But Clarissa died silently screaming in the dark at what she
found at the bottom of the old well. Her
mind could barely comprehend such a creature, the mummified remains of a
giant. And it moved and spoke to her in
her mind; each thought nails on the chalk board. It’s intelligence old and reptilian. The treasure clutched to his chest, the promise
it made, all a dark lie. It promised to
grant her wish, just like the old fairy tales.
Clarissa could hardly resist; I never want to be lonely again. The mummy never moved, but its rictus grin
grew wide in Clarissa’s minds eye. A
cold blanket of air drew over her, she screamed but no sound came out, she
could feel her heart beating wildly, threatening to burst from her ribs, then
the dark. Her wish was granted.
I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE! Stirring under the dark earth of Camp Blackfoot in upstate NY, Cropsy sits in his crypt watching hours upon pain staking hours of wretched B-rated filth and reading tomes of unholy pulp comics, swearing revenge on all those who've wronged him. His brain melts, slowly absolving his sanity. It spills forth on the inter-webs, contaminating the digital frontier like a burrowing parasite. Fans of flicks and funnybooks that defy common sense and moral decency welcome. Bring your own beer.... and body-bags!