The Creature
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The Creature
"The Creature" is a gothic horror folklore poem by American writer Ryan Handshue. First published to the Lulu.com bookstore in November of 2024, it was well received by the community. The poem follows an old man that tells a story of a mysterious creature that tormented his home town.
Synopsis
An unknown narrator recalls a story that was told by the old Mr. Billingswall when he was just a little boy on "old winter nights." The story was of a grotesque creature that tormented the hills and plains around the town. When writer, Mac Jolk who journeyed to the town to write about the creature, only to dissapear and be killed at the hands of the creature. When the narrator becomes older, he wonders whether the story - and Billingswall - were ever real. This poem is a perfect exploration of the blur of reality and myth and the great powers of storytelling.
The Poem
Through the misty hills and ominous plains
A creature rules over everything
A hideous beast the world does not know
Silently stalking its prey down below
It raids the houses of those who sing
And whose children cry at night
But I, have found it’s past untold
By all except Mr. Billingswall
He was a man of great age
Knowledgeable of everything
He could talk and talk for hours on
Of the creature that destroyed his home
When he was just a boy
He would always start on those old winter nights
By turning off the lights
And turning to his winter rocking chair
Sitting down without a care
He told of how the creature moved
Of how the creature thought
Prowling through that winter night
It saw the lights of the town below
And descended like a bird of prey
Upon the good citizens of Lake Bay
The creature was a great big thing
With long hair and a wicked grin
Its teeth were sharp and it had twisted claws
It snarled and growled a wicked song
Its tusks were curved above its lips
Two twisted pieces of terror for those
Who wrote about him in a sorrow prose
For he and only he alone knew about the poetry wrote
By men who believed the legends galore and
Hoped to seek him out
These same men they disappeared forever and for always
For they had fallen to the beast, the wicked creature’s tusks
On that night when the beast descended
On that sleeping town
There was a writer by the name of Mac Jolk and he was famous around
And Mr. Jolk was in my house and he was writing down
Ideas for his poem about this creature and how,
The creature hated Mac, he did not like his work
For Mac had journeyed up the hills his notebook in hand
Hoping to meet the infamous creature famous throughout the lands
When Mac had come, the creature was forced to hide
For Mac had brought dozens of men journeying by his side
They had pitchforks and lanterns and flames that licked the sky
As they hunted for the creature like they had so many other times
That night when Mac wrote, the creature began his revolt.
It descended down upon the town
Causing damage all around
The creature did not care about a thing
It just wanted revenge from the people that sought to hurt it
When it reached the home of Mr. Billingswall
It ripped the door and caused terror throughout
When it was done, the only one spared was Billingswall
And he saw the creature as it left
It had piercing yellow eyes
A great grin
And it left with Mac over its shoulder
Mr. Billingswall would eventually leave in despair
And the town would be forgotten
For all time
When he finished, he had a tired look in his eye
He let out a heavy sigh
He always finished by letting us know
That nights when the stars didn’t glow
You might be able to hear
The soft cry from the creature up there
Or when it was a cold night
The creature’s yellow eyes might burn
Into your window when it is your turn
When I was young
I wondered if Billingswall told an olde wives tale
But now I’m wise
And I understand
There was no man named Mr. Billingswall