T E r r o r
B I F F
b A M
P O P !
P R E S E N T S
BIFF BAM No. 21
10 ¢
T h i s
i s s u e :
BO O
C e l l a r
d o o r ! ! ! !
written by Andy Burns Illustrated by JP Fallavollita
It should come as no surprise When I looked into her eyes My heart would skip two beats That auburn hair, That skin so fair Our destiny but to meet A quick and small wedding Held while sun was slowly setting The future clear but clouded We packed clothes into cases Bid adieu to relations We settled where roots were not grounded
A small town gave us welcome A home rented for small ransom Two bedrooms, few windows, little more A home built for two, maybe three Husband and wife, perhaps baby And at the end of a hall, cellar door
Made of wood from years past Stuck in the frame and held fast 'Don't expect to pry it', we're told 'Many try, many fail, 'It's why the house ain't for sale' 'Who'd buy a house with a stuck cellar door?'
So for months our life went on And we cemented our bond A quiet life away from the wild Until a year after arrival My wife came home with a smile 'Get ready, we're going to have a child.'
Without wasting time, we prepared But within weeks I did despair For my dreams had become strange My wife would sleep so soundly While strangeness did surround me Sounds of moaning just out of range
For weeks the dreams carried on Screams and terror from beyond I’'d wake with sheets so damp I kept the horrors to myself Suspicion? My wife never felt Of terrors in dreams I’'d met
Before long I determined The evil, this unseen vermin Lived with us behind our walls Trapped by unseen bondage Unable to make passage From the cellar door, inhuman calls
I surmised that this horror Hoped to cross our earthly border To take my wife and unborn child Upon this realization I swore to conquer without hesitation Before long my mind went wild While my wife was out for hours I tore the cellar door with hammers And just barely made a dent It seemed only to shake slightly I heard screams behind it nightly Hellish thoughts my dreams were sent
As the weeks turned into months My world soon became cut off My wife questioned my sanity Though I tried to calm her fears Most nights would end in tears As the walls fell around reality
Until the day had finally come My wife gave birth to a son My body there but mind drifting They came home and while they settled I grabbed the hammer and chiseled Still the cellar door was unrelenting
After hours of my banging My wife came downstairs carrying Our son and began berating 'there's nothing behind the door, It's old wood and nothing more' And placed her hand on the cellar door
The walls began shaking A white light from behind the cellar door That opened upon her touch
My eyes were slightly blinded My bowels were blindsided As my wife screamed something horrid The light was overwhelming My thoughts uncomprehending As tentacles lurched toward them
I stared in awe of this reality Of tentacles engulfing family And pulling them towards the light I couldn't move, my body taut My wife and newborn son caught Lives gripped by horrors tight
I heard waves of hideous screams Human and inhuman so it seemed Goodness in this world, no more And in mere moments they were gone My wife and our newborn son With the evil behind our cellar door
So I sit in padded cell My family surely dragged to hell My word not worth much anymore Sometimes when I go to sleep In my dreams I hear them weep Trapped for eternity beyond the cellar door
For H.P. Lovecraft, because it is what it is.