The Boogeyman Is Coming

Armed with a love for all things that burn bright-

and an attraction to the dark,

He slowly creeps down in the depths of hell tonight,

with a thunderous voice, louder than Cerberus' bark.

He has been invited personally by the king of all things demonic.

As he lays his knees down against the burning ground, he stares at the throne.

Satan betrothes him with a task, he was chosen, for he is the only one that can do it.

Without hesitation, the man smirks and nods, accepting the transformation into a demonic drone.

From a young age, he had danced with the devil in a pale moonlight. His dreams were not of being rich or famous, instead they were of causing the cursed humans fright. Deep down he knew he was a demon. He had dreams of sitting in the throne that Beelzebub was perched upon.

His name was Luke, he was a murderer. Before transforming into something further. The angels weeped on the day of his birth. God formed him out of the deepest of dirts. Every breath he takes, his feet sink deeper into hell. But, I guess to him, it's a personal Heaven as well.

His goals become clearer as he walks nearer.

Nearer to the bag of goods his lord has left for him.

As his eagerness grows, his patience wears thin.

He opens the sack and collects the contents inside:

A small pocketwatch to tell the time, a mask made of dried blood and chaff, a cloak of dried tar, fiery and sharp talons, and a staff of bones.

And before he left, he took the bag with him, then turned back to the devil, leaving him with a smile and thus, returning home.

His pocketwatch said it was nighttime, he decided to fulfill his deal with the devil.

As he puts the mask and cloak on, he recollects his thoughts on the pure evil.

"Bring me the recovering sinner's body so that I may break him again and force him to bow down to me."

He finds a home in the middle of many, it's lights turned off, it's doors sealed.

Just the right amount of resistance to the darkness to appeal.

With his fiery talons, he slashes the door down into pieces.

After tonight, the poor soul will not know what peace is.

The demon brushes his talons softly against the empty beer bottles in which, the man was trying to escape.

He slammed his staff down, causing a black smoke to fill the house, almost signaling his tragic fate.

His duty was to send those who almost escaped satan's grasp, back into those same bloody hands.

With a gasp, the man awakens, but it was too late. The demon had already grabbed a hold of the man.

His talons scratching into the man's chest felt as if he was forcing the pain into his soul.

As he stares into the screaming soul's eyes, he sends him visions of old.

His happy childhood, his tragic descent into alcoholism.

He slowly encloses the man in the sack he had gotten from hell, sealing him in.

After a few seconds of violent shaking and desperate gasping, the man inside disappeared from earth.