A facade in blood.
A memory without moments.
My sin it sinks in.
Her words cut like a knife across my throat.
A devil for the first day she said, an angel for the last.
It was bitterness.
It was hate.
For thee who holds my hand, won’t sow my seed.
The bitch.
How broken I am.
How flatulent I have become.
Yes you heard my words true.
Even a demon cry in the end.
So take this breath.
Spread your wings.
Don’t sin.
Don’t break.
Don’t leave a mark.
Tiresome and worthless.
For the end to the start.
Whispered sonnets in my ear.
Words wrapped in feelings I fear.
Tales of darkness.
Tales of dread.
Mistrust.
Murder.
Seas of red.
Blood.
Innards scatter before me.
I see the future I dare not see.
I witness my fate.
I see my doom.
The beast of darkness.
It’s crude womb.
I’m reborn in its image.
I’m darkness personified.
The killer.
The betrayer.
Awash in a sea of red.
My rebirth.
My death.
My forever face.
My darkness.
My sin forever more shown to me as it takes me in within itself.
My twisted child.
My written words.
My trap.
My fate.
I want to ask you a question.
It’s nothing personal I swear.
It’s more of a question about how aware you are of the world around you.
For you see, there is something dark just outside the reaches of my vision.
Something with shape.
Something with form.
It hasn’t always been there.
Because I remember a time when it was not there.
But now all I ever see is something following me.
Slowly edging closer.
Reaching out from another plane.
Breaking through to seal our doom.
Tell me you see it.
Tell me it follows you too.
Don’t let it just be me.
Don’t let me be the only one.
That the wickedness.
The beast.
The first-born child.
The Roundhead, it still comes.
A minute,
turned into a moment,
not forsaken is that time,
but time that is to be forgotten,
within this bindings,
within this soul,
may not be what was sold,
but what was stolen,
a look,
a glance,
a moment or a minute,
not was,
but will be,
not said,
but heard,
a moment,
a minute,
a spoken word,
with a burning desire to be heard.
Vain is thy voice,
bitter is thy words,
hate bathed in blood,
sin breathed in,
contempt for oneself,
glass across the flesh,
open up,
separated,
while you desperately hold on to nothing,
writhing and wrestling,
with what dances inside,
the devil,
the demon,
the nightmares,
of who you hide.
“Let’s go back to the beginning, before you saw the two of them on the street. Tell me what happened after you walked out the gate,” says a poorly shaven overweight man with dried mustard in the corner of his mouth.
“I-I, I walked out the gate tightly holding Abby’s lead, she gets excited sometimes, a real retard around other dogs. Clare and Saffy followed a few moments later and we proceeded to walk up towards Mount Street. It was like it always was, the usual banter between the two. I mean they’re both cut from the same cloth so their conversations sometimes bordered into the realm of nonsensical blabbering. It was just before the football grounds when I saw them. I-I don’t know why I noticed them at first, but it became apparent as we drew closer to each other that they were starting towards me,” he takes a shallow breath before biting down on his bottom lip.
“Tell me about the interaction you had with them when you knew they were watching you, what did you say to them?”
“I-I said nothing , l-l-like I told you before. I noticed they were looking at me and then it all went sideways very quickly. They kept walking away from me, but still stared with piercing eyes that seemed to glow in the night light, it was then that I noticed they seemed to soak into the darkness of the street and then look as if they glided across the road, toward my, my…” his lip trembles as he stares vacantly at the floor.
“And this is when they attacked?”
He stares silently ignoring the question as if it had never been asked.
“Mister Towns!” The man asks sternly, forcing Marty out of his stupor, and he looks up into the man’s empty blank eyes.
“Tell me what happened next?” He asks.
“It came and we all died?” Marty says as a tear rubs down his cheek.
Wickedness weaves its volatile thread,
twisting around and around thy throat,
I beg for release,
I cry for peace,
but nothing but the darkness ever comes,
nothing gives me peace from my burning sin,
that slowly eats away at me within,
what sin is this,
what wickedness did I sow,
does it matter,
do you care,
do you really want to know,
for sin can burn the purest heart,
sin can infect,
sin can repeat,
sin can take your life and make it,
incomplete.
Don’t take my words for granted,
I’ve been known to lie from time to time,
the wickedness of pulsating penance courses through all I am,
depleting life,
sucking marrow,
spreading disease,
patronising words of wisdom,
from someone far more fucked than you,
dare to stand against me,
when in the end you’ll come to realise,
I am already you.
Sinner,
base my hate on you,
it feeds me,
makes this suffering worth something,
don’t presume to judge me,
I am not without my own darkness,
I am locked within this lie,
created by the one before me,
the one who cursed me with this totem of hate,
lick the pain,
for soon,
you will suffocate yourself,
as I have,
for my tomb,
will soon be yours.
See me,
see all of me,
don’t look away,
don’t allow your fear to control your emotions,
even though fear is the only emotion you feel,
see me,
see all I am,
allow your eyes to witness my naked form,
in all its beauty,
see me,
see everything that is,
take my hand and journey with me down into the depths of your own self,
and allow me to see all of you.
The world looks different through its reflection,
twisted and perverted,
dark and subversive,
how bitter it is to swallow,
we breathe night and day,
we struggle to survive,
we yearn just to live,
only to die in the end,
on a journey towards whatever we let ourselves believe,
because we can’t accept,
that there’s nothing after this, otherwise,
what’s the use in living.
