Halloween's Portentous Fate

It was the darkest night of the year, and the light was eclipsed but the haunting moon was so near. Lagging hope faded, and the jading stillness increased my fear. Twas a warm, muggy night with a cool, misty fog drear. A vixen wind against my jaundiced awning did sheer. All at once, ghostly emanations and visions of black ravens became so stark so clear. From a nearby church cemetery; gasping, satin-sheathed mummies from their soiled compartments began to rear. Wispy, veiled goblins in the distant pines started to appear. The nearby stream gurgled spewing, nauseous vapors that filtered across my warping pier. Gargantuan gargoyles around my crenelated windows did swerve and veer. White-tipped bats with ebony capes around my porch light did flitter and fleer. Cringing 'neath my pleated, satin curtians, I heard a knock so *****. Bounding from my cloistered lair, all my remaining wits did forswear. Flinging open the door, I was confronted by a craggly-clad seer. In a hurried, modulated rant, he with warnings of pending doom filled each, perched ear. He, then, paused and glared at me with a bleary-eyed leer. Slamming the door, I began to ponder his doleful, portentous lear, then staggering to my pantry, I grappled for a bottle of cheer. Unbeknownst to me, a pilfering vampire had spliced a bloody concoction in my satiating beer. Suddenly, the velvet-laced furniture was shrouded with a crimson verneer. Stumbling along a meandering course to the basement, I located a wooden box that resembled a bier. Accepting my perilous fate, climbed into my designated tomb, and into my coroded heart plunged a jagged spear.