Felix and the Alternates By: Demonkyst
Felix sat by the dim-lit glow,
His mind on horrors few could know, Mandela County, plagued with fear,
Where death and shadows both draw near. The killings spread, a chilling mark,
Of something twisted in the dark.
He searched for clues, a thread to find, Linking the killings, unmasking the kind,
Of creatures lurking, cold and grim,
That twisted the world outside of him.
An Alternate’s face, a voice unclear,
A friend’s message then pierced his ear:
“Meet me tonight, at a place we know,
The truth is closer than it shows.
The building marked by recent death, Come swiftly now, before my breath,
Is silenced too by this lurking threat.”
Felix hurried, no time to fret.
A flashlight grabbed, a gun in hand,
He sped through night across the land.
The air grew thick, the moon hung low,
As shadows whispered where he’d go.
He reached the place, a haunted frame, Where silence whispered his friend’s name.
He wandered halls, cold and still,
The darkness gripped with creeping chill. Minutes passed, then came the scent,
Of blood, its trace a heavy vent.
Felix moved toward the sickening smell,
To face the truth his gut could tell.
The door creaked open, his light shone wide, And there his friend lay, still inside.
A lifeless body, gun in hand,
No mystery left to understand.
Felix trembled, fear in his core,
But then came sounds from beyond the door.
Footsteps echoed, though none were there, A whisper called from the chilling air. Voices spoke, so vile, so wrong,
Telling tales, stringing along,
That twisted truth with lies untold,
Of memories bitter, dark, and cold.
Felix locked the door, his breath in flight, Gun aimed toward the endless night.
The creatures spoke, but he shut them out, His mind refused to turn to doubt.
In the corner, he stayed his ground,
As evil whispered all around.
He called for help, days turned to blur, Yet none came forward, none did stir. Alone in terror, trapped in fear,
No rescue came, no help drew near. The gun felt heavy, hope ran thin,
And Felix saw no way to win.
With nothing left, no fight to give,
No voice to speak, no will to live,
He pointed the gun toward his head, Shouting loud in his final dread.
And then a bang, a deafening sound, Felix fell lifeless to the ground.
Days later, two were found, cold and still, The silence now had had its fill.
In that place of death and fright,
Felix and his friend, lost to the night. The alternates whispered, lurking near, But Felix would no longer hear.
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