Solace Among the Noise

Up are the walls

Strong, sturdy, and tall

As the music plays

Push the thoughts away

Block out the faces

Of people, fears, and places

That scream desires

Of wants and personal fires

Keep up the walls

Refuse to hear their calls

Let the music soar

To silence the invading roar

Speak the lies

While the truth inside you cries

Screaming for peace

For hopeful silence and release

Hold up the wall

Ignore the cracks that fall

Keep the music going

That spark of solace flowing

The roar is loud

The faces among the crowd

Filled with expectation

And greed and denunciation

So protect your voice

Your power and your choice

Hear the music’s ringing

And fill your soul with singing


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Mossy, photography by Mitchell Stoycheff

Puppeteer

A smiling face hides more
A facade that one can front
Various tricks can a smile implore
Where truth will only stunt

There is a curtain that hides the plots
A veil of devious mind racing
How can we withstand the onslaught
When we don’t know who we’re facing

Lives are wasted, to men who hold the power
Where what is precious is profane
An obstacle to simply conquer
Until to ashes we all remain

In the end we are tied to falsehood
Forced to hide our truths within
How many waves have we withstood
When we are constantly searching to begin

How can we find the solace
When we don the masks we admonish
How do we wipe clean the canvas
To cut the strings and vanish

Wrath

Deep inside a spark endures
Waiting for the overtures
Borne of beastial burning bustle
I am the bane of bliss and warning council

I wait in silence, a volatile catalyst
I wait in silence till my move is clearest
Whispering thoughts and emotions deep
Until you plunge, in anger you’ll weep.

Oh yes you’ll sob those salty tears
Until your mind slowly disappears
Grinning, I will take my fill
While feeding the seed you tried to kill

Oh yes, feed these flames: the seed within
Now feed me instead, with your oxygen
Ignite your soul, down its fiery path
Until all is lost to the heat of Wrath

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The Enigmatic Monster Project

Do Not Shriek

Spiral down, the dark awaits

Hear its sound, the heart pulsates

Softly whisper, hear them speak

And if you answer: do not shriek

Set Fire To Something, by Mitchell Stoycheff

Set Fire to Something

The acrid smell of gasoline was as strong as it was heady. It pervaded the air like a poisonous cloud assailing the senses. My nose burned from underneath it, and my eyes watered as I continued to pour the liquid my hands shaking.

Around me the night screamed in alarm: every bug was a siren; every bird was mortal. They peered out at me through the darkness of the night. Their accusing glares matched the beating of my heart. They were everywhere, and they pounded against my thoughts like hammer.

I focused on my task, the smell of gasoline. The smell of vengeance and the smell of justice. There was nothing left to my world; all obligations forfeit. Splashing the last few drops I tossed the container aside and fumbled in my pockets for my lighter.

This was it.

As I went to flicked it on I looked up to the face of the scarecrow, his split fibrous grin was dark and slick with liquid. Its eyes were unnaturally focused. Could this demon smell it? Did the scent of the gasoline lead it here. I stumbled back slipping in the slick grass, fear bubbling in the back of my throat. It’s head cocked to one side rolling awkwardly.

It shuffled toward me, almost unstably. Its was a game it played. I had seen it move and I had seen it kill. My eyes looked to the gleaming meat hook stuffed in its right arm, recalling how It strung up Sally from the rafters, how her screams were cut short.

My hand clenched the lighter, almost as tight as my chest heaved. There was no time left, no air left. I was going to die. Would it do the same to me as it did to all the others? Would it hurt. My vision blurred, I was the only one left after all, who would bury me?

The demon lunged at me and I screamed and tried to roll away. The pain was immediate. My fingers dug haphazardly in the earth as struggled to pull myself away from the fiend, knowing that I was within its clutches. It tugged, and my left leg screamed in agony. Terror and pain erupted from my lips in an anguished fearful cry. Tears blurred my vision, as I fought its supernatural strength. It pulled again my body sliding in the slick grass with ease.

