Dust Devils dance a macabre dervish
Tumbleweed twists in torment
Ghosts of the Disappeared stalk the streets of Death
Screams of silence fill the graveyard of the Abandoned
Gates creak open with unearthly screams
Come down to the Graveyard
Coffins spill their bone chilling secrets
~ The Abandoned and the Disappeared ~
Tell me what happened to these Ghost Towns…
Twist a tale of terror,
Send shivers of horror down my spine with a story,
Flay the flesh from my skin as you open my veins and bleed me out with our poetry…
Rules
Submit your daily entry (1 per person per day) in the comments.
Submit either a Flash Fiction Piece/Prose
or
Short Story
or
Poetry
Prizes
There can be only 1 ultimate winner for this contest.
You will win
1 * Ebook – Death by Drivein (CoffinHop Anthology)
1 * Mystery Trick or Treat
Contest runs 24th – 31st October 2013
Winner to be announced – 5th November 2013
xxxxx
The Ghost Island
Gunkanjima, Japan (translated “Battleship” Island)
Once one of the most populated places in the world, at 1.4 people per square metre, it is now completely deserted. Entry is forbidden. This island’s secrets have been trapped in the crumbling walls of eery buildings. Lying off the Western coast of Japan, this island is truly sealed off from the world as it lies behind forbidding, impenetrable concrete sea walls.
In 1810 coal was discovered on the island leading to mines being built and a bustling densely populated metropolis rose from the waves.
In the 70s as the world became more reliant on petroleum to fuel it, there was no need for coal mines. In 1974 with the mines shut and thousands left jobless, the people were forced to leave. Within days the Battleship Island was completely deserted and Gunkanjima became known as Ghost Island.
The eery feature about this abandonment is that the Island’s inhabitants literally left everything they had. They took nothing. Everything remains frozen in this Island of Ghosts & Forbidden secrets. Everything has been left waiting for their owners to return and reclaim them.
From 1974 until 2009, everyone was forbidden entry to this place. Now only carefully supervised tours are allowed onto some parts of the island. But areas known as the “Stairway to Hell” and “Block 65” are still forbidden from any access.
An island that was bustling with energy. Now a forbidden fortress hidden behind giant concrete sea walls. Trapped in time. Trapped in a concrete wall of secrets. Forbidden. Condemned. Waiting…
Tell me what happened to this ghost island…
x
Dig up those coffin-hopping boots,
dance down to the graveyard for more
bone-chilling CoffinHop tricks & treats.
|
10.
|
|
|
13.
|
|
|
16.
|
|
|
18.
|
|
|
21.
|
22.
|
|
24.
|
|
|
26.
|
|
|
27.
|
|
|
31.
|
|
|
34.
|
|
|
35.
|
|
|
37.
|
|
|
40.
|
|
|
42.
|
|
|
45.
|
|
|
59.
|
|
x
Kim Koning 
T3 – a dream to so many. Once a thriving community, now nothing but skeletal bones. Within these bones lie the remains of renewed life… a new beginning for many who hoped to avoid the crush of everyday drudgery; fighting for a handle or a seat, shoving their way into a cramped and overcrowded conveyance only to be jostled free at the next stop – if it stopped. The future of tomorrow, now! But alas, all that is created sees ruin one day. An experiment gone awry intended to improve civilization, or the demented vision of those who would herd the cattle in a tighter pen?
What a great post about ‘the Ghost Island!’ Having a hectic Friday (and a far crazier weekend looms), but I’ll try to revisit this if I can 🙂
I took a deep breath and nodded my head to myself as I rounded the turn into the neighborhood just before the festively-decorated elementary school. I’d done the right thing, signing the divorce papers at my attorney’s office today. The road of self-discovery to reach that point might have been longer than my friends thought safe for Lizbeth and me, but I’d eventually come to the same conclusions about my relationship with Ford.
Nearing the babysitter’s street, I again puzzled at having not received any calls regarding my daughter’s temper tantrums and use of those unfortunate words she’d picked up from listening to Ford talk to his so-called friends. Maybe she was playing the young lady to get off restriction early and be able to go trick-or-treating with Jean and Miranda.
Glancing down at my cell – Did Lizbeth have to think that an orange cover was meaningful to the upcoming holiday? – I grimaced. I’d let the battery die again. Flipping on the radio to make sure Lizbeth’s favorite station would be on hand if she actually had behaved today for Mrs. Lawsen, I heard the jarring pulse of the Amber Alert. Sighing, I leaned to switch the sound off.
The flashing lights at Mrs. Lawsen’s would be a sight I would never forget. She said that she was so, so sorry, but that she couldn’t stop him from taking my daughter. collapsing to my knees and relishing the mud soaking through my clothes, I cursed my luck, my choices, and my good intentions, and, most especially, I cursed a certain Ford Poole, who I was going to see went straight to hell. After all, Halloween is the celebration of the Day of the Dead, and I wanted to dance on his grave.
Ghost Island
Still air, blighted breath
they fall, their buildings collapse
with abundant death
An experiment gone wrong radicated the entire island population and no one lived to tell the tale. I’m sure of it.