Streams of Being #3
October 2025
Streams of Horror
Far away, across a room in my mind’s eye, stands a shadow behind a circle of light. A red path opens up for me, a carpet of needles and spikes aimed at my bare feet. All around me in that dark room is a blazing fire and heavy smoke, urging me forward. I must trudge this path. I must face the shadow whose image I itch to forget.
I take one, two, three steps, and the blood pools beneath me, intensifying the red hues, while silver tips emerge from the top of my feet. They become as full of holes as my wicked heart, yet still hurting less than knowing that I will inevitably have to stare at your visage.
I wonder which deity of inevitability chose to mark me for this moment. Which one of them has prepared themselves a delicious feast from the blood dripping from my feet, seasoned with the salt your image mines from my irises. They must have known how hard I fought to erase you from my skin, how hard I fought to never seek you out again.
I can no longer walk by the end of this path. On my knees, I lift my head to see you turn around. All over you are inscriptions of my flaws, my defects, my failures, my monstrosities. All over you are the things you made me turn into, and the ones I made you. You allow the window to frame your face, to reveal a countenance as horrifying as mine. You are the mirror that brings out my worst versions into the light.
Grave
I hear you You're calling for me I pray that you stop I do not want to make my way back to you Leave your potions and blood rituals alone Do not call for me anymore You're looming above me In the dark, wet, cold stone Chanting my name But I don't want to return to you I do not want to walk a path to the other side If that other side means that there's you
Rituals
Pierce my skin with your claws Mark your animalistic teeth For all I care I will never be yours again Even if it's all in my mind I am not returning to your cold embrace You cannot summon me To be a part of your devouring rituals
Mirrors
On the other side there is a shadow It walks beside mine Same pain Same size I do not want to cross the road to meet it But it calls and it calls and it calls for me Its voice grips my throat a bit too tight Whenever I dare to believe I have found some peace of mind It pulls a thread from my body And sends its fire through it to burn me So when I am finally forced to face it I realise you've looked just like me for a while
Waltz of Fire
In the centre of a dim-lit ballroom Stands a fire It burns and it burns and it burns away our shadows As we waltz around it for an endless night Your nails scratch and scrape away elements of my skin Until I am but rotting flesh and failing bones Almost scorching to death, So close to scorching to death But nothing could kill me quicker than your eyes Your deep, dark, merciless, wicked, starry eyes Not even the smoke filling my lungs and my exerted legs Could steal away my breath like they can My dress catches some of the flames And they envelop us both in their blazing pain Still, I can't die Not unless you first say goodbye
Nails
You nailed me against the wall And left I’ve stayed here for centuries And can’t get out Larvae have taken a hold of my body Still, I can’t disintegrate You’ve nailed me so well Not even death can take me away The rats have tried for their share And even a vulture coming from the chimney, But they had to return whichever chunks they took For fear you would find out any part of me could escape and go after you You never wanted me to follow you in the first place, But what am I if not your faithful and loyal servant?
For Your Eyes Only
Said you didn’t like my hair So I cut it Said you didn’t like my belly So I removed it Said you didn’t like my arms So I unscrewed them Said you didn’t like my face So I raked it Only an eye was spared To stare at your beautiful countenance And to feel the fire from your piercing gaze, But when I looked at you I saw That you had in you All of the things you didn’t want me to have
Upon an Eerie Full Moon’s Night
There’s a special kind of cold that drapes over the skin of the warded by a full moon’s night. It lingers, and, somehow, warms the heart. I was one of such people, so softly embraced by it. Aimlessly wandering through the midnight streets, through the damp and muddy pavement, covering my mouth from the foul smells, running away from you.
Amidst all my panic, victim to an anxious haze, flashes of my escape echoed through my mind, banging against the walls of my skull, begging to get out, even if only through a pitiful and guttural scream. But I had to keep myself in check, I ought not to make a scene. Who knows what other kind of maniacs could come after me in these deserted streets?
Still, the candles I scorched your tainted skin with kept dancing wildly in my heart, the fire I had hidden behind, enabling my escape. It was my latest protector from your malicious games, venomous words, and violent fits. Your kindness and gentleness a distant dream of a memory. Our days were made of broken glass and bruised body parts. We vowed each instant to destroy each other, but you were always stronger. I had to flee. I had begun to become too much like you.
Lord knows for how I long I had been marching, still trying to figure out where I would find a place to rest that night. The money in my pocket even smaller than the few available options. Then I heard a strange sound. Hurried and determined footsteps. Then another, stranger, sound. The heavy breathing of an angry man. I looked behind me to see your silhouette. You had come to collect me again.
Love Rituals
Ablaze in the sky, the stars shone brightly on a moonless night. The song of a nightingale echoed through the forest, complemented by the sacred hooting of owls. The wild boars pranced around, paying us no mind, while the deer hid from us behind greying bushes. Taken by your hand, I knew you had come to sacrifice me.
After all, it was the right time. You couldn’t become too attached to a girl for longer than you already had. You had to feed me to the gods of your upcoming success. You laid me on a plane patch of dewy grass where I could at least count the constellations before I died. I understood how hard it must’ve been for you. You didn’t want to dispose of me. But happiness doesn’t let you grow. And if you love a girl more than she loves you, it’s only a hindrance. Best to sacrifice them while you still don’t.
So, you took out your knife and started to chant all of the ways you were glad I hadn’t had the opportunity to love you. Then you stabbed me, but nothing happened. You stabbed me again, and still nothing happened. You stabbed me once more, and my face contorted into a vile smile. It was my turn. You should’ve known that you can’t sacrifice a girl that you love more than she does you.
Rings of Fire
My Dearest Evan,
I sit here crying above your tombstone. How am I to accept that I am never going to see you again? How am I to continue without your bright smile? These last few days, waking up without you has been a most cruel chore. You were my light, my guidance, my protector. I am lost without you, my dear Evan.
What role am I supposed to fulfil, now that I am no longer your loyal and loving wife? Now that my days no longer revolve around you and the time I have for myself has somehow extended itself. I have to find out who I am beyond our love and your commanding presence. I am jumping through rings of fire, trying to find a semblance of myself on the other side. And there is nothing more exciting.
It saddens me to see you go, but now you understand why I had to, right, my strongest love? You were too present, too permanent. Too dictating and too all-consuming. I had no life of my own, no right of existence beyond your shadow. You caged me, and I tried to play it nicely, I swear I did, but to no avail. No matter what I did, freedom is the only thing that can’t be truly bought.
With Love, Your Dearest Susanne
Here is the PFD with the texts and the designs I made with so much love, totally for free. I hope you enjoy it <3!
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Adorei este zine! É um tema curioso, o romântico terror.