The Cursed Sisters
A Devil's play things
The new moon brought with it a hollow stillness that left the Devil restless. So at the moon’s first light, he harvested sin and thorns to craft eight cursed sisters. He wished them to be undying, so he made their hearts from stone. He wished them to be clever, so he stole the feathers and beaks from crows and crushed them together to make their brains. He wished them to be beautiful, so he plucked stars from the sky and settled them in their eyes. He wished them to be powerful, so he gave them each a gift.
Eleanor moved where darkness pooled and had razor sharp teeth. She was the silence before disaster.
Ivory could spit acid. Mold grew at her fingertips, and anything she touched went through a living decay.
Maisie was a master of dark magic. Her specialty was brewing sweet-smelling poisons that could siphon a soul.
Clover could peel shadows from the ground and turn them sentient, operating on their own free will. Her voice could be heard disembodied through their mouthless existence.
Selma would shed her skin and reshape her bones. She lured people in by speaking in the voices of the beloved dead.
Beth controlled water. She would laugh as she filled lungs with fluid, caused floods, turned water into blades, and summon reversed rain.
Marin cast delusions and hallucinations — waking nightmares. She placed vile thoughts in minds, created visions of their worst fears, and could warp time to trap people in a state of freeze.
For a fortnight, the Devil cherished his daughters. He was devoted, spending all of his time with them. He delighted in how they tortured souls and caused mayhem and bloodshed, not particular of who was a victim of their gifts.
They were perfect.
But, by the full moon, he grew bored of them. He found their beauty repetitive, their cruelty rehearsed.
He became neglectful.
They became desperate.
Bitter and angry, the sisters abandoned the Devil and his Hell. Disgusted by the beauty and joys of Earth, they traveled wreaking havoc. Secretly, they hoped to gain the attention of the Devil once more…
Sin and mud-born flesh are fused
Leeches leaving moldy bruises
Rotten breath and raven caws
Shadows oozing from the walls
Silence that will eat you whole
A smell so sweet may steal your soul.
Reversed rain falls in the night
And nightmares wake with open eyes.
Phantom laughs, bone and tongues,
Stagnant water, quiet hums.
Red lips curl to sharp-toothed smiles
Breath on your neck, throat full of bile.
Vacant eyes make ashen tombs
Draw their gaze — and they come for you.
I’m glad you’re here.
What a deep poem sending chills down my spine.