiosity 😁

Let’s get down to it without further adue.


Deathbed, all I’ll see is you

The life may leave my lungs

But my heart will stay with you

That little kiss you stole

It held my heart and soul

And like a ghost in the silence I disappear

Don’t try to fight the storm

You’ll tumble overboard

Tides will bring me back to you.


This beautiful song by bmth never fails to mesmerize me every time I listen to it. Even though it’s about a boy & girl falling in love, I prefer my own interpretation. I always thought this song was about me falling in love with death & being at peace with it.

P.s

This is a really peaceful song & you can listen to it without having to go through the usual metalcore, deathcore stuff if it isn’t your thing.

Pride

By river Styx He swore,
To let him have his fate.
His son’s pride had bore,
A ripe fruit so very late.

In a manner quite haughty,
He talked with might & will.
Telling friends how mighty,
His father, the Sun God is.

They refused to believe,
The word of a mere child.
In angst the boy heaved,
A sigh marked with pride.

All he saw was the Sun,
His golden opportunity.
To avoid being shunned,
From his meek company.

His mother showed the way,
To her son’s death wish.
To not venture & stay,
Was her last, unheard plea.

He was more than glee,
To see his blood arrive.
The son, deterred uneasily,
Demanded for a ride.

Now this ride, you see,
Was not a simple one.
Helios was no more glee,
For he had come undone.

He had swore by river Styx,
To grant his inane demands.
Now that everything was fixed,
The boy wanted the God’s stand.

In the end he lost control,
And fed himself to the flames.
No flesh of his was left to mourn,
He burnt in the name of fame.

The fruit so very ripe,
Was all he left for us.
A sickness called pride,
Will never be enough.

We’ll want more & more,
As it lures us into it.
The end is forevermore,
I swear by river Styx!

-Nameera.

A year ago I read a book on Greek Mythology titled, ‘Stories of old Greece & Rome’ by Emilie Kip Baker on Project Gutenberg. It’s a really good book for beginners, just so you know.

The poem is based on the following mythology:

“Phaethon, challenged by his playmates, sought assurance from his mother that his father was the sun god Helios. She gave him the requested assurance and told him to turn to his father for confirmation. He asked his father for some proof that would demonstrate his relationship with the sun. When the god promised to grant him whatever he wanted, he insisted on being allowed to drive the sun chariot for a day. Placed in charge of the chariot, he was unable to control the horses. The Earth was in danger of being burned up and, to prevent this disaster, Zeus was forced to strike down the chariot with a thunderbolt and kill Phaethon in the process.”

Source.

The problem was that Helios swore by river Styx & hence he couldn’t deny what Phaethon wanted.

The lesson to learn from this story, as I like to think is that pride usually blinds our senses & logic. Sometimes, to prove ourselves right we end up burning in the fiery flames of reality much like Phaethon.

The questions we need to ask ourselves today are:

What are we trying to prove & most importantly, to whom are we trying to prove?

In the grand scheme of things what matters is how we lived our lives, not how we let pride drive our chariot straight into the blinding light & crash it headlong into flames.

The Skeleton in my room

It was one of those days when I decided to let sleep get the better of me. Around that time I also started getting lucid nightmares but the night had passed peacefully & it was almost evening.
Suddenly I woke up, not physically but mentally. My mind was wide awake but I couldn’t move my body. I tried to open my eyes but the lids simply wouldn’t budge. I thought I knew what was coming next. Little did I realize that there was something else in store for me this time.

For quite some time I struggled to muster enough strength to open my eyes and in the end, my view was crystal clear. What followed next was the strangest occurrence of my life.

I lay motionless in my bed for about a nanosecond. You see, what was in front of me was mind-blowing. It stared at me with its burning hollow eyes.

The skull it had for a head was on fire & it wore a black cloak. Its bony hand was placed on my chest, restricting my movements.

What would have been your first thought on seeing something like that?

Well, the top three things on my mind were:

1. Can this be really happening? I mean, could it be that the Ghost Rider is really real? Wow, hey Nicholas Cage, Sup!?

2. Okay wait it could also be a dementor from Hogwarts.

3. No wait, what if he’s Malak-al-maut (Angel of Death) & he has finally come to take my soul?

When the third possibility hit my mind I began praying in my heart though I couldn’t move my lips.

I also made sure to notice my surroundings so that when this is over I can make out whether it was just a dream or something real.

The first thing I noticed was my purple curtains. There was faint sunlight pouring in my room filling it with orange light. I could even see the finer particles that appear due to Tyndall effect mostly near the window pane which was quite close to my bed.

It must have lingered for about 5 seconds or so and then there was a sudden sensation of someone letting go of my chest. I sat upright in bed with a clear picture of what just happened.

My room was almost orange & I could see Tyndall effect making itself evident near the window.

The very next night I saw the bony hand again while I was half-asleep. But after that everything stopped (I had had other experiences too, besides the one with the skull).

I don’t know if this was just a nightmare or a real incident but I was never afraid of these occurrences. Honestly speaking my courage comes from experiences of this sort, not on my own.

I always had(have) a hard time believing in ghost stories. Even the skull, apparition or whatever it was didn’t scare me as I would normally be, imagining about it.

I’d like to add the fact that I wasn’t depressed when these things started. I was around 14 & was having the time of my life. All this began out of the blue which ultimately led to my disturbed mental condition(particularly related to sleep). This in turn became the sole reason for my lucid nightmares.

,,

I hear you’ve been saying,
That I’m never there for you.
I’m sorry for not staying,
Others were waiting too.

I hear you’ve been putting blame,
On me whenever you mess up.
But know that I’m in a race,
Against hours, seconds & minutes.

I see you undermining me,
And I give you chances incessantly.
But you never seem to believe,
That I won’t wait, I’ll leave.

I know you still don’t get it,
But soon enough you’ll realise.
When your days become unfit,
You’ll call me by my name- Time.

-Nameera.