Okay, so here is the first piece of writing we have ever published on the site. We recently received this work, ‘Beast’, from DeLune who describes herself as “an NHS service nutter who writes”.
I would love to receive a submission for an illustration to go along with this piece of writing. If you are reading and want to give it a go, please, please do!
DeLune has more writing at her website Hotel Muse. Go and check it out, there are some really powerful pieces, like this one.
Here it comes, like a ghost train shrieking on the same silver tracks.
Here it comes, a furious risen corpse; all clawed pale hands and wailing screams.
Here it comes, moon-chewing crypt dweller; hunger-carved into bones and sinew.
The Beast is here. I feel it itch between my bones, I feel it spark like pagan fires, I watch it paint my loved one’s face with fear.
It eats my sleep, it jerks my limbs. I convulse, mouth taut in a silent shout that would shatter the window if given voice.
I crouch, spin, twitch, cower, shake and shiver. I gaze unseeing, I hold my voice in. I must be reminded if I am to eat.
I am busy, can’t you see? Chasing stars – faster and faster, I will open my beast’s mouth and suck them all down.
‘I’m terribly sorry I’m sure that your conversation is endlessly fascinating but werewolves are breeding beneath my skin and I have to go.”
I burn. I burn. Vampire in sunlight, demon in exorcism, witch in Inquisition pyre, I burn. Something swarms my mind like bees; I call it Starvation. I call it Thirst.
Spinning in circles, arms flung out, round and round until my feet drill down to the cool, the calm, the silence; a long way under the skin.
A wounding imp, it threatens to take everything unless I guess it’s name. But I am clever;
I am forged from faerie stories and night wanderings
– shame and grief and demolishing rage, that’s what this little girl is made of –
And I guess it’s name, I call it madness, and my magic sword,
My wood-cutter’s axe,
Is shaped like a pill.