What goes on behind closed doors

Let me tell a story, this tale is strange but true.

Of a place they call the Citadel, and its even stranger crew

Its location is a secret, and one I cannot tell,

But rest assured it's on the road somewhere this side of hell.

The owner is a Vampire, a Princely one at that,

Who stalks the local villages, in robes and neat cravat.

But events of which I tell you, don't happen here you know,

There are far more creepy goings on, in the levels down below.

This is where the Dr. lives, and here he must remain,

To carry out experiments which drive his “guests” insane.

No one knows why this is so, this morbid satisfaction,

In taking heads and with fine threads, sowing them to a bat in traction.

Now you may think that what I say is a little far departed.

But hear me true I tell to you, my story is just started.

Now Mirage is a comely wench, and gives the Doc assistance,

She takes the “guests” and finds in them the path of least resistance.

She's on her second body, the first one was a pain,

For it was made of metal, and rusted in the rain.

So now she's really happy, and fast learning the trade,

She'll often ask you, to come see, the friends she has just “made”.

Moving on real quickly, to Angel Grace I'm bound,

Who is an ethereal being, and never can be found.

She wanders through the hallways, strange visitors she will find,

And slipping from the ether, make sleep and quickly bind.

Then rush off to the Doctor, and tells him to make haste,

For she's left a tasty package, that mustn't go to waste.

Demonosia is the next one, a shifter I am told,

And with re-generation, is worth her weight in gold.

She tries out all procedures; the Doctor has in store,

And when the blood and gores cleaned up, she'll turn and ask for more

Her story is a sad one, of clipped wings and despair,

Until she met the Doctor, who made a brand new pair.

So now she's flies around the grounds, till vermin are departed,

And listens for the Doctors call, which is where it all had started.

Finally, there is Dana, a visitor to this abode,

Who leads a band of fighters, at a place just up the road.

She wandered in one evening, just to see the place,

Now she's here much longer, a victim of Angel Grace.

And now my story has been told, no stranger tale to tell,

Of the strange folk and their lifestyles, at the place called Citad`hell

The Bard (a.k.a. Elwyn Jones)

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