Decay

by Sam

Forever, and ever

A heavy misty rose from the cobblestone ground, and danced in the atmosphere. Swirls of dust, and light particles put on a dark ballet, for the night. The darkness presented silent screams of torcher, and demise that were so sweetly spoken they blinded the hearing into thinking all was well. Not one sine of life was around. No breaths could be heard with even the most acute of hearing. No child could be found with even the most brilliant private eye. The town was dead, completely and utterly dead. Yet amongst all this non existent life, was one form. One not so much seen, but herd. A series of foot steps, walking down a cobblestone lane. Walking away from the non existent society, and outcast among outcasts. Speaking no words, thinking no thoughts. Just the sound of sharp footsteps, agents the ground. It walked into the mist, and diapered from sight.

Luca awoke, from his slumber. Heart beating faster than ever, and breathe close behind. The nightmare had been so real. The mist, the smell of death, the undying emptiness that was the world at that instant. All seemed so real, so pure. But there he was, in his apartment, in south Wales. The light trying to shin through the black curtains, and the early morning dew smell in the air. No, it was just a nightmare. Nothing more nothing less. A non important thought that somehow had entered his mind, and taken over for some short while, but now had passed, along with the disease of night. For to really go through that dream in life, would be true hell.

The rest of the morning became more of a blur. Everything flowed together and seemed to have no thought to them. His mind wondered on that dream, or rather, nightmare. His mind dwelled on the figure. The figure that simply walked out into the distance. He wondered if it were human, or if it had caused the emptiness in the town. In the end it made no difference, after all if it was just a dream, then he had nothing to worry about.

A knock came upon the door. Soft and almost silent at first, then loud and full of determination. At first Luca thought to ignore it, he did not want to see anyone at that moment, still in the after shock of his nightmare. But as the knock became louder and more demanding, he could no longer ignore it. He walked to the door cautiously, oh so cautiously, not sure of what awaited him on the other side. The handle twisted in his hand, the hinges squeaked as the door slowly opened. And finally a shape came into focus in the doorway.

Claudette awoke shaking. She was not cold, but rather in fear. She saw it again. The dream, she had dreamt for many nights now. Always the same. A figure standing in the distance, simply staring at her, making her fear it. And then she runs into the night, not sure of the reason. This dream had puzzled her for many nights now, unable to be explained. Something about it, made the scene real, and almost natural.

She stood and sat facing her window. Looking at the sun in all its glory. The day always made even the worst of nights seem, as if no one could even contemplate them happening. She walked over into her kitchen, started a pot of water for tea, and sat down at the bar. And then something strange happened, the door bell rang. Now normally this would not seem strange, but no one ever visited this early in the morning. She walked over to the main entrance way, and undid the two locks, twisted the handle and pulled the door open.

Luca stared at her. The figure he had wondered about was now in perfect view, staring back at him in the same amazement. He now knew it was a woman, about 5’9. She had ghost white skin, and long raven hair, flowing down gently past her waist. She wore what looked to be a velvet dress, with a matching trench. Strange symbols were embroidered around the neck and sleeves, strange yet unceasingly familiar. A puzzled look was upon her face, as if confused at the sight of him.

He then looked behind her. It wasn’t the apartment hallway, but the same cobblestone path, in the dream. Empty and covered in mist. Was this another dream he thought. Surly it couldn’t be real, there was no way. No chance that what was before him was actually there.

She looked at the man in front of her. He looked so familiar, but he couldn’t be who she thought he was. He couldn’t be the figure, staring at her. But his black cloak, and black hair, was so familiar. He couldn’t be thought, she couldn’t be living her dream. Claudette then looked to her feet. She was no longer wearing her robe, but a velvet dress. Symbols embroidered on it, matching the ones on the man in front of her. It didn’t make sense. He was the man from her dream, but he was not terrifying, but rather, comfortable to be around. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. She was dreaming, and if not, she must have become schizophrenic.

