chapter 3

I wanted to submit, to ease the severe physical suffering of the experience of pain and torment that was driving everyone to endless madness, including myself. But I couldn't, because I didn't know how. And neither could I ask out loud the creature that was still holding me in a tight sinister embrace to enlighten my dim ignorance; for its hand was still on my mouth, trapping my unsaid words, questions and pleas deep down my throat, never loosening up its grip on me.

Did I have the nerve to dare hope? To hope that somehow the gods above at last sympathized- or rather pitied the misfortunate situation that I unwillingly was put in? Dare I really hope if only for a mere moment that a miracle was to see me through and drag us out from this red-hot, scorching, handmade hell? Was this a chance given by the gods for me to redeem myself in my last moments? To die knowing sure enough that the people I have wronged were to be righted for their own good? Or was it just the last joke hurled at me from the universe as a closure for its mockery that was full of sickening enthusiasm only to rise up my hopes one last time just to let them be crashed and squashed at the end under the feet of my own ghoulish fate- or in this case, to end up dead as the villain of the town and be forever hated by the those you loved the most for something you had no intention of causing.

Despite all my bitter thoughts and rather sharp reasoning, I thought: even though my life never mattered, anyhow, I was more than willing to give up my heart, soul and life in order to save the people that I loved and cared for. However, I had a bad feeling thudding within me; I couldn't bring myself to believe that I was provided  with a second chance; because all I could hear was the harsh voice of my reason that was telling me not to submit but to fight back, to never retreat no matter what. It was a rather sickening and a repulsive feeling to be honest, but what if my reason itself was ruled by my curse as well? Nevertheless, I could not help but wonder if the body that struck an ominous reminder of death and that was suffocating me  still really had our sake at heart, so, why was it lacking the kind and sense of holiness, if it were really sent from the skies for a good cause.  Although it had a voice of a sweet female, I couldn't address it thus, for it had an air of it that seemed to scream of unholiness as though the whispers it murmured in a low and indistinct voice near my ear had a promise of shame and vendetta. Who were they those 'though dead a long time ago shall be forgiven' ? Was I to relent for the faults of the dead that I had with no acquaintance whatsoever, or was I to relent for the people my treacherous spell turned against instead of helping them?  All I wished for on this moment was for the end -my end- to come as soon as possible, for I could not take it any longer; I was losing my breath, my mind and my reason all at once.

The ground underneath started to move hard as I felt a rush of a light breeze run through my veins, waking up my whole body from its ablaze slumber and making my core rock and shift in affirming sorrow, in inhuman speed. The seventh raven black sky was finding a way to shake the twinkling  stars off of its surface and instead putting on an holy ornament that was blinding my eyes from its light. Finally able to push them open, my eyes as well as my mind both started to race around through details that had emerged out of nowhere around the woods, trying so hard to glimpse sight of the girls whose screams has subsided a while ago. 

Everything seemed to have risen from the dead.

Light staring all around in a blazing glare, I felt the body above me flinch in nervousness as though a growing tension was taking over it. No longer trying to convince me to retreat and hand over my 'power'  by sending rotten smelling whispers that sent shivers running down my back to my ear, the corpse above me still slapping its hand of death against my mouth took off the hand that was suffocating me off my neck, and instead replaced it on my eyes as though demanding of me not to see what was about to happen next, or worse not to see its face.

No longer having morbid hands on my neck driving the life out of me and blocking air from going into my lungs, I was grateful for the ability to breathe at last. And, so I decided not to fight the body that was holding me in one place up in the sky till I completely managed to let enough air enter  through my nose into my lungs, and into my mind before allowing myself to start thinking of a way to pull it off of me, push hard against it, and cripple it just like how it was crippling me right now, and demand of it an answer about the long dead people it was talking about and their unforgiven deeds that shall be forgiven if I were to hand over my curse; but first and foremost to demand an answer on what had accrued to the girls that set the bonfire before my hellish arrival. And if it were of any help, I'd even beg for answered on whether or not was the spell I casted at fault, and have I angered any of the gods, The Mother, the creatures of the woods or anyone that was torturing me such like this.

Having had enough air entered my system, right  this moment, I had no intention whatsoever to waste any more time before I started struggling hard against the morbid creature that was taking refuge above me, making me ache in pain as it twisted and turned. Something - maybe the source of the blinding light- was causing it to flinch as an instinctive reaction to fear, pain, or surprise. And so its tight embrace around me started to flatter and loosen up a bit; it now as though it longer needed,  sought for or wanted my powers but to just disappear  cease to be visible at a fast speed and rapidly as  how it emerged on the first place but  with out giving away or handing hints of its truthful identity. Whatever that was.

As if in forewarning, the wind suddenly picked up, brisk and refreshingly cool on my once hot face. Against wet skin, he knew it would feel icy. The pungent odor of fresh manure blended with the dusty smell of alfalfa hay to lay heavily on the crisp night air. Nickers of welcome drifted to him from the shadowy stalls. Under other circumstances, Alex might have stopped, but he didn’t have the time or inclination to hand out sugar lumps to the horses tonight. Instead of taking the trodden path, Douglas cut through the woods to reach the swimming hole, and it was rough terrain. Despite her yearning to trust Alex, he looked alarmingly wide That is the fatality of faith, and the lesson of romance.

  I called out, but my own voice as though underwater, distorted, ever so slow and lonely, it echoed back upon me.He stood watching as they plunged into the alder-clump, brushing the lithe swinging branches aside. In a few moments they emerged, dragging a body after them into the sunlight. He turned away in horror. It seemed to him that misfortune followed wherever he went. He heard Sir Geoffrey ask if the man was really dead, and the affirmative answer of the keeper. The wood seemed to him to have become suddenly alive with faces. There was the trampling of myriad feet and the low buzz of voices. A great copper-breasted pheasant came beating through the boughs overhead.Just ahead, mostly hidden by the trees, was a face. An old woman- a crone with a bent, crooked nose was watching him holding me in his tight embrace, as still as the snowy world around us. His skin was lined and grooved like bark, his hair long and tinged green like moss, his eyes the pale blue of an icy pool. She had never seen him before.A soft panting sound drifted towards me, and the bushes swayed.