Skip to main content

Short Story S:1 P:9 - Eternal Youth - Part One

She had come here for many reasons, but her final choice had been because she knew no one else would. The dark woods and glittering hungry eyes that trailed you on the narrow dirt road kept many from even daring to cross into this dense pocket of forest. Travelers whispered tales about the beasts that thrived here and the foolish who had dared to enter yet never return. She cared not. Indeed, it was theses foul creatures themselves in which she sought solace in. They would not harm her. No, they all had their own master they bowed down to, the one she sought most of all amongst them. And she alone was her only concern.
Her fair mare of cream and gold, so much like herself, followed willingly behind her, its gentle hooves leaving not even a dusty trail in their wake. It was as if the gentle summer breeze blowing through the arched trees and moonlit grass was erasing any trace of their journey into the consuming Forbidden Kingdom. Crickets passed in varying harmonies until a howl rose up in the distance as they finally saw lights starting to peer back at them from the darkness ahead. It was soon followed by another, and a third after that, before they blended into pitched laughter like a pack of hyenas. The hairs on her arms, free of her light blue cloak, stood at the cackling that echoed in greeting as the lights grew more firm in sight, but neither she nor her beastly companion wavered.
In no time the glowing orbs formed into licking flames nestled in lanterns perched along a stone wall that surrounded a large gleaming castle. No guards stood sentry in front of the iron gates and no figures moved within the towers cornered into the fortress. There was likely no need for them, she assumed, as no one came this far unwilling. Nonetheless, she halted by the gates, unsure what to do next, and took in their surroundings. No flags flew around them in mark of the kingdom’s ruler. Shadows raced across misty grounds that looked like no animals she had ever seen before. The faint cackling that had been tailing them pitched and echoed every now and then, reminding her they were watching, while others seemed to grunt and groan from unseen swells of land. She shifted as the air seemed to grow heavier around them, pressing gentle electrical kisses upon their skin, yet neither felt threatened. Or perhaps they were just immune. Either way, she wanted to move forward into the castle grounds and complete her journey, if only she knew how.
Perhaps sensing her desires, the iron gates before her suddenly groaned and slowly parted themselves, clicks of rivets twisting under strain they seemed disuse to, beckoning her in behind the faceless wall. There was only a slight hesitation as she drew in a deep breath and her heart began a more rapid staccato beat, before pulling her mare with her into the well lit courtyard. She never looked back to the swinging gates that closed and locked themselves behind her.
In fact, she looked nowhere but straight ahead to the massive castle doors that also stood bare of attention. As she approached, she glanced back once to her faithful friend and then let the reigns slip between her fingers gently, finally freeing her companion from her side. The tender spirited horse simply turned and lead itself to an open stall of grains and fruit across the cobblestone. Hay packed its shadowed depths and the creature found itself content.
Alone now, she stood before the grand wooden doors, feeling the weight of their threshold in her bones. She knew, if she turned back now, she could leave and remain in defiance of the want that pulled at her. But she would never be free. The burn in her veins would continue to ache until it drove her mad. No, there was no other choice. She must move forward.
When heart beats passed and the doors did not move of their own accord, she placed her palms against their smooth surface and pushed. They cried from the weight of her body but parted nonetheless into a bare foyer. She slipped into the chandelier lit room before the doors own weight drifted them back close and the world fell into silence.
She listened carefully, senses charged by the quiet air around her, for another presence. Spiraling staircases stood against the walls on either side of the room, their black marble railing bouncing the light above like fluttering flames, but nothing else moved. A faint scent drifted across her nose from the stairwells that swirled out of sight, hints of leather, silk and lavender caressing her like a beckoning lover. So she followed it; her tan riding boots echoing softly with each footfall as she ascended further into the unknown.
A single corridor greeted her at the top, doors on every side as well as the other staircase landing, but in between them on the left wall rested an opening that lead deeper into the recesses of the castle. She turned towards it and was met with what seemed like endless pools of rippling water bouncing off of white marble like insects skimming the surface of a lake. They paralleled one another, their perfect circular depths set into the floor and churning with an unknown currant. She stepped down into the room that seemed to extend the entire length of the stone kingdom, until she spotted a lone dias and throne in the middle of it all.
“You’ve come a long way,” greeted a husky voice from out of nowhere, its timber echoing around her, the first she’s heard in hours. “I must admit, your lack of trepidation surprises me.”
She paused in her steps, her shadow cast against the inky cerulean depths surrounding them.
“Is there a reason I should find fear?” she finally replied in turn with a soft even tone. The sound of the pools of water seemed to not reverberate like their voices off of the stone and yet their movements still trickled loudly across her ears like they were whispering only to her.
A throaty chuckle was her reply and soon a lone figure stood and turned towards her, its curves pulling free of their own unnatural shadows that bathed the distance between them to reveal dark eyes and caramel skin framed by long curling tendrils of jet black hair; all barely concealed under a matching dark cloak. The woman approached with a grace of regal power and she swore the tide pools ebbed and flowed in her direction, like watery fingers of need, as she strode closer, leaving just a few feet of space between them.
Those eyes, so Predatory in their intelligence, took her in with slow and deliberate pleasure. They swept up her boots, narrowed in on the curves of her thighs and hips encased in leather riding pants, raised slightly to her flat stomach and practically caressed the swell of her breasts covered by her thin white tunic, before reaching her face with barely concealed want. This creature was pulled by her presence and she was happy to be under her gaze.
Eventually the other woman broke the silent stare between as she slowly began to circle around her. “There have been countless who have come through my doors over the years, but few like you. What has drawn you to my kingdom, child?”
“I am no child,” she replied back sharply, her shoulders tensing at the notion and she turned her body slightly to track the woman’s path around her.
The beauty in turn raised a surprised brow in response, her eyes sweeping up and down her frame again in curiosity. “Oh?”
“I may retain some excess of my youth but I am of age to be sold to the highest bidder on a silver platter,” she continued, her jaw tightening and her hazel eyes hardening at the memories skirting the surface of her mind. “And if that decision can be made for me, then I can make decisions of my own accord as well.”
Face to face again, the dark woman reached out and gently clasped her warm fingers around her jaw, forcing their eyes to meet. She watched as Honeysuckle colors sparked in amber depths with an energy that shivered across her skin before the woman simply replied, “Indeed.”

