Deep within a universal ruin,
Inside the core of worlds
There rests a dreaded place
Where the demons dwell.
There is no fire,
There is no ash,
Just a never ending pit of
Frozen oceans and snowy
Mountain tops of old concrete
And cemented stone.
Every terror held captive
By every sentient soul
Screams out in pain
Under the resting snow.
Tunnels have been burrowed,
Resting chambers built,
But it is still strongly felt,
By everything civilisation,
That all of Hell is loose.
Trenches are emptied,
Not by death but by harsher defeat.
Survivors are stripped of their clothes
And valuable supplies.
The camps in which they are held
Are but open areas fenced off
With barbed wire and shadowed towers.
As the winter grows angry
The camp guards’ hearts grow cold,
They decided to march the soldiers out
Back into the cold.
A swarm of pale naked men young and old
All cry and scream their dreadful ode:
“So cold, so cold, so fucking cold!”
Yet they march without stop
Pissing yellow on the ground and each other,
They’re newly born into to this fowl world!
Those poor souls who fell short of their comrades
Or tried to huddle together into one body
In an attempt to try and warm themselves up,
Suffered a severe beating from the passing guards
Until they are forced to scream “Christ, sir, Christ,
Please no more, no more!”
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Necropolises by Hannah Wollheim won 3rd Place in our Halloween Creative Writing Competition 2016