Part II Phantasm: A Gothic Horror Poem

February 8, 2017 at 1:04 pm (Ghost Story, Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Poetry) (, , , , , , )

This is the first part of my gothic horror poem Phantasm:

The opium dens of London’s Chinatown
And Holmes lay on the ground
pursuing the dragon.
For the great detective had lost his heart.
The man immune to the charms of women
had lost his heart…
to a woman.
And what a woman… Anna Li.

They attended concerts together
They attended plays together
They visited museums together
They even danced together.
Yes, Holmes the man immune to passion
had danced.

Then she had said, “Sherlock, I’m sorry but this can’t go on.”
“Can’t go on?” Sherlock asked.
“I’m sorry, Sherlock,” she said, “I don’t love you.”
“Is there another?” Sherlock asked.
Anna was silent.
“There is another,” Sherlock had pointed a finger at her.

Indeed there was another.
Anna Li had been seeing a young English Lord.
Holmes followed them.
The young Lord’s family was against any marriage to Anna Li.
“A most sensible position,” Holmes thought to himself.
But the young Lord and Anna Li were to be married.
They would elope to Gretna Green.
They were to meet in the Estate greenhouse- Holmes listened
to their conversation.
And so Holmes went there.
To the greenhouse that night.
He had opened the greenhouse door and walked in.
Fade to black.

Focus to light- 1888.
Anna Li lay dead on the greenhouse floor.
Dead beneath the box where the red roses grew.
Holmes got up off the floor.
No, the detective thought to himself.
He couldn’t have.
He wouldn’t have.
Had he the solver of crime committed a crime?
Holmes looked down at Anna Li’s body devoid of breath.
And ran out into the night.
Holmes felt it in the air.
A storm was coming.

Fade to black-1924.
Holmes felt his way into the greenhouse and turned the doorknob.
A storm was here.
Focus to light.
Lightning flash.

Katharine Chan stood there.
“Anna?” Holmes approached her.
“I am Katharine,” the young actress replied, “I’m playing Anna in the movie.”
“Is this a trick of yours, Holmes?” The old Lord approached, “Getting Katharine to dress in the actual wedding dress that my beloved Anna wore so many years ago. Is this your way of solving the case you never solved?”.

“No, no,” Holmes looked around, “It wasn’t me. I have nothing whatsoever to do with the dress Miss Chan is wearing at the moment.”
“Then, what are you doing here, Mr. Holmes?” Alfred Hitchcock asked.

“I’ve come to confess… to confess… to confess…” Holmes could not finish the sentence.
“Confess what, Mr. Holmes?” Katharine asked.
Holmes was about to speak again.
When he saw her.

The Ghost of Anna Li

Holmes gazed in horror.
Hitchcock, the English Lord, Katharine, the entire cast and crew followed Holmes’ gaze.
They all gasped.
It was Anna Li.
The ghost of Anna Li.
Wearing a ghostly dress that alternated between the white of 1888 and the yellow of 1924.

She walked towards Sherlock Holmes.

“It’s you, Anna, isn’t it?” Holmes cried,
“This burden has been too much for me.
It was after you died that I started visiting the opium dens.
It was after you died that I started taking a seven per cent solution
… of cocaine.
It wasn’t boredom I was trying to alleviate.
It was the memory of that night.
The night I came to the greenhouse
The night I came to stop your elopement
The night I stepped through the greenhouse door.
The night everything… faded to black.
The night when I came to, you lay dead on the floor…”

“What?” The Lord’s face turned ashen white,
“You were there that night, you bastard.
No wonder you never solved the case.
You murderous bastard…”

Anna Li’s ghost continued to approach Sherlock Holmes.
So close that Holmes could see the reflection in her eyes.
“It is me reflecting in your eyes, isn’t it, Anna?”
Holmes cried,
“The reflection of your murderer.”

Holmes looked into her eyes.
And gasped when he saw the reflection.
The reflection of her murderer.

Another memory came back to Sherlock Holmes.
A memory so shocking
that Holmes had suppressed it until now

Reichenbach Falls, May 4th 1891
“It appears we shall die together, Mr. Holmes,”
Moriarty laughed.
“It appears so, Moriarty,”
Holmes calmly replied.
“But I can’t have us both dying
without letting you know,”
Moriarty laughed again,
“It was I who killed the one you loved.”
“The one I loved?” Holmes looked quizzical.
“The night in the greenhouse, Mr. Holmes,”
Moriarty’s laugh became more and more hysterical,
“The night I strangled your love Anna Li.
I knew all about you and her.
How you had gone to stop her elopement.
But I got there before you.
I strangled her.
Then I saw you approaching.
I knocked you out.
Then dragged your unconscious body next to hers
so when you awoke, you’d think you killed her.
Knowing this would make your life a living Hell,
Mr. Holmes.
Your punishment for being a constant thorn in my side.”

Enraged, Holmes broke loose from Moriarty’s grip
and threw the evil Moriarty downwards to his death
over the Falls.
“For Anna,” Holmes said before he fell to the ground.
Fade to black.

“I did kill Anna,” Holmes whispered
as Anna Li’s ghost vanished
and the storm stopped,
“I killed her by loving her.
And Moriarty killed her
because I loved her.”

And with that, Holmes’ focus to light
was a fade to black.

-A gothic horror poem
written by Christopher
Friday February 3rd


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: