"The Thing"

by James Cayetano

A lifeless and empty metal corridor,

Scratches and crimson stain the walls and the floor.

Thunderous thuds ring out in the distance,

Make haste now, soon there will be no chance at resistance.


A hellish and freakish beast of fleshy steel, 

An amalgamation of nightmares that shouldn’t be real.

It twitches and growls, it's very being described as biomechanical,

A distorted face, with tubes made of bone connected and fused to the clavicle.


Its echoing pleas are twisted into sounds of terror,

Don’t reveal yourself, don’t give yourself a chance to spare her.

A blood-curdling screech penetrates your ears,

An unknown, obscure, and unfortunate end is in all of our fears.