POETRY BY LILA FLEXER

Lila Flexer has been reading horror books since she was a child, due to her mother collecting them, and her mother before her. Lila's mother even has her own eBay store called horrorlady with tons of amazing horror books from her very own collection.

Lila lives on the East Coast with her family and two Siamese cats, Msh Msh and Ushi. She loves to read and write horror stories, and one of her favorite places to go is to the beach resorts in Egypt. She hopes to visit again soon.

UNDER THE PAINT

He bought it for a price too kind—
the porch was cracked, the roof declined.
A fixer-upper, nothing more.
A place with bones beneath the floor.

The air was thick, like meat left out.
The pipes would groan, the walls would pout.
He painted over stains that spread—
no matter what, they always bled.

A hallway that breathed.
A door that sighed.
He laughed at first—until it cried.

The floorboards pulsed beneath his feet.
The house was warm, and softly sweet.
The windows fogged with every breath.
The house, he thought, was faking death.

But then he saw the ceiling twitch—
a subtle stretch, a swollen stitch.
He peeled the plaster from the wall—
and found not brick,
but flesh.
That crawled.

A knuckle near the kitchen tiles.
A tongue behind the bathroom dials.
He tried to run—
he really tried—
but the hallway grew too wide.

The lights blinked red,
the floor turned slick.
The house was starving.
It chose him quick.

He screamed, but rooms don’t care for speech.
They only open.
Swallow.
Reach.

Now part of him is in the stairs.
His fingers frame the pantry chairs.
His spine supports the attic beam.
He only wakes to hear them scream.

BRIDE IN BLACK

An earnest smile—gentle to the eye
So kind was she, the woman in black.
Forbidden are we from embracing—
Though I’d abandon everything,
if only I could love her again.

The woman in black, promised to another—
she would become a bride—
still, we met,
under the veil of the night.

Minutes turned to hours;
A place of our own, just the two of us—
Not a single care in the world.
I’d abandon everything,
If only I could love her again.

Her promise became a vow—
We could no longer meet.
Though we were meant to be—weren’t we?
I waited for her, until I could no longer.
I’d abandon everything,
If only I could love her again.

I found her, at last, the bride in black.
She smiled, we embraced—
To be in her arms once more, a dream!
Time froze in that moment,
and then—
A scream
ripped through the night—
full of pain, full of agony.

Seeping through her dress, a dark red hue,
The bride in black breathed her last.
I’d abandon everything,
If only I could love her again.

The one she was to wed,
put a bullet through her head.
And so
Holding her limp body, I wept—
She grew cold.
Time grew still.
I’ll abandon everything,
for I can no longer love her again.

THE FACELESS MAN

A man stood,
as tall as the forest trees—
no expression is seen.
for he is the faceless man.

Those who wandered in,
those who thought him a myth,
they would be toyed with;
for he is the faceless man.

There was no escape,
there was no hope,
they’d wish for a rope,
for he is the faceless man.

Oh, paranoia!
Lost within the trees,
they begin to wheeze,
for he is the faceless man.

Your pounding heartbeat,
vision blurred, mind numbed,
now you know he’s won,
for he is the faceless man.

Chased through countless pain,
you cry out in vain,
you’re no longer sane—
for no one wins the faceless man’s game.