100 Word Story: This Must Be Hell

This must be Hell!  

Confusion clouds my senses as I sit drenched in sweat consumed by the blackness of this void.  I have clawed and scratched at the coarse stone walls for all these many hours to no avail.  The sting of broken nails and bloody fingers are the only reward for my efforts.

Pressing up, the ceiling offers no means of escape.  Instead the jagged rocky teeth tear my forearms and hands to ribbons…I am trapped!

Uncontrollable tears stream down my cheeks as I am resigned to my fate, that Hell is real and I’m going to die.


~~ Dominic R. DIFrancesco ~~

Hell’s Minion – A Dark Poem

Image Credit: goodreads.com

Image Credit: goodreads.com

A mist lay o’er the old town square,

As candles flicker in cottage eyes,

To venture out, no one may dare,

Emboldened fool will surely die.


In darkened night the moon lay black,

Unearthly pitch to ward off man,

Fear for those who’ve not come back,

Fell prey to Satan’s ghastly plan.


Yon forest breaths the caw of crows,

Hoot Owls cry echoes resound,

In what direction no one knows,

From high above the mossy ground.


What Hell bestowed on sky and earth,

In shrill and curdling scream,

Instilled by evils wretched birth,

Unfurled in nightmarish dream.


The butcher lay to weed us out,

His sickle bathed in blood and spoils,

Gullet cut, no voice to shout,

Easy prey…Nay! sweatless toil.


Demon cloaked in onyx murk,

Ne’er seen with mortal’s naked view,

O’ terror, we shan’t let caution shirk,

Vigilant we must all struggle through.


Pray to God the sun will rise,

Beseech the villain back to Hell,

Look upon Heaven to flay disguise,

Release from prison where we dwell.


Still sun will set and night will grow,

No closer to trapping the horrid beast,

In faces of strangers and kin we know,

Who next be the blood bathed gory feast.


A tap at the door…whom by God could it be,

Overwhelmed with the play of the mind,

Ever slow did I open through pitch could not see,

Peeking head ‘round the door from behind.


Twas it wind, or rain, mayhaps a stone at it threw,

I presumed was a knock at the door,

Mustered courage did I gather to do what I must do,

As I shuffled myself to the porch.


An icy chill did rise, up the length of my spine,

As the door slammed behind me with haste,

Extinguishing candles, immersing me blind,

Backing up in my steps I did trace.


My next to last step to my knees did I fall,

At the boots of a figure in black,

Turning ‘round, sure to face my funeral pall,

To the side of my head he did crack.


Taste of blood on my lips, as the iron from a fire,

Blurred vision as I’m yanked by my hair,

To my feet I was dragged to the square of the shire,

Say a word, nay I wouldn’t have dared.


In silence, with strength this devil held tight,

Pray I did, for my soul to please save,

As courage I gathered with all of my might,

I begged for my death to be staved.


With sickle in hand I knew time was through,

Pay the piper for sins of my youth,

Upright and firm, though in pain it was true,

In death sins be hidden from truth.


Blade razor sharp from my neck blood did fall,

Crimson rivers down my chest it did spill,

A stroke from the edge warm and tired was all,

Up to God I commit all my will.


When daybreak did come to reveal gruesome site,

To Hell where the demon had fled,

Nary trace did he leave from his pitch darkened flight,

Except for the shire dwellers head.


A century on, Satan’s minion ne’er captured,

Legend passed down through third generations,

Unsettled and fearful still awaiting the rapture,

Asking God for consoling libations.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Dread of Night

Howling winds under amber moon,

Barren oaks crackle dry and brittle,

Skipping leaves rustle, dead and fallen,

As dogs aghast, bay at the dreadful night,

How eerie trembling in fright unfolds.

Shadows long and deep bury the living,

Cast down upon the earth in a tumultuous dance,

Sights and sounds of Hell inspired.

Whilst blackened figures roam unhindered,

Tricking eyes and mind to terror.

Spying what in logic can not be real,

Hence, even this is of no solace,

As synapse take their nightmarish toll,

Painting masterpiece of horror contrived.

With shutters locked taut, to hold back the fear,

Blankets drawn tight up over head,

Eyes pursed hard to block out the light,

We lay in silence to hide from the dead.

