The Ghoul by Gareth Owen

One dark and wintry evening
When snow swirled through the air
And the wind howled like a banshee
I crept silently up the stair.

I sat in the quiet of my bedroom
And opened with baited breath
My Zombie-Horror Make-Up Kit
That would frighten my sister to death.

FRIGHTEN YOUR FAMILY! AMAZE YOUR FRIENDS!
WITH OUR DO-IT-YOURSELF MAKE-UP KITS.
BE A WEREWOLF! A VAMPIRE! A ZOMBIE-GHOUL!
SCARE YOUR NEIGHBOURS OUT OF THEIR WITS!

Sowly my face began to change
As I carefully applied the pack.
I grinned at my face in the mirror
But an evil stranger leered back.

Long hair sprouted wild from my forehead,
My nose was half snout, half beak,
My right eye bulged angry and bloodshot
While my left one crawled over my cheek.

My fangs hung long and broken,
My chin was broken with sores,
The backs of my hands were mats of hair
My fingers grew long, bird-like claws.

I heard my sister opening the door,
Heard her call, ‘Hello, anyone in?’
I took a long, last look at the thing in the glass
Distorted and ugly as sin.

My sister was running the water
I could hear her washing her hair.
I heard her call out as a floorboard creaked.
‘Hello, is that somebody there?’

I released my zombie howl
As I crashed through the kitchen door,
Then I saw this ghoul in the window pane
And passed out cold on the floor.

by Gareth Owen

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Published by

mrhearne

Poetry, theatre, literature, films, reviews and various other matters. Primarily Russian and Welsh subjects.

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