Twisting I swung my leg at it in desperation. It took the blows with ease, its feral grin unflinching. Instead in leaned forward, tearing the hook from my leg with ease sending shock waves that splintered up my body. I screamed in pain, I screamed for God, even as the black spots formed in between my tears.

Despite it’s blurry form its soulless eyes were in clarity. It was the eyes of death. I struggled backward as it angled itself even closer, the bloody hook dripping with bits of ragged flesh. I whimpered pleas of sorrow as I continued to struggle backward against the pain. The rough skin of the tree ended my retreat, and I was forced to look up to the demon that loomed over me, like a carving of statue whose eyes glittered even in the night.

I had so many regrets, so many plans for the future. None included this haunting menace. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want any of this, but it was all I had left. The scent of vengeance and the scent of justice. Could they be the same, when the nightmares of the world came crawling out. My hand trembled as I flicked the lighter, bringing a spark to the darkness.

The demon pealed, the meat hook flashing brightly in the moonlight, but the flash of fire was faster as it consumed him and tree that tethered the demon to this world.

Extinguish, by Mitchell Stoycheff

Extinguish

This cheerful world has been captured

Lying forgotten, beaten, and tortured

What once was elation has turned dismal

Reflecting that of an echoing call

Forever reaching

Forever returning

That glimmer that burned now has tarnished

Extinguishing the stars, hope has vanished

A shell vacant and void of emotion

Is all we have left, our tainted poison

Painful Echo, by Mitchell Stoycheff

Painful Echo

Dreams that border nightmare

In the realm of thought revealing

A glimpse into that stare

Recall the painful echoes: up-heaving

Burdened by the past

An icon of woe and pain

How does this unwavering flame last

Against the torrent of the rains

You must face the past with intention

Let your voice stand tall

Unleash your thoughts with conviction

Unveil the truth behind your walls

Sorry About Your Dad, written by P.L Cobb with art by Jake Zaccaria

Rubies

Feel the pain

The sting of the knife

Forget the stain

Of what was once a hopeful life

Let the rubies drain out

Along with thoughtful dreams

Lose yourself in doubt

Tear apart your seams

The Enigmatic Monster Project: horror of all flavours.

Pressure

This pressure, so many faces

Its building from so many places

Sitting in the dark; a single candle

Searching for a purpose, to find its handle

“We could be anything” That is what was said

To the mind of a youth whose dreams were being fed

Adulthood came and all things tarnished

A candle left burning, into smoke it’ll vanish

The pressure is is building, no time to relax

It seems all things are reduced to piles of wax

Burning Embers: A Haiku, by Mitchell Stoycheff

Burning Embers: A Haiku

Burning embers catch
Like soft lofty mushroom spores
I’m swallowed in fire

Madness, by M. Stoycheff.

Madness

What truths do you behold?

What visions do you see?
Madness is often uncontrolled
When fueled by atrocities

What say you?
Do you wish to speak?
Shall your vision ensue?
Shall we take a peek?

So speak your words
That’s it, don’t be shy.
Shout it from your innards
Let your voice amplify

Hmm, how amusing that your voice is voiceless
You’re but a phantom in your mind
Your actions too, are useless
Your free will has been confined

It’s okay to cry
Humans often do.
The truth is: you don’t want to die
However, there is no other avenue

There is that truth: now behold
That reality you now see
Your madness has awakened tenfold
You shall commit terrible atrocities.

Expunged, written and illustrated by M. Stoycheff

Expunged

I feel nothing
No spark to animate me
I feel nothing
No hope that I can see
Anger, bitter, and unbridled
Burns in my core
I am unsettled
Like the sands of the shore
Cold eyes are gleaming
Feeding lies: through smiles
Selfishly scheming
Benefit for their guile
I feel nothing
As the world strikes against me
I feel nothing

Night of A Burning Heart, by M. Stoycheff

Night of A Burning Heart

Cold blood runs a feral heart
As anger rises, it fractures the mind apart
A bloody trail from bare feet
A glimmering knife; a heart’s racing beat
A solemn task you must complete
Spurned by vengeance, its guiding heat
You see them walking, laughing in the night.
Like shattering glass, your anger takes flight
Lunge quickly: take their life
Silence the screams and end your strife
Lock out the sobbing and finish this path
Strike again: give in to Wrath
Now walk away, enjoy the dripping blood
Your heart is free, lost in the flood

Fury, by M. Stoycheff.

