Late At Night, Long After Dark
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BLACK BLOOD Late at night, long after dark, I see things no one else does. I pretend not to notice, not to care. But in the end I always find myself fixated by the window in my room, staring at the things below. They tease me, taunt me, and try to get me to look. In the end, it’s the blood that brings me to them. The Black Blood. Flowing in their veins, through their vile hearts. It’s ugly, yet it’s beautiful. It glistens, sparkles, slides effortlessly everywhere. They spill it on purpose, knowing I’ll come. You’ve probably never seen Black Blood before. It’s beautiful. It gushes from their wrists and flows all over their bodies. That’s what is fascinating about these things, there is beauty and repulsiveness combined. But there is no evil. They are like a child’s taunt. A threat to be overruled by reason. I show them no fear. I close my eyes… they can do me no harm. One time I asked of their names. None of them answered except one. He said, “Call me ‘Legion’ for we are many.” I haven’t heard a word from them since. I still see them though. I haven’t spoken to anyone about them until now. LEGION Late at night, long after dark, I venture to the world above. Hunting for my latest prey, so I can feed off human fear and agony. Most victims are easily swayed. They play right into my hands. But weeks ago I found a girl, who was not so easily subdued. I went there every night to do the usual routine of taunting, screaming, playing on her fears. But she fought off my advances and simply pretended not to care. Then I introduced the Black Blood. And this sparked something I’d never seen before in a subject. She seemed taken, almost fascinated by it, like a child at the sight of a new toy. But, was she a child and was it a toy? No, they were far from either. So the Black Blood just lay there and she watched as I entertained the anomaly of the Black Blood. The fact she didn’t react the way others do, confounded my intent that was different than before. Her fascination overcoming her fear, she finally felt compelled to address me. The way she was asking me and not the monster, I could do naught but answer her. But the fact that I told her my real name surprised even me. I still visit her, though, late at night, when the demons come. When I come.
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About the Book
Late at night, long after dark, is a collection of 96 poems paired in 48 duets geared towards those who have a dark sense about themselves. It is a collection of work that is full of the grotesqueries of this world. Complete with tales of killers, cannibalism, demons, vampires, werewolves, and beings not of this world, featuring the raw emotion of love, hate, agony, fear and modern human drama. While not for the squeamish, it is something that will make you question the way you view yourself, the world, and the unknown.
About the Author
David Reed lives and works in southern Maine. He has always had a dark sense about him making him the odd man out when it comes to people. He writes other topics of poetry such as love and humanity and is currently working on a novel based on characters from the Late at night, long after dark collection. Late at night, long after dark is his first collection of poetry and he plans to continue the series sometime in the future.