31 Days of Halloween; day 18: Short Story of Halloween Vocab
Welcome to the 31 days of Halloween, for the next short coming days of the 18th, 19th, and 20th, you guys are mine. *Insert Evil Laughter Here*. But back to this, in small details I didn’t know what to do for the Halloween month blogger/videos fun. And finally, with some searching . . . I found a vocab list of all words based around this month and I made a short tale with these words.
With that, I hope you enjoy this spooky fable, that you read with the following rules:Â the lights off, at night, maybe a horror movie playing the background and have a fun read. Goodbye for now.
Never be afraid of the unknown, or as we call it; the afterlife that is made for that are ready to pass on, alarming it might, it happens in time for us all.
It becomes as an alien feel that rattles the insides, like jelly. Nor could an angel understand what is there, beyond oneâ€™s judgment, coming forth as an apparition to oneâ€™s only deceive self is, be, damn in thought of believing it was all real.
Even for so dear to us astronaut cannot fully escapes, even in space away for what happens here on earth. Once autumn comes, it is anyone game at this. Best to swift and precise as a ballerinaâ€™s footing if one wants to survive the days to come.
What is inside of us, the trepidation of a batâ€™s calling into the sorrow hours of obscurity. Where that a beast lies in rest until viewing itself to others, it could been as bizarre to others, but at time, all bets are off.
All sight block in pitch black lighting, void of everything that was bright and full, so hue to that of a black cat coming to give bad luck, and much more. Let it be warned not to become that as blood.
Temptations may rise as scorching as torment, bloodcurdling as a hidden pain etches through the body. Eyes set, for the bogeyman comes to claim those at their weakest. As their apprehension can be found nowhere else, but within the bone under the skin, near the nerves of fiction, but that doesnâ€™t take away from the facts, only cofounding it more.
In a quick boo of terror, as it rides on a broomstick. Echoing disturb of a cackle is never far to hear.
Hide if one wishes to, a cadaver or another obscure notion that fending away from all of this, would work, when even the small lives are fooled by just a piece of candy. And thus have cape of panic wrap around them, in a chocking issue.
Carve away the skin, hopes to remove on what sends shivers down the bristle, it will change nothing, but only drive them closer. Soon an empty casket is all that is left for the yellow beings, with purrs of content of a cat mocking at them so, in what could be only seen as a laugh to others.
A bubbling cauldron awaits its final dose of hex. A glow so faint, but peculiar through the winding ways of the cemetery of where it rests. Chilling in a cold ice, that bends the weather around it so, by just one glance.
A sightless cloak that will wrap around, blocking the bolt from the blue, even if only for a moment, but a moment that some would never dare waste; careless or not, they will try. The hollowness and awful shark smile of clown will find its way through the dim. Tangled in a cobweb of lies; forevermore, lay only still as they tighten from sudden motions.
Discover a coffin and quick, it made the best place to live throughout the lasting days, a corpse or two is common to find, but lack nothing of the need to hide. As for those who stalk may be nothing thrive in a costume, to end life, is another ordeal.
Twins they may be, forth come in garbs as a cowboy and cowgirl, shooting with glee with guns not of theirs. Only in slight, the creepy concept, is that they encrusted in wine-colored empathy of those who once them, but no longer them, for the guns or children.
So as sadly they are not the only things walking about the lands. For as prize all want not a crown. Within the heart of the crypt, there will be a dark reward. A vacant smile will say so.
Darkness will be that of forever recompense, in falsehood all what is left to know be dead on the spot, be that as a demon who mixes with saint and sin.
Hear for the devil. A plain as torture of a devilish express amusement at all misfortunate of the sheer disguise all try to hide, when in end, there is no point in doing so. But they do so anyway, for that is just natureâ€™s way.
Be so dreadful, shallow of ash-gray skin fading away in death. No fails in a simple dress-up will change anything around.
Come through of an eerie cry, soft and void of love. For not even-so of an elf wonders of the endless pries that go with every word spoken. Enchant to the ears, a melody made from the soul that broken over time, and the sea of acidic language.
When that of chances, evil will do as it pleases to stop everything, at all likelihood to do so as the eyeballs drop from the sockets of those who have given up. No matters of an eye-patch to cover it, a sign of failure it will remain as thus.
Design the colors in ways to fend them off, by all means, a style of face paint done right holds off those of non-living. A fairy will whisper gentle of lore far past what one can do. In the end, fall to their knees of hopelessness.
Depression could only what is the wall to bring all this, with sharp fangs sunk so deeply in. they slowly drain all the fantasy away, having a dull and pour shell in its wake. Negated eyes peeled of nothing but fear, fear of nothing.
Yet that of a proud firefighter will bend to the smoke. A flashlight; as his last weapon through the thickness that more than just a fog of fatality and carbon base organs.
Fright all as a guide, a fruitless one, but one all the same. Becoming frighten away by all else for there is nothing else, leaving all but nothing more of a frightening small wounded cub among the wolves to feast about it.
To Be Continued . . .