Edge of your seat folks!
More like edge of the bed
Live screaming
Live streaming tears
Talk about true horror
It’s so loud
Too loud
Round and round
Only the hammers of hell drown
They fade out the noise

Stop beating yourself! but how?
How when your brain hates you

Dredging up an old fleshy skeletons
And they snap snap snap
They snap and snap and
It laughs while I squirm
While I scream and plead
Snap snap snap
Beat my own fists
Against the floor
Forehead against the bones
But it’s all agony from there

Alone at 4:48 am and I can’t breathe
Shiver and shake like a fever seizure
Listen to a voice suggesting solutions
But antidepressants are not the answer
They don’t stop the nightmares;
The clawing for leverage
To keep myself from falling
The gasping for air to keep from drowning
The search for glue to keep from falling to pieces
Or the quicksilver pain that follows on waking


Cover by Jerry Winnett (a work still in progress) Coming soon to Fear Front Publishing

In the small burg of Skull Creek, a death is on the prowl. Some say it is a copycat killer, out for his moment of fame, but Jacqueline DePasse and her diligent crew of detectives soon learn that it is so much more than a tribute to the only known and convicted female serial killer in captivity. Cathleen Carson. DePasse, with the assistance of crime reporter Jake Michaels and her team, soon discover that one victim survived and she will be the key, the one who must Roll the Beautiful Bones and stop a killer before he strikes again.

Throwing Stones

Let’s throw stones, shall we?

No? You do already –

Now, hard as you can

Throw them into the water

Watch the impact

Smash the mirror image and

Make the ripple  a reality

The splash is arterial spray

or your own tears

And you killed it

Did it feel good?   Did you enjoy it?

Do it again



Beat that voice in your head into silence

Throw stones and punches

Over and over til your arm hurts

Cause those ripples that destroy the reflection

The cold clear sky reflects like

A slight mist on the surface of hell

It’s too pretty

Throw more stones

Make it ugly

Make it hurt

Do it again




Scream, Curse the sky

Throw rage to the river

Let it drown

Do Nothing

Let it die



At the feet of Prophecy

It hasn’t been long
Not really
As far as the concept of time allows

But that creature in the shadows
With reddish blue eyes, too human.
I can’t forget it.

The stare, as watchful as mine
But wrong and appealing somehow
With corruption oozing hunger

It crept, bold as brass monkey balls
Observing with a mouthful of teeth
Spider silk strands of saliva dripping
The monster, it starved

I believe that Evil is confident
My theory proven
When it stepped into the light
Laying lineless palms upon the living

And with each pronouncement it spoke
The unhealthy glow of death
Enveloped the blissfully unaware

Recollection rings truer in hindsight
What appeared to be insane mutterings have come to pass

Nothing examples fact louder
Than the words it screamed
Burning spittle left scars, the rage
Horror in hilarity, it crowed;

“They can’t be saved, so stop trying
They are already dead or dying. They are mine.”

I dreamt of this daemon again last night
The same slippery steps to a darker place
Deeper shadows that defy the light
And a tiny glittering reminder
Shining like the sun on the filthy floor
At the feet of Prophecy



Twisted Tales Patti Beeton

Available now for Kindle and in paperback - Just click the link!
Available now for Kindle and in paperback – Just click the link!