“You . . .” that was all she could say, outstretching her hand. Who was he, why was he there, what was he doing invading her dreams. So many questions, but no words that could describe them.

“Who are you?!? What are you doing here? Why am I here? Where are we?” Luca was obviously confused at the situation

“I should be asking you the same thing. You were in my dream.”

“You were in mine”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know! You figure it out. Who are you?”

“I’m Claudette Lunest, who are you?”

“Luca, Luca O’Connor. Where the hell are we?”

She looked behind her, in hope of maybe finding something, but only the dark mist surrounded her. “I know not. But something’s wrong I can feel it.”

“What?” He seemed angry that she did not know where they were, or what was going on.

“Why isn’t there anyone here? For one thing”

“We’re here.”

She was being to notice he was a sharp one. “Listen what happened in your dream?”

“Well, it was dark, and you ran in the opposite direction. Yours?” “You just stood there, and I ran in the opposite direction.” “Were you running from something?”

“I don’t know I was just running”

She was getting aggravated, and so was he. Everything didn’t make sense. Why were they there, what connection did they have. Claudette, looked at him closely again. “Listen, just look around, try to find something, anything, to help us.”

Luca didn’t like taking orders. But there was nothing else he could do. She looked so familiar, not just because of the dream, something else. She looked a lot like . . . no she couldn’t be. He killed her. He killed that vampire centuries ago. Before time was time. But the immortal in him, wouldn’t let the idea die. She couldn’t be, there was no way. And then he found it. The sword stuck in the ground. Still coated in blood. The stench of a thousand killings still on it. “What if it is her.” he thought. The idea was becoming a decision. He had to be sure, if she was the vampire than, he would be doing a good deed for human kind, if not, it was just one less person in the world. He picked up the sword, and ran towards her.

Claudette felt a sharp pain her back. And fell to the ground. She looked to her chest and found the tip of a dagger sticking out of her. This happened before; no it couldn’t be, not again. It was he, the warlock who ‘killed’ her so long ago. The symbols on his cloak now made sense. It was now clear why everything was so familiar. She stood and tuned to him, her eyes red with fury. “So it is you!”

Luca backed away; she was not even in pain. The demon walked in stead of turning to ash, it made no sense. “How?”

“You learn a lot about spells when you live for centuries, immortality can always be extended.”

“I killed you and ill kill you a thousand times more!”

“And every time ill come back. Don’t you see warlock, it doesn’t matter how many times you try to destroy me with magic, ill come back, and you will fail.”

She reached behind her back and pulled out the sword, then jamming it into his heart.

A heavy misty rose from the cobblestone ground, and danced in the atmosphere. Swirls of dust, and light particles put on a dark ballet, for the night. The darkness presented silent screams of torcher, and demise that were so sweetly spoken they blinded the hearing into thinking all was well. Not one sine of life was around. No breaths could be heard with even the most acute of hearing. No child could be found with even the most brilliant private eye. The town was dead, completely and utterly dead. Yet amongst all this non existent life, were two forms. A body falling to the ground in defeat and another walking silently into the darkness, with a smile of triumph upon her face.

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The old man sat in his chair, drinking his wine, and watching the television screen. A small timid, man came toward him a look of confusion on his face.

“Master, “he spoke “why go thought this over and over again? Why must he live his defeat for eternity?”

“Don’t you see Raul, the greatest hell, is failing to defeat, till the end of your days.” The old man picked up the remote, and pushed play again. And the television began to play a scene not so unfamiliar.

Luca awoke, from his slumber. Heart beating faster than ever, and breathe close behind. The nightmare had been so real. The mist, the smell of death, the undying emptiness that was the world at that instant. All seemed so real, so pure. But there he was, in his apartment, in south Wales. The light trying to shin through the black curtains, and the early morning dew smell in the air. No, it was just a nightmare. Nothing more nothing less. A non important thought that somehow had entered his mind, and taken over for some short while, but now had passed, along with the disease of night. For to really go through that dream in life, would be true hell.