Fury

The heart is beating

The mind aching

The calm is gone

All broken bonds

As thoughts dawn

Your conscience is withdrawn

You breath in the fury

A breath of harsh flurries

The shallow are seen

Actions become like daydreams

A flash of red. A spark of the moon

Now silence: a deathly tune.

The Mask, by Mitchell Stoycheff; art by P.L. Cobb

The Mask

Deception smiles behind its mask
A facade of joy; a troublesome task
Lying dormant: calculating
As it waits to strike, unsuspecting
Gazes flicker behind the mask
Beware: for in the glory which you bask
For vivid tales can not atone
And towers crumble from single stones

A Portrait of Lust

A Portrait of Lust by Mitchell Stoycheff

Ember flowers

All these lost and hopeful desires

Drift like tufts of dandelion

Wayward dreams, whose light expire

Settle like ash on crumbling bastions

Voices scream aloud for answers

Pleading cries in the breeze

Like flowers of burning embers

They are lost among the seas

Longing

Longing:

The desire for something greater

Imprisoned:

Forever repeating mundane cycles

Stabbed, prodded, pushed, pulled and beaten

Following paths of a decaying heart

It beats in time with cracking ice

So thin its facade of serenity

Lanterns burn black, encroaching the light

It’s swollen pulse pumping it’s black poison

Lost: forever in longing

In shadows that all lead to despair

The Enigmatic Monster Project

The Mirror

Throw your woes into the mirror

Teary eyes and laughter

Tell me what you want to hear

The things that you admire

Don’t forget to balm your fear

With softly spoken words sincere

Paste an image crystal clear

And try your best to endear

Throw your sadness into the mirror

As you struggle to find an answer

Scream for the image to re-appear

As you feed this hungry fervor

Sculpt an image, try and conjure

The lies that give you closure

I’ll reflect the image of your ire

As you kill yourself for petty desire

These Words, story and art by P.L. Cobb

Blood Between the Sheets

A couple moved in time with one another, their passionate groans calling out in eager whimpering pleas. As they twisted in the sheets, a subtle yet assertive knock sounded at the door.

“Who’s that?” The man stopped and pulled himself back. She could see the nervous tension racing through him. He was young even by her standards, but she was still in accordance with mortal law. 18 human years was adult enough. Far older than a few hundred years ago.

She shushed him, and drew him close. “Pay it no mind baby,” the woman crooned as she traced a line down his muscular chest. She always enjoyed a fair amount of muscle. He relaxed and bent in with a sloppy kiss, his hips shifting forward.

The knock came again, this time it was no longer subtle. It was demanding.

He moved up and off of her, alert with nervous tension and the undercurrent of anger. Poor things get frustrated oh so easy! The woman sighed and turned so that she faced the door propping her head on her hand. She didn’t bother covering herself with the sheet. Naked, her young lover answered the door in an angry huff. Obviously proud of himself. A man stood on the other side, tall and muscular. She felt flush, seeing him, as her eyes traced downward. Her lover’s chest puffed out. “What’s the problem man!” He barked, leaning forward. Despite being tall himself the man on the other side was still a head taller. Looking down at the boy before him the man smiled, before looking to woman in the bed. She gave a flirty wave.

“You were suppose to be ready to leave a half hour ago.”

She shrugged caressing her waist. “I was craving something–” she paused, glancing at her lover who was looking a bit angry at the sudden twist “–big.” She finished with a smile.

