The night was dark and vast, the hills cried as the trees scratched free from the stall of day. This is the hour where shadows live and a candle light brings fear of the lurch, no one is safe from the things not seen in the day. Night wraps her cold blanket around the sky to show us what evil look . Sleeping the sleep of the dead so many miss the dance of the stars and the hand of the moon reaching down . How pale it sits not touched by the terror it inflicts on the quickened heart of man. Is it beast that lives, ghost or devil, watching as we look around blinded by our disbelief of things that weak and getting in dark valley of the mind. Maybe blooded fang or gore coated claws is the whicker man of nightmares. Could be red sky and black raven that releases the hounds of hell to run free in the dark. Time holds the black rose and on that day we shall be handed the secret to it all. Until then night will torment and twist what we see and hear. Now let us step back in time. Before Edison’s light, when hell stalked log cabins resting quietly in the woods, and the night made equals of us all.
Among the trees deep in the heart of the living forest stood a cabin. It smelled of the earth and the logs bore images of it’s soul. A man alone to the world stared at an image of a seraph. Eye’s that would make the blue sky anger in comparison. A empty bottle of whiskey hold in hand
“My love …………My love ……..” Then the silence would return as tears welled, but pulled back inside to burn. The form crumbled to rest a heavy head in queue of the next onrush of desolation.
The low light gave the mind freedom to create, and control. The man lifted his head as a distant voice crept over the forest floor to nestle in his ear.
“Why?” Was all the breath could say, “Why?…………..” Then nothing.
He shook his head to clear the mist from his mind, then turned his attention back to the girl. He pulled out a bottle of wine that he saved for their wedding day, sobbing the while. His skin squirmed as the hair on his neck rose.
The night spoke again. “Why…..” Closer then the one before.
He waved his hand and mumbled, “Nothing out there you fool the wind can not speak. The drink and the grief are playing tricks on me. Is that, and that alone.” He turned to the bottle and washed his fear back into his bowels. A corner of the lodging was impenetrable by light even in the day it held it’s void. This night some light seemed to move and creep, and out of the corner of his eye….. a face, appeared catching his gaze then vanished before he could focus. He knew something lurked in the dark, he seen movement. “Who…..Who’s….There?……Speak to me I know you can hear me!”
Again the wind sailed in and pecked his inner ear. “Why?…….”
His face pale, his body stiff, he tried to stand but a weight so heavy forced him back on to his chair.
The pressure shifted to his chest as his breath shortened and his heart raced. Grabbing the wine he took a gulp and mumbled again only louder….. “You leave me alone…. I want nothing from you specter. I have no time for your haunting games.’ A feeling drifted over , a tingle starting at the toes and ending in the shoulder, a walking shadow moved behind him. He could feel ice tickle his spine as he hunted frantically for his tormentor. “Why plague me oh spirt? I have done nothing… I have hurt no one. Surely there must be a soul more deserving then I to apply your haunt?”
“Why?………” The voice was at his side and a hand brushed his face, still alone he sat In fear.
He jumped from his chair gripped the candle and made his way around the small room. “Show your self I grow weary of you . I demand you leave my home.”
He stopped when a book slammed to the floor with thunderous rage, and the ghastly voice spoke.
Panic had him now and the more he moved the faster the shape danced on the walls out of the corner of his eye. He looked back to his chair and saw a fading figure, the eye’s froze his body and soul in place. The image vanished, he closed his lids hoping it was just some drunk haze. He looked about in haste and as he turned to the left the chill of a thousand graves looked straight into his eye’s. He was so close he could smell rot and decay.
His long bangs moved as if a breeze had seeped in from beyond this world. He returned to his seat uncontrollable chills shook his body to a violent frenzy of fright. His spirt now slowly breaking wanting to give in to the ghost and let the spirt take him. Wind circled him as the flame of the candle spit a foot in the air. He dropped it to the ground the fire died. The room was as black as the coldest heart, and something seemed to move around him , he felt morbid pricks of pain all over his body, as the shadow moved taunting his horror. The world out side was still, he could see the moon touching the floor just passed the window. In the light of the eve he saw her……The girl from the picture, his beloved .
He looked with lifted soul as he began to stand. Desperately he scrambled to his feet wanting to greet is distant love. He looked at her with soft eye’s, a glint of sliver from the right. Her face changed black eye’s and bound mouth screamed shaking the foundations of the earth. The glint of sliver came into the light of the moon. A blade came down with contorted brutality, before it made it’s mark he heard his voice push out his last word………