"The creature was shaped like a man, yet its ghoulish appearance and pale flesh were unlike anything I had ever seen."

            Disturbing and unspeakable things have I seen during this life. Yet I pray to everything holy and pure that there will never be a night darker than that of December 4th. Though my pen moves rapidly in excitement, I beg you to put this memoir down immediately. Put it away, far away from you. Be grateful for your sanity, for it is of much more worth than any knowledge I can hope to impart on you in my tale of the bizarre and wicked. If you continue, you will know as well as I that the world is not a simple place; it is unpredictable, chaotic, and cruel.

            10:03; my face seared with the chill, or perhaps heat of the water I had drenched my head in. Feelings had practically ceased to exist, as well as my perception of time and rational thought. The unruly chaos that had consumed my mind was screaming fragments of thoughts at me each and every second. I must've told myself a hundred times that I was dreaming, but the scorching feeling coursing throughout my body convinced me otherwise.

            My fingers stroked the tile floor spasmodically in an attempt to convince myself that this world wasn't real; it couldn't be. An hour ago, my life had been perfectly normal. I had a wife, a house, a job. Yet the contents of my logical life became less and less real inside the confines of my mind with each new analyzation. Kara...I whispered in my mind amidst the chaos, and felt sick to my stomach.

            She was more real than anything else in my life. The glare that was noticeable in her eyes on the darkest of nights, the curves of her body, every freckle and birthmark; everything that had seemed subtle, yet beautiful, was gone. My heart pounded in my chest every time our lips met, every time her green eyes stared deeply into mine, and every time we would silently ponder unique existence of each other. Oh, what wondrous love...yet as much as I loved her, I realized that every night she was at my side was a night I had taken her for granted.

            10:06; despite the aching feeling in my legs, I managed to pick myself up. Staggering from the bathroom to the bedroom, my body shook with each cautious and careful step. As my foot crossed into the familiar shag carpet, the deafening silence became too much to bear. I breathed heavily to prevent my ears from ringing in the lack of any audible noise.

            The bed stood directly in front of me; our bed. It was the very place she had been taken from me. Yet the sheets and mattress still held the faint depressed outline of her resting body. Her side of the comforter was folded in, the way it was every night before she closed her eyes. Kara's scream repeated itself a thousand times over in the deep recesses of my mind. I pressed my hand to my mouth and shut my eyes tight to prevent myself from spilling the contents of my stomach onto the floor below me.

            I slammed my head into the comfort of the bed sheets, inhaling deep to catch the remnants of her aroma. The scent of her silky brown hair filled my nostrils before I picked my head back up, and stared at the window. Why couldn't it have been me? was the thought that haunted my mind. I could see her face as she was pulled out the window. She was crying out to me for help, and I was helpless from my position in the room. My heart sank at my imagined image of her cold and lifeless body, and I looked back down at my watch.

            10:12; but just what was it that stolen her in the night? What nightmarish creature had I seen outside of the window? The idea of my insanity seemed much more plausible, but I knew I had seen something. A tattered black robe, and an inhuman creature, had been no more than three feet away from where I stood at the bedside. The creature was shaped like a man, yet its ghoulish appearance and pale flesh were unlike anything I had ever seen. It was as if I had stared death in the face, and it had grimaced right back.

            10:23; I paced around the kitchen, searching my feelings for some sign of hope. I found no such consolation from the bottle of ‘89 Merlot I sipped endlessly. When the bittersweet taste kicked me back to my senses, and the nature of the situation, I put the wine away and made my way towards the silverware drawer. She has to be alive I thought to myself, She has to be. Without the slightest idea of my direction or plan, I grabbed the largest knife I could find and made my way out of the house, and into the depths of the woods.

            I wandered aimlessly for what seemed like an eternity. Perhaps it was the Merlot, or the sheer unreal nature of the situation, but I began to wander north. I still ask myself why, or rather what, caused me to walk that way. I cannot pretend that it was anything more than a gut feeling, or my mere imagination, but I felt myself getting closer to her. I could practically feel her hands clasped tight in mine, her small, fragile, and comforting hands. The hands that would hold me tight in the dead of night, the hands that were closed in mine in joyous respite on our wedding day. Oh, what wondrous love.

            11:06; I had begun to approach a strange event taking place in the heart of the woods. Three pillars of smoke rose from the mysterious location, and the smell of burning wood filled the air around me. The sight before me was a small fragment of hope, in the midst of the chaotic darkness that had consumed my mind. A primitive wooden altar stood in a small clearing in the surrounding forest. Laying outstretched on top of the ebon altar was Kara; draped in leaves from the preceding autumn.

          Three spectral creatures waltzed around the altar; half dancing, and half gliding through the air. In the lunar glow of the forest, their skin did not appear pale, it was instead a faint blue, at least where the flesh had not begun to decay. The forest floor was decorated by the mutilated carcasses and skeletons of animals, most of which had had their heads severed to adorn the base of the unholy altar. I gripped the knife tightly in my fist, and paced forward.

            The sound of my footstep, which seemed silent enough to my ears, made the creatures stop dead in their movements. One of them met me eye to eye, a creature I recognized; a creature that had clothed itself in darkness outside of my window. Its eyes were as black as tar, and no matter how deep I stared into its eyes, I could not find the end of their darkness. It was neither male or female; gender did not seem to apply to something so inhumane and demonic. I watched as its bony finger pointed at me, in a way that seemed it had done a thousands times before, a way that I could not understand, yet I felt the power of such an occult and ritualistic gesture. When its jaggedly cut fingernail reached my eye level, I fell to the ground.

            I cannot tell you what manner of Black Magic was cast upon me, but I couldn’t move a muscle in my body. What I can tell you is that in that moment, I prayed for the help of my friends, my family, and any higher power. There was no response.

            As I lay there on the ground, I was forced to watch the dark ritual continue. Time was no longer important, there was only life and death. The creatures chanted in an ancient language, and their words, or curses, or spells, were chanted louder and louder. Kara showed one last flicker of life; she looked at me, she looked at me, and smiled wide. Oh, what wondrous love.

            Then, in front of my eyes, I watched the life drained from my love. The creatures crouched close to her, and inhaled deeply. I watched a blue mist leave her mouth and nostrils, leaving her body frail. And then, as quickly as they had stolen her, they were gone. Their existence in this world wouldn’t be remembered; they would become nothing more than a bedtime story.

            I do not know how long I cried at the feet of that altar. It was ironic that I kneeled helpless before the very thing that had brought me the most evil. There was not a single scratch on the body of Kara, yet her body remained cold, lifeless, and skeletal. Why her? What had she done? It was then that I realized the cruelty of the world; the very idea that life could…would end at any given moment. I had failed…my most important task in life…I had failed.

            I carried her body home with me; I couldn’t leave it in that god-forbidden forest. I brought her body into the house; I didn’t want to see her get any colder. I still sleep with that knife next to me, awaiting the return of the horrors I had seen on the night of December 4th. Kara’s side of the bed is still folded, the way it was that night. I placed her body gently back in the bed the way it was that night. She still sleeps next to me; her body…her skeleton between my sheets. Oh, what wondrous love.

 

©Jeffrey Braga 2009