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Thursday, June 28, 2018

The Wolf

The wolf is at her door
Shh he’s there to implore
Come here my little pet
Your fate with me is set

She sidles over to the beast
Is she going to be his feast?
She sighs waiting for a blow
But he approaches her so slow

“Little red I need to be fed,”
He tells her, “Now get to bed”
“Remove your cape
Accept your fate”

“Become my faithful mate”
She plays the game
Of give and take
The wolf she heard is quite a rake.

But once to bed
Her pleasures she is fed
The Wolf now so bold
Yes for her he has that hold

The Wolf is at her door
And will be hers forever more
Her color so bold and red
Alive and not yet dead

Ethan Radcliff

Coming soon licks

Interview with a Wolf
Ethan Radcliff

Prelude: A tasty Blonde
When he woke up the taste of stale blood lingered on his tongue. Visions of gore and blood whirled around in his mind. Beside him lay a buxom blonde and by the rise and fall of her well-endowed chest, she was still breathing. He let out a sigh of relief.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
She didn’t have a scratch on her.
“Then why the hell do I still have the taste blood and the vision of a kill in my head,” he said trying to clear his mind. “And,” he paused “How the hell did I get here? Better yet,” he whispered moving from her, “How the hell did I wind up in bed with her?
The last he remembered, he was on his way to the village, to SoHo and to one of his favorite bistros. He wasn’t searching for a kill, no; he wanted a great vanilla latte from a small bistro on Bleecker Street. How he wound up in a sleazy hotel with a hooker, he couldn’t remember. Christ, he could afford the finest call girls in town, a street whore? It had to be his inner self taking control. As he turned and sat up he could feel the hunger raging inside.
“Control,” he said quietly. “You need to get your hunger under control. Tonight isn’t the night for hunting.”
As of late, he’d had a few blackouts. He wasn’t too concerned, because they only lasted a few seconds, however, tonight had been different.
A hand ran across his lips. The taste of blood lingered. He had blacked out again. He racked his brain for a memory and then it came flashing back.
The hunger began deep in his belly. For years he’d been able to fight the gnawing need, but for some reason the lure last night was too great. It took him off track and ruled his brain. The Brooklyn piers harbored a great deal of seedy characters and that’s where he found the unfortunate drunk. The way he hunted the poor soul was classic and when he’d gained his confidence, he tore him to pieces.  What was left of him he let fall into the East River. There the remnants would become food for whatever lurked in the murky waters.
“Shit,” he mumbled as he stared up at the dingy, dark, pealing ceiling in the room. His night vision lit up the room. He was alert and his need to remember raging in his mind. 

Tuesday, June 26, 2018

Is she your fantasyIs this where you want to beIn her loving armsUnder her lovely charms
Think again my boyShe's no ordinary toyShe's royalty you seeAnd eternal beauty
Not for any normal manIn this normal lifespanShe's for the fallen heroFor a King for a Pharaoh
Skin so soft and pureNot for any man to endureShe's made of silver dustAngel's forbidden lust
You may beg for a tasteLonging on your pathetic faceBut she will tease you Prompting you with Angel's brew
But you're no holy warriorOr a goodness courierYou my lad have been hadBy evil and are not worthyTo proceed on her journey
To the clouds aboveTo be gifted of her loveYou see she may be Your fantasy
But my boy this oneWill never, never beFor she belongs to meThe warrior of her heartIn death is where our love will start
Ethan Radcliff ©2018

Crawl my beauty

Do your evil duty

Kiss the evil

Kiss the devil

Embrace the dark

Love and decadence

An unholy trance

Become his bride

Stay evil and alive

He rules the undead

All emotions are led

By the ruler of hell

Here's his woeful tale

He never truly fails

Ethan Radcliff 2018*.