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Tuesday, October 4, 2022

The Man In Black and The Woman Who Was Not There (gothic prose)

 






The Man In Black And The Woman

Who Was Not There



He stood there melting into the shadows

Clothed in black leather

With a long black coat shielding him against the cold

Cold he did not feel.


His icy breath meeting the chill of the air

Made shapes and shadows that hung there,

Danced there until he exhaled again

But he barely noticed.


He had eyes only for the woman, Zayanna

She of the long crow black hair

And deep and darkened eyes like bottomless pools

Daring all to fall into them.


He had spotted her exiting the opera house

That frosty winter's night

Hurrying to her carriage, then stopping to look around

As though she sensed his eyes on her.


For a moment, he thought she saw him

Backing into the darkness like a child, afraid

But he was not afraid, he only wanted her to see him

At a time of his choosing.


Looking behind her once more in puzzlement

She ducked into the black carriage

Her dark eyes and creamy skin hidden from him once more

As she was carried off into the night, her perfume trailing on the wind.


Waiting until all the opera goers had departed,

Jionn slipped from his hiding spot and walked in the carriage ruts

Cut into the snow and followed her scent to the shut gates

Of a vast and forbidding castle with dark forests looming behind it.


He quickly scaled the stone walls

And glided across the manicured lawns like an eagle,

Making no sound though his long dead heart pounded like a drum

In his broad and all too human chest.


He watched as candles lit her way upstairs

Carried by servants who bid her goodnight

And made their way back downstairs 

To leave her alone in her chambers now alive with candlelight.

Standing outside on the balcony now,

He watched her remove her exquisite gown and jewelry,

Remove the pins and combs from her hair

Letting it fall down her back in shining waves.


How he longed to run his hands through that hair!

Lift it to his nostrils and smell the perfume of it,

Bury his face in it and relive memories from long ago

When love still touched him like oases in the desert.


But he dared not tonight

He wanted her to want him, come to him 

Of her own free will, not a frightened captive

Who denied him the love he sought out of terror.


He would wait. And observe. 

And come to know her in his time 

For time was his in abundance as ages passed

And passed in a merciless and unbearable loneliness.


The man in black made the first of his return visits

On a night that rang with thunder

And gleamed with lightning bolts

A night wholly alive with rain and chill and unfulfilled desire.


He stood on her balcony watching through a tiny slit of curtain

A lone candelabra stood on a table by her bed

As she reclined and read from a heavy book of poetry

Stopping on occasion to wipe away a tear.


How he wanted to catch her tears and taste them upon his fingers!

Kiss them from her cheeks and see her smile for joy 

He longed to know why she wept and why she spent so much time alone

Rarely dancing with her glittering friends in the ballrooms of the rich.


She was, like him, a solitary creature

Preferring the books of a well stocked library

And dreaming of things that few might understand

Though on the rare night, they each made their way 

Out into the streets of the city.


She had many admirers and would-be beaus,

Princes of royalty and bearers of titles

But they seemed to be of no interest to her

For she soon tired of them and kept searching 

For what he knew not.


There was that evening when they had almost met

That night at the symphony and later at the ball

Given by Lord Something-or-Other where he had kept his distance

Staying in the shadows of the over-crowded room and watching.


She melted the ice around his heart that night!

Glowing in an ivory colored gown and slippers to match

Her hair piled high on her head with curls cascading down her back

Framing the face that rivaled the beauty of the lavish roses

Filling the halls.


Several times he had to slip outside and contain himself

For he so wanted to ask her to dance and take her in his arms

The sight of her, the scent of her filled his senses and drove him mad!

And then he would remember who he was...what he was...and pull back.


For Jionn was no ordinary man, no mere mortal by any means

Some might say he was no man at all but he knew who he was

And that he still had the same needs and desires of other men

Perhaps more so, for he had had more time to accumulate them.


He was hungry. Ravenous.

His body burned with need, his heart, almost to bursting with wanting

So long without a hand to hold, a body to embrace, a mouth to kiss

And he knew in that moment that no other mouth would do but hers.


He watched her dance, swirling and twirling around the floor

In the arms of men that would never deserve her, never know her love

Men who looked at her like thirsting men might worship water

Or starving men might gaze upon a feast disbelieving it was real.


He sneered inwardly at them yet at the same time envied them their fortune

To hold that voluptuous and fascinating form in their arms!

To hear the music of her laughter and see her head thrown back

And be close enough to kiss that throat! It was unbearable!


He tried to stay away. For a fortnight, he succeeded

And then again he flew to her balcony and watched her as she slept

The snow had come again and covered the land with it's magic

Every ugly thing had been made beautiful

Even the cemeteries full of bones.


He watched her through the lace curtains on the balcony doors

Her face, soft in the moonlight, her throat displayed and begging to be kissed

He felt the pulse in his veins go wild, the rush of ancient blood call out

He fell to his knees in the snow and grasped his hands together till they bled.


