The sun had almost fully set,
in the sleepy town of Mobet.
Autumn leaves on the ground,
with winters whisper all around.
High in a clubhouse of a very old oak tree,
three boys drew straws to see who it would be.
With the short straw in the hand of the youngest boy,
the two others snickered as their eyes danced for joy.
It is you Mark, the eldest boy declared,
unless you’re chicken, unless you’re scared.
Still holding the straw in front of his eyes,
Mark gulped from the fear of what it implied.
You must hurry and go now before the sun disappears,
she locks her porch doors when the whispers draw near.
You must reach her attic and stay there all night,
no matter what evil, horrible or frightening sight.
Out of the clubhouse through the woods went Mark,
to the creepy house at the edge of Swamp Lark.
Biting his lower lip to stop it from quivering,
Mark slipped through the porch door, his body shivering.
Frozen with fear, he spotted the attic door,
exactly the way it was described in town lore.
Mark opened the door and proceeded up a narrow climb,
with each step in the staircase echoing an eerie chime.
Opening the door at the top of the stairs,
revealed a room that was dark, empty and bare.
But, at second glance Mark spotted a light,
Through a hole in the floor, shining bright.
On his belly he laid, putting his eye to the hole,
he saw a room with a fireplace, a parlor of old.
In a chair next to the fire, sitting quiet and still
was a very old woman named Nora Ann Hill.
Hours had passed but nothing was happening,
So tired and sleepy, Mark thought of napping.
Awakened by sounds of music long forgotten,
Mark peered in the hole at something shocking.
The room was the same but the old lady was gone,
Instead there was a young girl dancing to song.
The words of the song kept repeating a single phrase,
"Come Forth Children of the Night, It's Time to Raise."
Mark watched the girl dance as she sang the tune,
like in a dream, she twirled and spun around the room.
Who was the mysterious girl, this beauty of the night?
Why was she glowing brightly from a strange light?
Caught in the trance of this beautiful princess,
Mark at first missed the sounds of horrible hisses.
As the screams got louder, he would match the sounds
to several dark shadows, rising up out of the ground.
His heart began pounding until he thought it would burst,
from the horror of these shadows rising up from the earth.
And just when he thought he should get up and run,
The shadows took the form of boys, vibrant and young.
This can’t be happening! It must be a dream!
But, Hold it! Wait! Mark wanted to scream.
Two of the boys looked strangely familiar,
of faces on posters, at the movie theatre.
He watched in horror as they danced with the girl,
all laughing and spinning as she would twirl and twirl.
Mark rubbed his eyes and peered back through the hole,
to a scene so utterly terrifying, it froze his very soul.
The dancing had stopped and the music as well,
As Mark witnessed a scene straight out of hell.
For the girl and her companions had stopped their dance,
and were now staring straight at Mark with an evil glance.
Oh Dear God! I can’t believe this horror!
Mark watched the shadows return to the floor.
With a cloud of dark mist now surrounding the girl,
Mark watched a transformation not of this world.
The old woman now appeared where the girl had been standing,
waving her finger at Mark, she now began chanting.
Is she a witch or is she something much more evil?
Why has she trapped the souls of the towns young people?
I must get away from this horrible place,
Mark searched for the door at a frantic pace.
Reaching out in the dark to feel his way,
he heard voices whispering; "You Can’t Get Away!"
Hisses he could hear all about the room,
with the old woman’s chant echoing his doom.
Many hands he could feel pulling at his legs,
as his will to fight, faded in a dark haze.
Mark would never be seen in Mobet again,
except on a poster, in a theatre, near towns’ end.
Late each night as the whispers fill the air,
through a hole in an attic you’ll find Mark, IF YOU DARE!
Adding your comment:
pretty good rhyme too 
