~The Sad Tale of Thaddeus Jones~
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I'll tell you now a tale of old, so frightful, it is rarely told.
Of demon spawn and hellish reek; a story others dare not speak.
Of banshee shrieks from fleshy tombs, abominations, darkened wombs.
Ghouls ghastly deeds, death throes in gloom — wood coffin creaks forecasting doom.
Thaddeus Jones, his Christian name, whose mysticism won him fame.
A magician of renowned acclaim, (some claim that Satan was to blame.)
Each trick performed upon the stage caused Thaddeus to quickly age.
His hair had gone from black to white in just one year, until that night...
All Hallow's Eve, the hall was full, each one attending felt the pull
of purest evil — horrid pox — contained within one wooden box.
The locks were ancient, made of gold; (to keep the evil in, I'm told).
But Thaddeus, who held the key, would set the vile demons free.
Effluvium soon filled the halls, climbed up the ceiling, aisles and walls.
It choked the audience to death. Yet, I survived—the last one left.
His tortured features writhed with pain, as banshees shrieked their sour refrain,
All Hallow's minions soon appeared as Thaddeus's soul was seared.
I knew his story must be told, that souls should ne'er be bought or sold
for foolish fame or fortune's gain, it's all for naught if wrought in vain.
He laid gnarled hands upon my head, turned to me, then softly said;
“My work here must continue so, I've chosen you, now I must go...”
The vaporous mist soon disappeared; when, on the stage — just as I'd feared,
the famous Thaddeus was gone, without a trace... not even one.
I fell into a troubled sleep — 'twas near the hour that witches keep,
I dreamt of how he'd simply gone, whilst voices echoed from beyond...
I wasn't quite myself, it seemed, like something latched on as I dreamed.
I lay transfixed, my body twitched, I felt as if I'd been bewitched.
“Arise, there is much work to do, All Hallows Eve, it's up to you.
Seal Hell's evil in its crate — you must hurry, friend, 'fore it's too late!”
'Twas then I arose and saw, my mirrored reflection, a bony maw.
The image there of Thaddeus Jones, smiled back at me, gaunt grinning bones.
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