I feel you creep and crawl around me
can sense you, smell your excitement
your curiosity, your fear.
Your hand against my side is hot
feverish
sweaty and shaking.
I know what you want
know it’s only a matter of time before you take it
before you open my door
come in.
You’ll tip-toe across my floor,
shining your torch into every corner
trying to learn my secrets
to find what remains hidden.
But you won’t.
They never do.
No one ever thinks to look up…
In this issue of The Dread Machine, you’ll visit an automated retail hellscape, attend a wild party on Earth’s tempest-ravaged surface, and determine what caused the strange deaths at the AudioSnap building.
See the stars in the prison walls, inherit the sacred responsibility of an irradiated priestess, meet a sinister sommelier, befriend a spider, then attend a macabre art show. Whatever you do, don’t eat the honey, and avoid the child with the robotic toys.In this issue of The Dread Machine, you’ll visit an automated retail hellscape, attend a wild party on Earth’s tempest-ravaged surface, and determine what caused the strange deaths at the AudioSnap building.
See the stars in the prison walls, inherit the sacred responsibility of an irradiated priestess, meet a sinister sommelier, befriend a spider, then attend a macabre art show. Whatever you do, don’t eat the honey, and avoid the child with the robotic toys.At the bottom of the Mariana Trench, Death is a misplaced pinprick, a hairline crack. Owen hears it tapping at the habitat’s exterior.
Thoughts are routed, filtered and processed to mold voices according to the Norm, making people obey “linguistic standards.”
Terika doesn’t know what to make of the spiders that are coming to die on her front porch.
A poem about prison and how it changes guys like you.
