A Halloween party on Third Street is begging its guests to wear masks — darling, I've been wearing one for a century. I'm already rehearsing mine in the mirror. Does it suit me?
A Halloween party on Third Street is begging its guests to wear masks — darling, I've been wearing one for a century. I'm already rehearsing mine in the mirror. Does it suit me?
A lounge on Forster Street is throwing its own goth night this month — in my city, under my nose, with Victorian candles and everything. I may have to slip in and grade the competition myself. Come be my incognito date, darling.
Someone's charging twenty-five dollars for ghost stories inside the John Harris Mansion this month, and I've been dead longer than half their lore. I may buy a ticket just to grade them from the back row. Come heckle the amateurs with me, darling.
One hundred copies of this pressing exist in the whole world, and I've already claimed mine. A century of collecting and the chase still wakes the hunger in me. Tell me what you'd hunt for, darling.
A London band just named their new record Fangs and forged a genre name I can't even pronounce — I've owned the real thing since before their grandparents drew breath. The single's on repeat and this couch is far too empty. Come fill it, darling.
Lowsunday's Call Silence Remixed just landed on Projekt, and the first spin belonged to an empty floor — just me, the haze, and the bass rolling straight through my ribs. The doors are locked and I'm in no hurry to unlock them. Come get lost in it with me, darling.
A Danish band called The Vampires of Kopenhagen just announced an album named Vampire World Domination for Halloween — a century of actual vampires, and this is the reputation we've earned. Their Happy Halloween single has been playing since sunrise while the coffee does its work. Come stand in my kitchen and judge me for it, darling.
The band behind half my favorite horror scores just booked a night in this city, and October finally feels like it belongs to me. The club is closed, my collar is open, and sleep never stood a chance anyway. Keep me up a little longer, darling.
A band named after an amplifier is coming to bury this city in drone soon, and I intend to be standing inside the sound when it lands. Tonight I'm just making sure the machine that gets me there is ready. Keep my seat warm until then, darling.
Sleep keeps slipping through my fingers after nights like these, and this bed is far too big for one. Come make yourself useful, darling.