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Snippet: Golden Children of the Night

     Since so many people have been following my twitter posts of me writing , here is a snippet unedited of what I've done so far. Enjoy! ...They watched as another bolt of lightening struck the ground, forcing them to bend into their stances to resist falling to their knees, and formed into a tall gleaming female figure. The armored woman’s eyes flickered with golden irises as she took each of them in before addressing them. “You speak as if you have earned a place upon Olympia, Dead King,” she said, her lyrical voice commanding between them as her eyes bore into Belloros. “You are old, Athena, and the Romans will see to it that nothing of Ancient Greece shall remain standing,” he replied defiantly, “including you.” Those wise eyes turning her way, she met them unflinching but not without respect. She felt measured, as she had the last time she stood before the Gods of Olympus, and like before she kept her words to herself. “And you seek to bet...

Short Story S:5 P 1 - "Unseen Hands"

You want noise when something happens. A blaring warning sign. A whisper of foreboding. A chill of uncertainty. You want another person nearby. A hand to hold onto. A rush of moving bodies to motivate you to safety. A sense of unity. A pack survival mentality.   You want a tool. A device to give you advantage. Hope for success. A net for security, should you have to risk it all. A life line. What you don’t want. What you fear the most. Is the unpredictability of nothingness. Because that is where real terror begins. Humanity is so certain our greatest enemies will meet us on the battlefields in manners we understand, that we never stop to consider.... That they don’t think the way we do. There will be no siren. No amount of individuals beside you to make a difference. No technology to aid you. All there will be is a moment--a single flickering second of discord--and then.... oblivion. You see, our greatest enemies can perceive our mortal coil....

Short Story S: 5 P 2 - "The Whistler"

     It's trailing after me.      Wherever it's coming from.      That stupid eerie whistling noise.      It's kind of like an old song...but not?      Stupid old miner's house. Stupid ghost stories. Stupid cute boys...      I should have known better than to take on the dare just to impress Josh. No matter how handsome the basketball player is, he isn't worth dying in a goddamn haunted shit hole for. I should have shrugged them off at the beach party. Should have watched how much I was drinking. Shouldn't have kissed those stupid soft lips.      Sigh.      Too late now.      "Where is that coming from?!" I can't make out shit beyond shapes in this fucking place, and it's almost like someone is literally right behind me whistling that tune in some bad horror movie trope. Up the creaking steps. Down the worn dusty hallway. Past the numerous open ...