Minuscule responses from an expensive ad,
money poorly spent,
desperation is now all I have,
they can sell it for you if you have,
a face that they all know,
but when your nothing,
a nobody,
you’ve got to sell your soul,
sell it fast,
sell it cheap,
become a massive slut,
for if you wish to dine with riches,
you’re going to have to suck a lot of cock.
Gaze beyond and see the bitterness of sin,
how it has misshaped all that I am,
twisted my light into darkness,
can you see?
Behind my eyes it hides,
waiting in the tears I shed,
wishing for a tomorrow that can never come,
for my yesterday is battered and torn,
and I am something else,
existing in this form.
They lie,
those wicked words of testament,
winding their way through,
twisting their way around,
tearing their way in,
to complete the sin,
that was made when you were birthed,
so softly was your start,
how bitter was your end,
come bathe in this,
sit down and sing,
for there is nothing here for you,
but the darkness of forever.
Moments lost in eyes of lies,
the mildness of their cares,
shines from within their withered formes,
sickness of life,
desires whispered from dreams of the sin,
my grotesque monster,
that hides inside,
waiting to devour me,
from the inside out,
for you see,
I do not fear the beast that is irrevocably my own self,
even though I wish I did,
for then I would stand a chance to survive.
Pasted from pieces of my dismembered mind,
are pictures of all the things I left behind,
my sanity lost in this nightmare,
of what was,
what is,
what may,
lights flicking,
my head-splitting,
a beast emerging from within,
my sin given flesh,
my sin given form,
my light adrift,
my life torn.
Sticky fingers,
wrapped in twine,
tightly twisting it’s wicked way around all that I am,
without and within,
is this my curse,
my sins final hand,
the game,
for I am,
I am not,
did I dig this hole?
Or was it dug for me?
it matters not anyway,
for the soil falls upon me,
and the darkness creeps in.
In the darkness of my mind,
I fly,
away from all I am,
from this world that has imprisoned me,
within this husk,
you ask the questions,
I shudder,
I whimper,
I submit,
I give in,
let the sin wash me under,
let me,
be then nothing,
I’ve always been.
You see,
what you choose to see,
you look through me,
as if I was nothing,
as if I wasn’t even here,
segregate the diseased,
leave them to rot,
twisted times leave little space for error,
but they’re happening,
you threw us together,
you left us to die,
because you didn’t understand,
we weren’t dying,
we were becoming,
and now,
we’re coming for you all.
—
AVAILABLE NOW
DEFINITIVE EDITION
Marty Towns didn’t know the story you’re about to read, a story he believed he had written, would free an ancient evil that was trapped just outside the edge of our reality. An evil born, without sin, without a soul, that hungers for ours to fuel its one desire, vengeance on he who imprisoned it. As each victim falls, they rise again as the beasts dark herald, diseased by its touch, forced to foretell of its coming to the next who shares its words, the next to feel its cold embrace.
And as the world struggles to survive against the beasts path of destruction, another battle is fought, in-between the words of the story, on another plane of existence, and it will be this battle that will decide who survives.
Will you dare read it? Will you dare share it?
Will you become the next victim of,
THE ROUNDHEAD?
Definitive Edition Bonus Features
The Original Roundhead Short Story.
The Complete Blog Version Of The Roundhead, Including All Preludes and Poems.
The Dagan – A Bonus Short Story Inspired By The Roundhead.
Facing Your Fears – Original Concept-Art By Yazgar. (paperback only)
Fear The Roundhead – A Preview Of The Sequel To The Roundhead.
DON’T MISS OUT ON THE FULLY FLESHED OUT VERSION OF THE SHORT STORY, THAT SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF READERS!
Available to buy in ebook or paperback format from Amazon HERE, (please make sure your geographical location is set to your country so you can purchase a copy) as well as all other ebook suppliers.
For further information on all current, and future releases, pop over to the upcoming release page.
Stay creepy my fiends,
Matt
Sinners beware,
the beast who feeds on your fears,
is coming for you,
it’s hiding in the shadows,
waiting,
salivating,
do you feel it?
Do you see it there,
gazing at you,
looking through all you are,
at it,
your secrets,
the things you hide,
for it sees all,
it knows all,
do you see it now?
The closer to death you are,
the easier it is to see…
—
AVAILABLE NOW
DEFINITIVE EDITION
Marty Towns didn’t know the story you’re about to read, a story he believed he had written, would free an ancient evil that was trapped just outside the edge of our reality. An evil born, without sin, without a soul, that hungers for ours to fuel its one desire, vengeance on he who imprisoned it. As each victim falls, they rise again as the beasts dark herald, diseased by its touch, forced to foretell of its coming to the next who shares its words, the next to feel its cold embrace.
And as the world struggles to survive against the beasts path of destruction, another battle is fought, in-between the words of the story, on another plane of existence, and it will be this battle that will decide who survives.
Will you dare read it? Will you dare share it?
Will you become the next victim of,
THE ROUNDHEAD?
Definitive Edition Bonus Features
The Original Roundhead Short Story.
The Complete Blog Version Of The Roundhead, Including All Preludes and Poems.
The Dagan – A Bonus Short Story Inspired By The Roundhead.
Facing Your Fears – Original Concept-Art By Yazgar. (paperback only)
Fear The Roundhead – A Preview Of The Sequel To The Roundhead.
DON’T MISS OUT ON THE FULLY FLESHED OUT VERSION OF THE SHORT STORY, THAT SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF READERS!
Available to buy in ebook or paperback format from Amazon HERE, (please make sure your geographical location is set to your country so you can purchase a copy) as well as all other ebook suppliers.
For further information on all current, and future releases, pop over to the upcoming release page.
Stay creepy my fiends,
Matt