The Hanging TreeThe Hanging Tree by Caylee-Slansen
The Hanging Tree is
Singing sweetly on the moor.
No longer afraid.
Bon AppetitLong ago in a farm long the wayBon Appetit by FireEmber345
There was a small pig who was as pretty as the day
Her tail was curly
Her skin was pink
The porker was Mary Marley
From the farm La Trink
The farmer was a very old man
And not very fast that to understand
Mary had a sister and brother
They cared for her like no other
Though they both agreed that she is adorable
The poor little swine was quite gullible
The Brother was grey and a name of Greg
He was known for his scars and his peg leg
To those who had wonder what had happen to him
Greg would answer that his fate was less grim
For he was young a child at least
When he came face to face with a hungry beast
The creature attacked him in a very fast pace
But in the end beast was met with a mace
He warned his sister that if a creature acts too sweet
That it could be a monster saying "bon appetit"
During this time in the woods
There was a creature that the birds called a hood
He was known as Hungry Ringo
A deadly and clever Dingo
Ringo was getting tired of his pr
Welcome to Timmy The Reaper
<- this guy is the writer of TtR! He has allowed me to post all his chapters into DA which is what this group is dedicated to.
This is also a place you can send and view work that has a "dark/supernatural" theme in it.
To join simply click the join button .
After becoming a member you may submit your art please note it needs to be "dark" or "supernatural" work.
When submitting work please can you make sure to submit to the correct folders else your work will be declined.
Please make sure all works are completed and not WIP else they shall be declinded also.
Also please make sure any work that needs a mature warning, has it. Though no 18+ shall be accepted at this time.
You may submit 5 piece of work to each folder per week so please send you best works.
Folders - Please submit to correct folders
Reapers -send away all your reaper filled pictures to here~
Digital-all digital works should go here of a dark nature
Traditional-all Traditional works should go here of a dark nature
Photograph-folder is for all photos
Photomanipulations-A folder for all photomanipulations ~
Literature-This folder is for all reaper/dark based poems and literature. Please note only the first chapter/page of a series shall be accepted.
Comic -All of your wonderful comic pages can be sent here! Please not only the first pages will be accepted!
Fanart for anything and everything!-This does not have to be TtR based this is a place for ALL fanarts from anywhere!
Chapters-folder is saved exclusively for TtR chapters
Submitting to the wrong folder will mean your piece is not accepted! So please submit to the correct one
Hello gross people of the world! How are you blood munchkins?
I know you haven't heard from us in awhile. We've been busy, as we know you all have been, too. I can't speak for the other admins, but I've been insanely busy studying and living life in general. Recently it dawned on me, however, that we've left you guys out in the dark street, scared and alone with the monsters. Alas! Fear no more, for I have humbly returned.
What does that mean, you say? Well, we'll have to wait and see about that.
I would like to mention a fun anthology I participated in last year, called Dubnium -- a publication my short story The Gentleman of Paris was featured in. If you'd like to have a peek at the issue, follow the link to Dubnium.
Here is an excerpt from the story:
The drums heralded doom through the city square. A crowd of twenty thousand stood in utter silence as the King approached the scaffold. On the platform awaited the capital’s most notorious killer, the High Executioner dressed in a blood-red cloak. The drums kept their rhythm. Beating, beating, beating. After three decades, he never got used to their droning.
‘Are you feeling ill?’
He turned to face his son. ‘I’m well.’ He didn’t enjoy lying, least of all to Henri. ‘What of the cart, will it be fit for transport?’
‘The wheel isn’t in proper order,’ said Henri, ‘but it will do the job for today.’
It was just what he needed, a tumbrel to tip and spill the corpse of a king. How they’ll laugh at me then, he thought.
‘Have a man watch it during the move,’ he said, turning back to the crowd. ‘We can’t have any mistakes. Not today.'
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