The Dark Verse (Horror and Fantasy Fiction Podcast)

[Sharkchild]

Originally Posted by Zero

are there any monkeys in this story??

No, but something equally as mischievous.

[Sharkchild]

The Song Of Dusty Hearts, Episode 34 of The Dark Verse, is ready to delight the dark longings of your ears.

Listen to it or download it at TheDarkVerse.com

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Excerpt:

When I was young, my grandfather often brought me to the burial grounds of the nethpa, and every time he led me over some barren hill, or down some hidden trail, or through some thick forest, he would share with me how I might find such a rare and extraordinary place.

“The resting grounds of the nethpa can be found all around—the middle of a prairie, the center of a deep cavern, the dunes of an unending desert—but most never know they are there,” he would tell me. “The site must be undisturbed. By first glance there should be nothing unusually noticed; but, after giving it a second look, and knowing what you are looking for, those of the cunning eye would be able to discern the speckled dust.” At this time, my grandfather would stick his hand deep into the soil, dirt, or whatever rested beneath him, grab some, and hold it up so I could see. While my curious eyes burned into the contents, he would slightly shuffle some free. He then continued speaking. “And there, almost as clear as white chalk against the pit of a blackboard, the ashes of the nethpa can be seen.”

There was only one rule my grandfather had while visiting the nethpa: no singing. “Never sing to the ashes,” he always said. “The nethpa have hollow hearts and the sound of music fills and enlivens them; it reminds them of their deaths and allows them to act against them. They are not of the violent kind, but they, like any, would choose life over death.”

[Sharkchild]

Give a listen to Episode 35, A Megacosm's Secret Initiation Of Members.

NOTE: I completed putting together The Dark Verse's Volume I hardcover book (first 26 stories of The Dark Verse edited and revised) and it is now in the printer's hands. This grand book will most likely be available in April. It will have 5.5"x8.5" dimensions; be covered with black imitation leather; be stamped with silver foil on the cover, back, and spine; be dusted with black on all three sides of the pages; and it will include all original artwork by John F. Stifter (QuantumCathedral.com) for the cover, endsheets, and each of the 26 stories. It's going to be good!

Listen to it or download it at TheDarkVerse.com

Or use iTunes

Excerpt:

“Have you ever looked over the edge of the world?” asked the young girl sitting beside me on the train. At the time, we were passing by mountains strewn with large boulders, but my attention was on the features of the girl. Her hair was dark and her skin was light. Unusual rainbows graced her eyes, causing them to look like crystal prisms. When the train first departed, someone I assumed to be her mother had left her in the seat adjacent to mine; the train was rather full.

“No, I haven’t,” I responded. “I actually didn’t know that the world had an edge.” I did not confront the girl on the logic of her question because I was quite intrigued to learn more. “Have you?” I asked.

“Once,” she said, “but I can’t anymore.” She continued to look at me, head turned to the side, although she said nothing more. Her gaze was very stiff.

[Sharkchild]

Get Episode 36, Confronting The Formless!

The Dark Verse Volume I hardcover book is getting closer and closer to publication. I will be receiving a press proof of the book to approve within the next couple weeks. This is the last step! The Dark Verse is entering into the world of books!

Listen to it or download it at TheDarkVerse.com

Or use iTunes

Excerpt:

The infinite regions within divisibility were my home. I existed in the distances of space—space void of finite ends. In these unfathomable places there was only emptiness; it was all that I had ever known. No matter where I traveled, I could find nothing different—for something boundless could not be filled, and something that could not be filled could not be whole. Almost all things inhabited the emptiness. My residence itself was tucked away in the spaces between mass. Anything corporeal had form and anything that had form could not be whole—no matter how big, no matter how small. Universes themselves resided within the gaps between pieces of atoms.

Space was everywhere there was substance and so greatness was with the powers of the ethereal—the soul, the principalities, good, evil. Their designs were unbreakable because they were not restricted to any form; shells of uncertain growth and uncontrollable molecules did not inhibit them. These unhindered entities were the Formless. The elements of the Formless could be anywhere—around me, in me, between me. They had what I did not have, and I hated that. The Formless and their orchestras of undivided existence were my enemies.