Suddenly, she was there at the curtains! Pulling them back and peering out

He dared not move, letting her think he was something the snow had given shape to

She stood there looking up at the moon, not at him

And he could hear the heart beating in her breast.


She turned to go and the wind blew up the lapels of the long black coat

And she gasped and rushed back to the glass doors 

To see what had caught her eye

But he was gone, hidden from her sight in the cloak of darkness

His unusual eyes gleaming hungrily in the night.





Zayanna was not a woman easy to know

She kept herself in isolation for the most part

Knowing that the secret she bore

Would surely make the strongest of mortals

Flee from her presence and worse, much worse.


She dared not tell her closest friends,

 (If true friends she'd ever had)

For who could understand, accept and receive that hard truth

But scorn it, hate it, despise it and seek to wipe it from memory?


On the morning of the day before her twenty-first birthday

She had been taken aside by her caretakers,

The old women who had always been there

The only family she had ever known.............

And told a great and terrible secret.


At first, in shock, she denied the news

With everything in her

And locked herself in her chambers, refusing food and water

And shutting her ears to the old women's entreaties.


It was too much! Simply too much to bear or believe

"My dear." the two said patiently outside her barricaded door

"Let us in. We have much to tell you before tomorrow. Before it is too late."

But she went out upon the balcony and let them talk to her unlistening door.


As evening fell, she went back inside and prepared for bed

Her stomach rumbled hungrily but she ignored it

A steady rain began to fall but she left the balcony doors open 

And lay in her white sleeping gown and let the rain blow in, chilling her.


There came a loud knock upon her door and she jumped, startled

And hid her face underneath the covers

"Zayanna, sweet girl, let us in! It is imperative that you hear us!

You must know what you will face tomorrow when it comes!"


"Go away!" she shouted, "I don't believe you! Why must you tell me these lies?"

But they were no lies at all but a terrifying and awful truth

That she had come to know and accept in the days, months and years to come

Because she had no choice. No choice at all.


And so she lived in relative isolation there in the many roomed castle

With only the old women for companions and their trusted servants

They took very good care of her for they loved her like a daughter

And tried very diligently to make her misfortune easier to bear.


But it was a half life, a life of waiting for the next time, 

The next horrible visit, the next giving over of her will 

To that of a detested creature for it's own use

If there was a way to break the spell, she did not know it

But feverishly read every secret book, every ancient scroll...

Searching for an answer.


On the morning of her twenty-first birthday, 

She lay in bed, having not slept, staring out of the opened glass doors 

And watched the sun come up

It was the thirtieth of December, cold and wintry and promising snow

But when the sun did come up, it did not shine 

But cast a dark shadow upon her face.


The two women, her "Aunties" she called them, 

Had long since retired and left her alone

Having pleaded with her for hours to let them prepare her

 For the inevitable but she did not listen

She denied them at every turn and closed her ears and heart

Feeling somehow that denial gave her safety. But it did not.


Mid morning, she crept to the door and peeked out quietly

There was a tray of food and milk waiting there

And a letter telling her how very much the "Aunties" loved her

But as she took the tray inside, she heard them weeping

 As though their hearts would break.


Toward evening she lay the book of poetry aside, sat up in bed and listened

The house seemed supernaturally quiet as if holding it's breath

Nothing had happened and she was sure that nothing would

She relaxed, let down her guard and smiled at the terrible joke

That had been played upon her.


Falling asleep, she thought, "I'm twenty-one now. I'm a woman, fully grown

And tomorrow I will begin a new life. I will travel. I will find love. I will live."

She fell into dreams that were happy and bright with expectation, good dreams

But as the hours passed, the dreams became nightmares 

And worse than that:  true.


A thunder clap roused her and as her eyes flew open, she saw that it was dark

Scanning the room, she witnessed the last bit of candle wax

 Give way from it's wick and drop

She threw back the warm covers and put her feet to the cold floor 

And then she heard it: A whisper. 

A voice that did not sound human and yet, how could that be?

 

A dark form filled the closed glass doors and pushed them open 

As a bolt of lightning struck nearby

She  saw something horrible that she could not comprehend and cried out

The form entered the room and the room became even darker

Then the thing spoke..........

"Shhh, Zayanna, be quiet. I have waited for this day for twenty-one years and now it is here."


Zayanna ran for the bedroom door but the door would not budge

"Come here!" the thing said. "Don't fight me. You have no choice. You are mine.

For all my years of sacrificing and waiting in the darkness, you are my prize and I will have you!"

And the thing came closer and closer......

And molded it's terrible form to hers, into hers, and she was gone.



...perhaps to be continued in another space and time.......

3 comments:

  1. Quietly delicious in tempo and compelling tension. Beauty and Beast is a poor second to this. Sending a rapturous thunder bolt of salutations. The Man in Shadow. Ramon.

    ReplyDelete
  2. πŸ‘€πŸ₯ΈπŸ˜± hey Ramon! 😊

    ReplyDelete