The Jar of Pickled Toes 🌸🦄🌸
{A Pink Necromancer Poem} 🌸🦄🌸

The Jar of Pickled Toes

🌸{A Pink Necromancer Poem} 🦄🌸

I.

On a dusty shelf, in shadowed light,
A glass jar gleamed in the dead of night.
Its contents swirled, a murky brine,
Pickled toes, in rows, aligned,
A gruesome sight, yet strangely bright.

On a shelf where shadows slept,
A jar of toes, preserved and kept.
GhoulSpawn stared, his terror crept,
While BoomFuzzy’s laughter leapt,
At what the jar of horror meant.

II.

The air hung thick with death’s perfume,
A scent that filled the ancient room.
The toes, they floated, pale and cold,
Preserved in secrets, long foretold,
A ghastly relic in twilight’s gloom.

A swirl of brine, a toe afloat,
GhoulSpawn’s heart caught in his throat.
The sight a cruel, chilling note,
But Quaraun, calm, began to quote:
“Toes are key for stealing souls remote.”

III.

Each toe was curled, like frozen stone,
Captured in glass, forever alone.
Once they danced, on living feet,
Now they bobbed in vinegar sweet,
A silent chorus, of flesh and bone.

BoomFuzzy’s grin, a wicked spark,
His laughter echoed in the dark.
“The jar’s no joke, no playful lark!”
But GhoulSpawn froze, his fear left stark,
In Quaraun’s lab, the shadows barked.

IV.

In the lab, where shadows creep,
And strange potions bubble, secrets seep.
The jar sat still, its contents grim,
A witch’s prize, collected on whim,
A silent testament, where nightmares sleep.

Quaraun, quiet, with a frown,
Pushed his glasses, gazed straight down.
The toes were tools of strange renown,
In rituals that crossed the town,
Where souls were caught, not left to drown.

V.

The brine was dark, with secrets old,
A potion made from souls untold.
These toes, once warm, now cold as frost,
Each one marked a soul long lost,
Bound forever in the alchemist’s hold.

“The toes,” Quaraun said, “are more than flesh,
In pickled jars, they’re sealed afresh.
A piece of life, to souls enmesh,
To steal away with magic’s mesh,
And bind them in a spectral thresh.”

VI.

The glass reflected the flickering flame,
A dim reminder of the nameless blame.
For every toe, a story had died,
A life once lived, now coldly tied,
To that murky jar, without a name.

GhoulSpawn trembled, felt the chill,
Of toes preserved against their will.
Their tiny forms, now cold and still,
And yet they held a silent thrill,
To Quaraun’s craft, to BoomFuzzy’s skill.

VII.

The Pink Necromancer, he smiled with eyes aglow,
His fingers traced the jar just so.
For in each toe, he found such power,
Grown from dark roots that twist and flower,
His alchemy born from what he’d know.

BoomFuzzy chuckled, tapped the glass,
His fingers danced, a playful pass.
“The souls they steal, like blades of grass,
They’re plucked and pulled, no soul’s trespass,
When toes are tools that death can amass.”

VIII.

He stirred his pot with wicked glee,
As pickled toes bobbed silently.
They danced within their prisoned glass,
A reminder of the spells that pass,
From Human flesh to mystery.

The jar stood firm, a grisly sight,
In Quaraun’s lab, beneath the light.
Its purpose grim, yet oh so right,
To steal away the souls at night,
While BoomFuzzy laughed in morbid delight.

IX.

The room was thick with whispered breath,
A place where life meets quiet death.
And on the shelf, the jar stood proud,
Amidst the herbs and bones enshroud,
A symbol of the wizard’s depth.

GhoulSpawn shuddered, turned away,
But Quaraun’s voice would softly say:
“Pickled toes are here to stay,
In binding spells that lead astray,
The souls we take, without delay.”

X.

The toes, they watched with lifeless gaze,
Frozen in their briny haze.
No longer bound to earth or time,
They drifted slow, in eerie rhyme,
A ghastly relic from bygone days.

BoomFuzzy twirled a candy cane,
Grinning wide, devoid of shame.
The toes to him, a silly game,
But GhoulSpawn feared the darkened frame,
Of all the souls the jar would claim.

XI.

For those who dare to touch the glass,
Would feel the weight of ages pass.
A finger brush, and spirits wake,
As whispers in the shadows quake,
A warning from the dead amassed.

Quaraun reached, with steady hand,
The jar of toes, a tool so grand.
With calm precision, he would stand,
Explaining how the souls were planned,
To slip from life, into his land.

XII.

In the dead of night, when winds do blow,
And moonlight casts its silver glow,
The toes would shift, the jar would hum,
A macabre song, a muffled drum,
Of all the secrets buried below.

“The toes,” he whispered, “are the key,
To bind the soul, to set it free.
In brine they sit, in death’s decree,
To serve my craft, my sorcery,
And claim the souls eternally.”

XIII.

But still it sits, a trophy grim,
A silent watch on future whim.
The jar of toes, forever sealed,
A past undone, a fate revealed,
In pickled flesh, where light grows dim.

The jar, in gruesome silence, stood,
In Quaraun’s lab, as cold as wood.
While BoomFuzzy laughed, as madmen should,
GhoulSpawn feared, but understood,
The power in the pickled toes was good.

The Pink Necromancer, Moon Elf silk weaver & merchant: Quaraun on Noodle Beach. His master chef Phooka turned Lich husband: BoomFuzzy with his 1968 VW Bus Beach Noodle Food Truck. And their on again/off again mad scientist Sheep Demon lover: GhoulSpawn with his 1974 AMC Gremlin time machine. Time Travel setting swings back and forth between 40th century Maine after a comet hit the moon decimating the planet, and the 1970s, Maine. Quaraun in the main character, he and BoomFuzzy are a married gay couple. GhoulSpawn is their shared live-in lover. Art by Wendy Christine Allen.

BoomFuzzy

Quaraun

Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post

The Pink Necromancer: The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane aka The Twighlight Manor Series

🌸🦄🌸 Furry Yaoi Fiction about Elves and Faeries and Satyrs and Demons and Unicorns and Technomancer Wizards and Liches living in a Lighthouse and surviving as Travelling Merchants and Food Truck Chefs in Cyberpunk Dystopian 40th Century Maine, and Zombie Apocalypse and Time Travel but it’s Slice of Life Vignettes of Mundane Daily Lives of The UnSeelie Court’s Royal Family trying to survive after a comet hit the moon and turned the Earth into a CyberPunk Ice-Age. 🌸🦄🌸

• eBook Editions from this series can be found on: GumRoad

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