Phoenix_Tears
12-13-2003, 09:41 PM
Tell me what you think....
THE MADMAN OF BAKER STREET
I remember it like it was yesterday. Her scent, morning rain in June, her skin, sunlight, her eyes, like the ocean, her hair... ahh her hair, sleek and shiny, black as the raven. Let me tell you how i killed her.
It all started that fateful night in the pub, The one just off of Baker St. I had come to the establishment of my choosing for the night, the choice i'd made for the past thirteen years. At 9:00 pm, to be exact. I had come to have my usual, a scotch on the rocks and a hollow conversation, if it could be called such, with the faceless bartender.The hollowness of the "conversation" sickens me, oh how it sickens me.
It was this night, that she walked into my view. The way she moved...I was instantaneously drawn into her goddess illusions. I had not the courage to speak to her, so i waited until she rose to leave, and i followed faithfully. I hounded her down the crowded streets, past the bakery, the deli, and finally onto a dark deserted street lined with small white victorian style houses. I watched her enter her house from a bush lining the west side of her house, and once Aphrodite was inside, i lept onto the balcony, and scaled the ivy sidings to the second story , my hungry eyes searching for her. So great was my need to see her, so great it was.
this is just the first part.... I am working with 2 friends to write a book of sorts entitled "The Gothik Rosary" a collection of scary stories and poems by us. Under the names of Ravin Rav3n, Rose Red , and The Collector
THE MADMAN OF BAKER STREET
I remember it like it was yesterday. Her scent, morning rain in June, her skin, sunlight, her eyes, like the ocean, her hair... ahh her hair, sleek and shiny, black as the raven. Let me tell you how i killed her.
It all started that fateful night in the pub, The one just off of Baker St. I had come to the establishment of my choosing for the night, the choice i'd made for the past thirteen years. At 9:00 pm, to be exact. I had come to have my usual, a scotch on the rocks and a hollow conversation, if it could be called such, with the faceless bartender.The hollowness of the "conversation" sickens me, oh how it sickens me.
It was this night, that she walked into my view. The way she moved...I was instantaneously drawn into her goddess illusions. I had not the courage to speak to her, so i waited until she rose to leave, and i followed faithfully. I hounded her down the crowded streets, past the bakery, the deli, and finally onto a dark deserted street lined with small white victorian style houses. I watched her enter her house from a bush lining the west side of her house, and once Aphrodite was inside, i lept onto the balcony, and scaled the ivy sidings to the second story , my hungry eyes searching for her. So great was my need to see her, so great it was.
this is just the first part.... I am working with 2 friends to write a book of sorts entitled "The Gothik Rosary" a collection of scary stories and poems by us. Under the names of Ravin Rav3n, Rose Red , and The Collector