Thursday

Gothic by Carol Hurley (500 Words)

She lay in the stone cold bed, cocooned in a veil of tears, unable to move, rigid with a fear and thrill that combined to send a frisson of sheer love and horror through her whole being.  What was she doing here? Who had brought her to this zone of living terror which she now inhabited?  
She could not remember.  All she knew was the here and now.  Her feelings were all-consuming.  Without knowing their cause, she only knew that she had never felt anything like it in her life.

As she lay there, snatches of memory returned.  She had come here to realise her dream, to be present at the scenes of all her studies.  She wanted to breathe the air that they had breathed.  She wanted to enter their temples and pyramids.  She wanted to gaze at the inscrutable face of the Sphinx of ancient history.  Museums and artefacts were not enough for her.  She wanted the reality of those far off lives to be her reality.

It was not an easy subject but she had so embraced it, absorbing the fascinating facts of that ancient civilisation.  She had become obsessed with all that knowledge.

She felt all the euphoria again as she lay there and indulged herself in it.  

Then another feeling overwhelmed the first.  Terror mingled with longing.  A face and figure appeared which embodied both these feelings, competing with each other.  HE was here again, in her heart, creating the need to be with him.  That yearning would not go away but suddenly fear swept in, flooding, drowning her body and mind.  She felt she had to escape but, by staying, she knew he would come to her.  There was no escape.  

She lifted her head and as she did so she felt something flit past in the semi darkness.  A sinister shape formed in human likeness materialised from the air and stood to the right of her dimmed vision.  Her heartbeat quickened and raced at the sight of the one who had carried her here last night, deep into the heart of darkness.  

Her body tingled as a nervous energy ran through her, making her rise up from what she recognised as a stone sarcophagus.  She knew in an instant that she was in her grave, her soul entombed in a corpse like grip just as her living body was shaped by this ancient sepulchre.  
Her mind registered impending doom; her heart registered imminent ecstasy.  She felt him rather than saw him as he approached her rising figure.  He took her hand and lifted her out.  She felt as light as gossamer.  All fear left her as she looked into his face.  He was majestic, he was regal, he was beautiful.  She worshipped him, she adored him, she gazed into his dead youthful face.  The boy king had come to claim her as his own and to take her to his everlasting home where she would dwell for eternity with him and his ancestors.   

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