The man smiled, and caught the eyes of her lover, before looking downward. The young lover stepped back under the sudden hungry gaze. “Finish up here, Luce” he told her, smiling again at her lover. “She always finds the pretty ones” he murmured before shutting the door behind him.

Sitting up Luce positioned herself seductively. Invitingly. As her lover turned back to her. She could tell they had lost the mood. She pouted to herself. Well, that wouldn’t do. “I think I better go.” He mentioned grabbing his underwear from the floor. “I don’t want to intrude in whatever that was.”

Luce gave a little laugh. “Vee? Pay him no mind. He’s the perpetual jealous type. But hardly a good tumble between the sheets.” He stared at her. She could tell he was sitting on the precipice. She could feel it. Part of him wished to leave at once, while deep inside his burning lust ignited as he traced her body with his mind. She just need a final push. Standing up she walked over to him and pressed her breasts against him. “Don’t go.” She whimpered, kissing below his jaw. He shivered and she could feel his resistance fade as a hardness shifted below. Luce smiled and pulled him downward to kiss him. He complied, the heat returning to his body. She grinned, as he pulled her closer, the hungry carnal heat retaking him. It would do her no good to be on edge. Oh no, she liked to savor the heat of the moment.

She gave a slight moan as she felt his arms lift her, making a quick transition to the bed. As he shifted below her, ready to continue their previous romp, she stopped him with a suggestive grin. “Let me be on top.” He gave a wolfish grin and pulled her onto him. She let out a soft moan of pleasure. Tracing his muscular chest, feeling the strong beat beneath, she gave in to his proddings. She smiled at him through heavy eyes as he moved his own hands up her trembling body. Eager to explore, his hunger burning deep inside him.

Oh he was ready, she could feel it. Nothing was better than the heat of desire burning out conscious reason. With her right hand still on his chest, she reached up with her left, playfully covering his mouth. “Don’t scream too loud.” She purred at him.

He looked at her confused, but Luce smiled wickedly. He grinned himself, his own thoughts bringing delicious fruit.

Oh, but not his kind of fruit!

In one swift motion her left hand clamped over his mouth while her right tore into his flesh, boring into his ribs with a deafening snap. She groped a moment in his chest cavity until she felt the warm thick pulse of his heart. Her lover screamed in agony beneath the supernatural strength of her hands, but she would not allow him to move. Oh no, she was looking forward to this. His cry soon ended.

She carefully pulled an enlarged heart from his chest and gazed at it lovingly. Oh yes, she was definitely hungry for something big. Luce looked at the man beneath her, a ragged hole in his chest. He had no idea. Cardiomyopathy was genetic after all. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his before pulling herself off of him. “Thanks for the lovely Valentine.” She smiled and then bit into the heart like an apple.


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False Promise

A world of promise lays its trap

A flower of beauty to behold and unwrap

Of dreams that entice, transfix and ensnare

Something to catch, our victory to declare

A world of promise is all but lies

A harrowing nightmare with a beautiful disguise

Of dreams that dangle just out of reach

As the world devours us lost from beneath


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Bleak Possibilities

The future is bleak

A long road into the night

Sitting on a losing streak

A dying flame, wanting to ignite

Burdened by the past

Troubled by the future

Stuck in an arid forecast

In a place of no winter

A long descent into sorrow

Into the shadows of the night

Days are shorter; no hope in tomorrow

A dying flame struggling to fight

Straining to see a ray of hope

When a blackened world gives no quarter

When the world consists of chain and rope

The future is truly bleak; with little promise to recover



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Levee

I once was happy so many years ago

From dawn till dusk I had a smile in tow

Those years of enmity seemed but distant memories

A remnant of the past, water behind the levees

Now it seems cracks have begun to form

Too many waves from too many storms

I hold on to my foothold high above the sea

The groan of the levees call: its fortuitous plea

I gaze above; my freedom in my climb

While the waves below echo darkened rhymes

My past is haunting me, wanting its return

A remnant to made whole, where resentment can burn

All will come crashing down if the levee finally breaks

Will I reach the top or will the torrents overtake



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