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Here’s a little adaptation I wrote of a mix between Poe and Lovecraft. I was having a little too much fun with this one:

Once more I hear the rapping on the door I know I am alone yet it raps once more. Three times before that I heard it before and I know I’m not mad I heard it for sure. Alone in my slumber I desire ever more to be in that state with nothing but snore, but surely something raps at my door and there again I hear it once more! Perhaps it is the wind, a bird, or a cat. Whatever it is it woke me from nap. Shivers up my spine, tingling in my skull, a wrenching grip I feel in my bowels. Each of these feelings I don’t quite get I’ve known them before it’s been so long a sensation so pure yet I forget. I hear it again! This time it’s louder! It’s followed by a voice screaming, “Bring me the powder!” I turn and I turn yet I can’t gain ground. There is nowhere to go my God I’ve been found! A loud explosion rocks the ground. They clamor and crawl and look around. I see again the sky, the trees, and the stars. I see also a wretched sight, a group of men wielding shovels and light. Out of darkness my eyes they fed on the stars, the moon, and the light that they shed. Now I recoil at the sight of men. I cover my face and I moan at them. The shivers, the tingles, the grip in my bowls, I feel them again but more vicious this time. A lantern is hung over me; it burns my bones it shines on me and above on the stones. One of them yells, “My God it aint dead!” I turn my gaze to read above the stone that says, “Here Lays Ted.”