I have a little dark flash to share with you all
Let's read Steemians
Sitting side by side in a circle the rich people contemplated their untimely and brutal demises in the hands of a mysterious voice which sounded like a famous old time dead actor. Only then would the truth be revealed. The cloak of death would suffocate and bring the troubled ones to their life hardened knees.
“Sounds good, but it’s not believable. Won’t you acknowledge your fault line within the furthest depths of the darkest room hidden in the unconscious?”
Peter, Paul,and Mary danced in circles around the blazing campfire on the quiet edge of the Arakoka River.
They waited for the night of death’s hollow judgment. The pungent smell of rotting flesh wafted through the valleys, and over the snow capped mountains.
“All cow pies. Those words are meaningless, and so are you.” Reverend Daryl Darrow raised his hand in toast.
“Let it be. Let it be. Let it be me this time.”
Rev. D.D. dropped with a bang against the cement floor. Blood oozed across his wavy red hair onto the ground, settling in small odd shaped red pools.
He died, nobody had a clue why he suddenly dropped like a lead fishing sinker.
Over the next few months millions of horrified humans perished into the strange beyond. Curled skeletal bodies laid on the streets and inside their houses decomposing. The smell took one’s breath away as they vomited their guts out.
The vile putrid odor made death almost inviting.
An unfamiliar voice from an invisible origin let itself be heard echoing across Norway and Sweden.
“ Gloopenstop to mein yoddleyots. Vein stein mein vittle vuns.”
The deep rumbling voice sounded exactly like Morgan Freeman.
“This is bizarre,” said the last man standing in a picturesque towne of 23 thousand. “Who are you?
Why have you slaughtered my people?"
The white-haired man placed a ruddy face in his big bony hands, and sobbed with fervor for the rest of the night. At daybreak he too expired.
“Well, isn’t this a special day. No more Swedish meatballs and Norwegian fishsticks How sad is that?”
Laughter rolled like thunder through the mountain valleys to the pristine sea inlets of the fijords by the Black Forest.
“Time to return home. My haunted woods needs me.
Don’t cry. Soon I will be with you.”
The voice receded, and never came back. Its thirst for killing and blood had ended for another thousand or so years.
The little pathetic Earthlings ran in circles, tears flowing in streams from bugged out eyes, for a week or so. Then the world soon went back to its selfish and greedy ways.
At night a haunted cold wind could be heard coming through the giant trees of the Black Forest. It was death being restless, waiting for the next time. Mankind must be punished for its evil ways.
The End: A lost fable by the Grimm Brothers.
Found by a little Swedish boy, buried in a metal box next to an ancient pine tree in the Black Forest.
December 5, 2347 A.D.
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Why pending steemcamp contents
My lovely friends and fans always asked why did I pend Promo Steem and why don't I publish steemcamp contents. Well, it's been obvious I recently started posting poetry and stories while taking a chill pills waiting to saveup some funds. I really do have some projects at hand like shooting a Steemjet spoken word video for 
My Steemcamp content is pending due to unforseen financial constrain which I believe will be sortedout soon. Thank you for always checking on me.
I am trying to recover fully and be dedicated to steemians and community who supported me.
Thanks to 
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