Ghostly Brides | Vault Of Evil: Brit Horror Pulp Plus!

𝘗rincess 𝘵uvstarr
Slime Beast

I cried out, and I cried at last ‘‘ Who are you? ”’ I heard him say ‘‘ I was a carpenter’”’...

Posts: 2,214

Ghostly Brides Oct 24, 2021 10:58:21 GMT

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Post by 𝘗rincess 𝘵uvstarr on Oct 24, 2021 10:58:21 GMT

This can be men who married ghosts, brides possessed by spirits of other people, brides who are killed by the husband and return from the dead for revenge. I'm sure you get the general idea and have lots of stories you can share.

And if e'er you should come down to the village or the town, With the cold rain for your garland, and the wind for your renown, You will stand upon the thresholds with a face of dumb desire, Nor be known by any fire. What would you see in your proud land, Petrarch, If you came back again to Italy, And in the Garden of the Medici Could listen to the nightingale or lark And dream of Laura in the fragrent dark?

Middoth
Slime Beast

Posts: 370

Ghostly Brides Oct 24, 2021 11:49:34 GMT

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Post by Middoth on Oct 24, 2021 11:49:34 GMT

Lenore by Gottfried August Bürger (A spectral romance)

genius.com/Gottfried-august-burger-lenore-annotated

The Bride of Corinth by Goethe (From my grave to wander)

poets.org/poem/bride-corinth-my-grave-wander

Wild Flowers by Karel Jaromír Erben

library.lol/fiction/2A2106E2822AF8BE91FA4D0E1C9A034F

How quickly you changed your mind! You arrived to find a gold Dunsanian city of arches and domes and fantastic spires... or so you told us. Yet when you fled two years later you could see only “alien hordes.”[br] T. E. D. Klein

𝘗rincess 𝘵uvstarr
Slime Beast

I cried out, and I cried at last ‘‘ Who are you? ”’ I heard him say ‘‘ I was a carpenter’”’...

Posts: 2,214

Ghostly Brides Oct 24, 2021 12:18:49 GMT

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Post by 𝘗rincess 𝘵uvstarr on Oct 24, 2021 12:18:49 GMT

That's a nice painting.

And if e'er you should come down to the village or the town, With the cold rain for your garland, and the wind for your renown, You will stand upon the thresholds with a face of dumb desire, Nor be known by any fire. What would you see in your proud land, Petrarch, If you came back again to Italy, And in the Garden of the Medici Could listen to the nightingale or lark And dream of Laura in the fragrent dark?