Safe At Home.


Find out why only in “Safe At Home” – The latest installment of Al Cook’s “Necropolis”.



Nights In White Satin.

I’ve always had crazy, surreal & disturbing dreams.
My dreams are big glossy cinematic prints and images.

The latest dream I had began…

…with a big blue sky.

I was lying in the middle of the road on Riverbank Drive which is a small road just around the corner from the house I grew up in on Forest Drive, Mossend.

I’m lying in the road in my dressing gown waiting for a car to come.
I don’t know what to think of that but suddenly it stops mattering because music,
LOUD music started to boom from the sky.

The Moody Blues.
Nights In White Satin“.

It was as if God had turned on his stereo.

Listening to “Nights In White Satin” I got up off the road and slowly wandered around onto Forest Drive.
There was a big fire.
The house next to mine was up in flames.
Slow motion flames.

The fire brigade were tackling it and a crowd had gathered.
All in slow motion and still in my dressing gown, I pushed my way to the front of the crowd.

A wave of shock hit me when I saw my Mum holding a wee boy’s hand.
– Me.

The dressing gowned version of me then fell backwards and suddenly,
Everything rewound itself and there I was back lying in the middle of the road.

A blue car came around the corner and “Nights In White Satin” suddenly stopped playing and I woke up.

Has the term “Donniedarkoesque” been coined yet?
If not, I’m calling it.

What’s Wrong With This Picture?

What’s wrong with this picture?

That’s right, HE’S DEAD!

Passed Away.
Bought the farm.
Catch my drift?

In my continuing efforts to explore the downright creepy and strange side of the internet, I chanced upon Victorian Mourning Photography.
Now, I don’t wish to offend you or give you nightmares so you should probably stop looking right now if you think that something like that might be likely to happen.

Still here?

Okay then, as I was saying,

Victorian mourning photography involves the posing and positioning of expired people with the use of stands and clamps to make them appear alive. Clamps and rods would keep the limbs where they’re supposed to be and the eyelids open but sometimes, sometimes the pupils of the eyes were even painted on over closed lids!
– Like the little girl in this photograph:

If you look closely at this next photo you will notice a base at this girls feet.
– A base to keep her upright because you betcha!
She’s dead.

Have you ever heard of this?
Victorian Mourning Photography?
It’s fucking WELL CREEPY!
I’m creeped out even writing this but it is interesting me.
All sorts of cogs are spinning in my head right now!

– Which is a lot more than can be said for this Father and Son…

Know why?
– Correct my friend! Because they’re both dead!

I can almost understand people wanting a photograph of a dear loved one but that Father and Son are very obviously dead.
Can anyone shed some light on post-mortem photography?

And by ‘anyone’ I mean anyone with the exception of this guy:

– Because he’s dead.

…And Then I Woke Up Horrified.

The one thing about having nightmares is that you’re generally up very early in the morning.
I suppose that’s a good thing.

It’s 5.36 am.
Wanna hear something scary?

…Throughout the year,
I’ve had a re-occurring dream where I’m a worker at a gallows.
My dreams are usually big glossy cinematic epics and I’ve been having this same dream for a long time now.

My job is to stack newly dead bodies onto a cart for uplift.
It’s mostly the same dream every time but I get variations.

My job is to take hanged people down and load them onto my cart.
That’s the basis of the dream and I’m always aware of the weight and how hard I have to work.

I’m stacking heads onto my cart and getting frustrated because they keep rolling off.
Those dreams usually end with me chasing the rolling heads and struggling to pick them all up.
For every one I get back onto the cart,
Another two roll off and bounce off uneven cobbles in the street.

I suppose that’s quite easy to analyse as a stress dream.
I don’t think it’s anything more than that but this morning I only got 3 hours of sleep and had the same dream again with twists:

Just like every time before…

I’m about to start work and I’m doing my usual:
Checking the wheel’s on my cart; making sure they’re okay.
The cart is made of thick, scored wood and I’m waiting to put the dead folk onto it so I can wheel them away.

I’m thinking about how heavy severed heads are and how I could do with some help one of these days.

I must have missed something because my cart starts to tip and in the panic,
I drop one of the heads I’m carrying.

So I stick my foot in its path to stop it and doing that makes me drop another head.
To myself I think: “I could do with someone helping me with this”.
I always think that.

I pick up one of the heads and its eyes open.
The face is an off yellow colour and just before it’s eyes melt, it makes gurgling noises and mouths the word “You”.

And then I woke up horrified.

Pure Evil.

How’s this for evil…

…Or how about a little ZOLTAR!

What’s the matter?
Not evil enough for ya!?

Well what about THIS MANIAC THEN!:

All very scary and evil I’m sure you’ll agree.
But I’m here today to tell you about a new maniac in town.

More Disturbing!
More Shocking!


Aye that’s right.

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