Dark Visions

[Mark]

In this thread I will be chronicling my Halloween layout. I have been working for weeks now getting ready for Halloween and I think that the kids will enjoy what I have in store for them this year.

The first pics you see here will be the ones from my workshop as I prepare the layout for halloween. It is my intent to set up a Victorian style graveyard in front of the house with a crypt as a centerpiece. Breaking out of that crypt and from the bowls of hell will be a ghoul who looks strangely like the crypt keeper.

So here's a few pics of what I have been working on.

This first guy is my corpse in progress. He is made of chicken wire latex, foam injection and theatrical blood. I have been building up the skin over bone for the last few weeks.


Here is another picture showing the progress in developing the corpse.


Here is a stage foot that I augmented with latex rubber and theatrical blood to give it a more natural look.


Here is a corpse head I have also been working on. I started out with a styrofoam skull and began build up layers of skin using latex rubber and cottonballs.


This hairy fellow will find his way into our front garden on the night of Halloween. My Wife Karen is terrified of Werewolves, but it was her suggestion that we add this guy to the entourage. He started out as a halloween mask, but I used a styrofoam head and again employed latex rubber and eyeballs I bought at a halloween store.


This little lady is Elizabeth. Countess Elizabeth Bathory was known as one of the worlds first female serial killers. She liked to bathe in the blood of virgins. I prefer to think of her as a vampiress who will float in front of the tombstone I constructed for her.


I have much more including a standing corpse who is based around one of the characters in my novel. As I get pictures I will post them in this thread and once the stage is set I will photograph and video everything.

Cheers
M

[Chris]

Those are fantastic, Mark!

[Locutus]

The corpse and other gore looks great.

Some kid is gonna shit themselves on your front yard.




Be sure to have a portable defibrillator on standby for the older crowd. :shifty:

[Brat]

That's awesome!

What's your address again? I'm bringing my kids.
It would be worth the drive on Halloween. LOL

[Sal]

Faaaaantastic Mark! Very creative!!

[Mark]

So I took a couple more shots as I prep my layout for the cemetary and figure on how the light will work.

Here's is the skinwalker, a creature from my novel (which is up to chapter 8, by the way:whistle:)



The centerpiece of the cemetary will be a crypt that is a portal to the bowels of hell. (Aren't all crypts portals to hell anyhow?)


Here we have one of many tombstones I have made from syrofoam using my router and imagination. I had considered putting a tombstone up for the Liberal Party of Canada, but my wife stepped in and said it was bad enough I was going to damage the kids psychologically, no need to think they would spend eternity with Harper.)



Next is the grave of Edgar Allan Poe and perched above the mad genius' grave is none other than The raven. Thus quoth him my friends.


More to follow.................

[Sal]

Fabulous Poem

The Raven
[First published in 1845]

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!