The Fractured Spiral...and the briefest shade of Amber...

You find the note beneath the mulch...

at evening as the light turned red,

a note written upon animal-hide...

and addressed to you directly,

You read it hidden...

amongst the dust below your house,

and feel your senses opening...

with the fictions promised there,

 

'The Sinister Meeting Room calls...

and we know you met our guide,

calls himself Mr. White n S...

and he shall be your illuminator tonight,

to get to our merry Hell Ball...

you must find your oldest mirror,

even a reflection through water will do...

and at seven minutes past two,

press your hand against what you see...

the rest shall unfold from here.'

 

 

You do as instructed...

you press your hand to the glass,

and you feel it trembling and fracturing beneath the press...

of your fingerprints upon its' surface,

you gaze into its' depths...

for five minutes,

maybe six...

and then you see something stir within there,

a familiar figure...

ghostly and wicked,

he steps towards you from within the mirrors' depths...

and reaches for your hand with his,

presses his palm against yours...

and unable to understand how,

or even desiring to know...

you feel his reflection,

the being trapped within your mirror...

seize you by the wrist and pull you through.

 

You are swimming...

in the deepest of dark lights,

murky flashes...

of brilliantly odd colours,

surround you from time to time through the gloom...

he is there,

Mr. White n S...

and you feel him dragging you up,

through the crushing darkness...

and the strange water,
towards a sort of light...

and as your hand breaks the surface,

lifeless ones take hold of your fingers...

 

You hold back a cry...

as you are drawn from the waters,

and into a most garish of sights...

you see that you are standing,

on a beach of broken telephones and toys...

forgotten bird wings and ripped apart clothes,
and an endless rhythm of noise.

Then you see in the near distance...

a hill draped in shadow,

by a sea that screams and crashes against rust...

and upon the hill,

a twisted wreckage leans...

a ship the size of a mountain,

with a fabulously long table...

winding its' way across its' fractured deck,

blood-glow lanterns...

adorn its' every point,

and a hundred million crows...

roost silently upon its' fallen mast and the beach,

Mr. White n S....

stands silent by your side,

and the dead hands that pulled you out...

belong to the being that stands out wide,

 

a Lady of feathered black...

who breathes a cold against you that is eternal and epic,

she is the shrieking of the wind...

through gaps in your windows,

and the voices that whisper...

when the hours are dead,

and your thoughts merge...

You hear then a melody,

fine as a twisted bone...

as depthly as a lake,

that spirals down into the void...

it fills you with cold chills,

and the purest vein of ecstasy...

and allowing the Lady and your guide to grasp your hands,

you are led on...

closer to the music,

and the eerie chattering upon the ship...

you three appear to float above the wreckage,

of that lost and forgotten beach...

you feel your mind,

your thoughts...

your beliefs,

slipping away with the tide...

you are there,

and you are not afraid...

it is only the thrill,

of those haunted faces...

and that unearthly music you hear,

pulling you forward...

enticing you on,

until you are climbing the ships cracked hull...

 

 

Once standing you are surrounded by it,

by the vicious melody,

insatiable and sinister...

you see a thousand faces,

or mayhaps just two dozen...

grinning and baring their long teeth at you,

and reaching for a hug or a shake of your hand...

some have grey wings,

that pool and drag the dust up from the deck...

while others stare with pale and sightless eyes,

grinning at you just as you turn your back....

others are like trees,

with their whispering ways...

and draping limbs that scrape the dust,

from beneath the rust and deck...

there are creatures that fade amidst a scattering of light,

and strange daerk beings...

that twine and unfurl in the corners,

hats ten thousand metres high...

and smoke that swarms in fluorescent shapes,

adorn the mirrors and walls...

the table smells like a ten car pile-up of food,

with the most luscious of berries,

entwining with frost-aged cheese...

 

 

Goblets of wine,

and other ancient drinks...

are passed around at ease,

and the cacophony of noise...

rises towards the sea and stars,

as you feel your mind at reprieve...

gifts are exchanged,

and stories about one another told...

you discover that you know these strangers quite well,

and that they understand your heart best of all...

thoughts are whispered,

and jaunts shrieked...

and then amidst it all,

you feel and hear the call...

Mr. White n S. places his hand upon your shoulder,

as the feathered lady speaks to you...

 

'Take now the blade,

you kept hidden from before...

and make a choice now,

before our walls crumble down to the floor...

First carve your name into the stone,

as an acknowledgement of the fact...

then choose your destiny,

your life...

your virtue,

with this one intolerable act...

stab yourself between the ribs,

straight into the heart...

or stab the mirror,

break your reflection...

and allow your soul and self to be free.

Make your choice now...

remove the mask,

and mark your decision with a knife.'

 

What you choose is up to you...

but you mark your name upon the stone,

stab your choice and feel yourself new...

you feel yourself growing numb,

as your decision is accepted...

no matter its name,

and the beat thunders out through your heart...

and the music grows bolder,

and the ghouls about you dance closer...

and you feel it all merge,

then...

you are being pulled and then carried,

away from the lights...

away from the melody,

in Mr. White n S.s arms...

and with the feathered lady by your side,

she waves at you...

as your guide carries you into the deep and dark lagoon,

the way by which you came...

you glimpse a last smile from her,

before you are travelling through other worlds...

You eventually feel yourself being lowered into your bed,

the deepest of sleeps descending upon you...

yet as you fall within,

you glimpse in the darkness...

the most brilliant of smiles and winks,

and the scantest note of that ageless music...

creeping its' way into the night.

 

 

  Sorry for the slightly late blog...I love you all btw.

       Have a fabulously nasty Halloween everyone, hope you were able to scare some life into someone today. I vented my frustration on some flowers as I wore my monster helmet. It was awesome. I'm thinking of eating the flowers tomorrow. I DO NOT have you-know-what. Watch Coraline, eat pumpkin pie and drink caramel hot chocolate in front of a fire. No better way to enjoy this time.
  Missing the island.

Much Love,
  Miss CLScarlett xx