Bury The Dead

 

Thanks, M&J!

Recent Acquistions

Picked up an insane cement tombstone and a massive iron cauldron for a steal at the aforemtioned Collectors Bazaar.  

That cauldron (over two feet across) will surely be making an appearance in a future Haunt.  

He's Dead Because Mommy Killed Him

I even took his knives.

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The Shadow Of Death

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The Reaper Of Jackula's Castle

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The Fourth Seal

When the Lamb opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, "Come!" I looked and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth.

Image by JASS 413.

That Stuff

My dad dropped by this past weekend.  He saw my old wooden scythe in the corner of my dining room and said "Oh, you're still into that stuff?"  And I replied "Yes, dad, I am still into that stuff."

He meant Halloween stuff.  Not old farming implements stuff.

I told him I cut my lawn with it.

The Armies Of The Night

Image by ET Photographic.

Who Wields Me Wields The World

He talked to the old man, getting no answers.

"You worked the field all your life because you _had_ to, and one day you came across your own life growin' there. You knew it was yours. You cut it. And you went home, put on your grave clothes, and your heart gave out and you died. That's how it was, wasn't it? And you passed the land on to me, and when I die, I'm supposed to hand it over to someone else."

Drew's voice had awe in it. "How long a time has this been goin' on? With nobody knowin' about this field and its use except the man with the scythe . . ."

Quite suddenly he felt very old. The valley seemed ancient, mummified, secretive, dried and bent and powerful. When the Indians danced on the prairie it had been here, this field. The same sky, the same wind, the same wheat. And, before the Indians? Some Cro-Magnon, gnarled and shag-haired, wielding a crude wooden scythe, perhaps, prowling down through the living wheat.

Ray Bradbury, The Scythe

This Has It All

A giant wobbly spider, her webs, a cemetery, body parts, a skeleton, and a scythe.  

Image by Krystal.

Samhain In The Shadows

 

Lost

Before mine eyes in opposition sits
Grim Death, my son and foe. 

John Milton

Image by FirstSpartan.

The Butcher Of Provincetown

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The Return Of The Greenwood Reaper

Image by Shutterbug Fotos.

Beware

Pandora's Mourning Rose Manor.

Mortality

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Pumpkins And Scythe

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Death

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