[Sharkchild]

www.Immurement.com

[Sharkchild]

Listen to Episode 37, The Deviations!

I received the press proof for The Dark Verse Volume I hardcover book and it is incredible! There are a couple more changes to make and then we are going to print with the volume.

Listen to it or download it at TheDarkVerse.com

Or use iTunes

Excerpt:

The dreams I had while I slept in the unsanctified darkness of the Slanterhorn Estate mansion’s attic were never pleasant. As I stared up into the ancient rafters, letting my body and mind be overcome by sleep’s oblivion, I sensed that the world of twisted things somehow pressed more mercilessly on such sites—places tucked so far away that light had lost its memory of them. If only a needle of day could have penetrated the dense capsule of my home, my heart would have been at ease.

There were no luxuries for me in the attic. There was a stiff, wooden stool, a wooden cabinet of clothes, a small table, a very uncomfortable bed, and two lanterns that were consistently replenished with oil. The rest of the attic was empty; nothing but darkness lived there. Not even the lanterns’ light could reach its far off distances.

My arrangement of items always remained by the iron door in the floor and I was not able to move them had I even wanted to. Each and every piece of furniture was bolted securely into the floorboards. The lanterns as well were bolted down—one upon the cabinet and one upon the table. Without being able to transport light, I never even dared to explore the full extent of the eerie loft.

I often made requests to have my quarters moved elsewhere in the Slanterhorn Estate, but Miss Donna always gave me a variation of these words: “It’s just not right for a boy of your stature to mix with the likes of our lords and ladies. Even Stickles sleeps with me out in the shed. You must simply accept your place.” But I could not accept my place, and I hated the attic.

[Sharkchild]

Download Episode 38, The Taking Of Hallowed Creation!

Get it at TheDarkVerse.com

Or on iTunes

Excerpt:

The precious silver hovered over the menacingly heated embers. Its surfaces glimmered and sparkled with the reflection of flickering ash. Every curve and groove of this magnificent creation completed in shape to form the perfect fork—the Serpent’s Fork. A long slender handle fell downward, widening at the bottom into a wonder of embossed swirls. The head opened into four piercing tines, each with a precision of cut and detail to match the horn of a unicorn.

While the Serpent’s Fork suspended above the blazing embers, the heat began to influence the metal. The trueness of the Fork’s substance waned as it slowly unfolded with expansion. The head of the Fork bent forward and then the tines sagged to the sides—two tines to the left and two to the right. As they drooped downward they curled—the innermost tines twisting tremendously while the outer two only slightly.

Just as the molten Fork reached this moment of design, a gust of icy wind surged across it and the ledge that the burning embers laid upon, high within an almighty canyon.

“Splendid,” the Articraft said, before walking up to the circle of cooled ashes and grasping the Serpent’s Fork from the air. His voice lingered in the canyon’s hold. The Articraft’s hair was wild and gray, but his years were still youthful. He wore a dark blue vest, leather pants, and boots. The shadows in his eyes were deep, as were his longings for the unattainable.

[Zero]

out of curiosity - does the website get a lot of hits?

[Sharkchild]

Sorry for the late response. My website actually doesn't get that many hits. Most of the activity for the podcast comes from iTunes or other RSS feed websites. Since I began the podcast, I have had over 85,000 downloads--only a small percentage of those downloads have come from my actual site.

[Sharkchild]

Download Episode 39, Stumbling Upon Preterition!

Get it at TheDarkVerse.com

On iTunes

Or on Zune

Excerpt:

There are dismissed places—not forgotten or invisible—but ignored without refrain. The devils of these domains are so vibrant that beings of any awareness trick their minds to see right through them, or around them—anything to succeed with avoidance. Nightmares are detrimental, but to gaze into these aces of sinister rule is to gaze at life tangled in the shards of splintering dread.

Odd might be the first word used to describe the terrains of such places. Different, bizarre, fantastical—these words work fine as well. But the topographies are only a warning—an alert to the unfortunate as to what comes if lingering turns to loitering. The Princes of Unnamed Horror are not for eyes to see, ears to hear, or mouths to taste. They are the overlooked, the repulsive, the shameful, and the blemishes of the most wicked existences. If only the act of their dismissal had the power to make them disappear. But such hope matters not—I stumbled upon them.