Tuesday, June 30, 2015

long rope ladder

Full lightlessness may have been kinder. A sick sheen of frothing sweat gleamed in the ever-receding light of the oubliette. Feverish dreams haunted her beyond sleeping.

She lay splayed on the floor, trying to descend the hundred-fold steps into Hypnos’s Realm.
Somewhere above a madman laughed and gibbered in garrulous abandon. Between tittering madness and hot wretched thirst, she could effect no escape nor seek a moment’s succor.

Rosalind smelled him, even above the stink of that place. Desperate sadism made for a wretched fragrance, even against the rotted corpses of hope stacked deep in that terrible place.

Her weak-seeming protestations and struggles lulled him into the horrid routine he knew too well. She snapped the icy chains and released the seal within her chest. A righteous fire of self surged through her. White raging necessity overwhelmed her eyes.

When the icy chains reformed, when her vision returned, when normative reality remained, she withdrew her thumbs from his voided eye sockets. She tossed aside his ragged remains and stood on shaking limbs. Sometime later, she swallowed the terrible metal taste on her tongue.

It took ages, but she managed to gather her wits as well as the corpse’s ring of keys. She put one foot above the other and started up the long rope ladder.

No comments:

Post a Comment