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

Love Lost in a Mind Field

By D. R. DiFrancesco


I turn to find you gone,

This windowless doorless prison smothers me,

Stilling my bloodied heart,

All that is left to me are tears.


Why did she leave, echos in my tormented head,

A whisper nagging at my last nerve,

Shuddering at the thought of abandonment,

Trapped and curled in a position most fetal.


Questioning my very existence,

I claw at the walls wailing for release,

Nails broken, crimson shards surround me,

Dropping to my knees I sit in utter defeat.


A darkness sets as I fall prone,

Naked and vulnerable the coarse stone chills me to the bone,

Jagged sharpness scars tender flesh,

Dulling the pain of your retreat.


I struggle for composure,

Reaching out in the dark praying for your touch,

Doomed, I’m left drowning in solitary silence,

Drenched in the perspiration of despair.


Why have I been left to this hellish place,

Did I not offer enough of myself to you,

Did I not cradle you in my loving passion,

What else could I have done?


Sobbing I struggle to breathe,

Lamenting your loss I pound at the blood stained floor,

Begging for merciful forgiveness,

Your reply…only suffocating solitude.


Passing seems imminent,

In desperation, euthanasia would be welcome,

I couldn’t have deserved such loneliness,

Quivering with exhaustion, I drift eternal sleep.


Startled in a flush of adrenaline,

Wringing with sweat I strain to rise,

Where have you been, dribbles from my jaw tight lips,

Her blue eyes speak, by your side, to my nightmarish dream.

The Insomniac

By D. R. DiFrancesco


I lie,

Head cradled in a pillow of down,

Soft and warm still I can not sleep.


Thoughts race through my wild mind,

Exhausting me as I seek out slumber,

Knowing that it eludes me again.


This inescapable race,

Taunts me, dangling a carrot in front of my unwilling mind,

Exploiting the weakness in me.


To what end,

As dawn breaks ending another night of torment,

I am mentally weary as I slip from between the silken sheets.


Awake in the physical only,

I lumber through the day a mere shell of who I am,

Begging for respite from myself.


Seeking sanctuary in melatonin and sleeping pills,

Face down in a self-induced coma,

I struggle to release my mind from this torture.


Relief is only temporary,

A solitary night of dreamless repose,

Refreshing just shy of expiration.


Insomnia, my uninvited friend,

My companion through hours of darkness,

Like a relative come to visit and never leaves.


Eviction seems so distant,

As opportunity for lethargy escapes,

Overwhelming me with inexorable nights of tumult.

Weary Traveler

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Awaking bleary eyed I wipe the sleep from my bloodshot eyes,

Sensing my solitude, I reached for you but you are not there,

The faintest sliver of light passes between the hastily drawn curtains,

Revealing my bed, damp and crumpled and void of you.


Out of utter concern I rose, suddenly unfamiliar with my surroundings,

The feel of carpet under foot was in no way comforting,

Stubbing a toe on the nightstand I cried out in pain and for you!

But there was no reply to my labored pleading.


I’m suddenly alert from the throbbing and solemnity,

The weakest of smiles takes root on my unshaven face,

As unfamiliarity gives way to focus I slump incredulously at the beds edge,

Muttering under my breath, I must travel less and get more sleep.

The Dead of Night (A Poem)

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Nightfall settles in
Overtaking the light
Howling, hooting, cawing sounds
Startled, peering up, down, left, right
Noise from all directions
Fear and angst clutter the mind.

Irrational thoughts of dread
Rustling leaves and brush
Freeze as though flash frozen
“What’s that?” said internally
“Nothing but the wind.” the reply
Nerves pricking the skin like a million needles.

Trembling, feeling breathless
Shadows unfold, something is watching
Moonlight and movement weave their tale
Nonsense as the pace hastens
Trying to outrun torment
Trepidation weighs heavy.

Lightening flashes, knees weaken
Surroundings visible in the flash
Lost, the scene barbaric
Foreboding wrenches at the soul
Uncontrollable, Tears flow in streams
Screaming, the only respite.

Senses amble untamed
Drenched, sweat cold and moist
Disoriented struggling to find the way
Surreal, clutching the sheets
Muscles tighten, eyes open with a jolt
Relieved it was only a nightmare.