Killer Slugs from the Haunted Lake
Do not go out at night
Killer Slugs from the Haunted Lake
No ripple warned of what would rise
the lake lay still beneath the skies
but something moved beneath that gloss
a silken hiss, a weight, a loss
The village knew, but spoke in code
don’t swim at dusk, don’t take that road
the waters seemed too dark, too wide
some swore they saw things crawl inside
They came with trails of rotted green
too fast for slugs, too slick, too keen
they bore no shell, no eyes, no face
just silent mouths and feeding grace
A man went missing near the reeds
they found his boots, his watch, some beads
but not his hands, not what he’d screamed
just smears where something dark had gleamed
At night they slide from weed and slime
to hunt in packs, in perfect time
no fire scares them, no fence holds
they flatten steel and gut the bold
The townsfolk pray, or drink, or flee
they leave the lake to misery
and still it waits, that breathing glass
where slugs like demons slowly pass
And if you go, you go alone
your blood, your name, your flesh, your bone
they’ll leave your voice to hum and quake
beneath the mud of that cursed lake
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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By Harper Lewis3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
What a frightening and even kind of disgusting poem if you know what I mean. Good job.
wow very horror
🌫️ Absolutely chilling. The eerie calm of the lake contrasted with the creeping dread of the slugs makes this piece feel like a living nightmare. The line "they’ll leave your voice to hum and quake beneath the mud of that cursed lake" gave me actual goosebumps. 🐌💀 This reads like a dark folktale passed down through terrified whispers — haunting, original, and terrifyingly vivid.