Hey guys. Took a little long for this one with college and all. Please let me know what you think in the comment section below. This guys tragic story is going to end quite soon. Be sure to catch part one and two if you haven’t yet by clicking the tag “In a Darkened Room”.
His heart stopped. His skin went cold. The blood had drained from his face and left him as pale as the corpse of his love in his arms. The very air in his lungs seemed stolen from him. He opened his mouth to scream, but his throat squeezed shut. And only when the man saw the eyes of his dead lover roll towards him did he regain control of his body. With a belting shout, he dropped his lover’s corpse and crawled away from her, until he sat in the middle of the dark cellar under the dim light.
“It’s okay, my love. We can still be together.” The man heard his lover’s voice from the darkness.
The man buried his head between his arms and pinched the sides of his head tight. He began rocking back and forth, like a child abandoned on the streets. But he sprung to his feet at the sound of laughter; at the giggles of children. The man spun towards the stairs, but he saw no children at play. He then spun back towards the sound of feet scratching dirt, and to his fright, there stood his lover, his wife.
She stepped towards him, her ankle broken from when she’d tumbled down the stairs, and reached out with frail hands. The man found himself unable to move again, petrified. It was only when she touched his palm that he found his strength restored. He squeezed his fist tight and gripped the slick handle of a cutting knife she’d handed him, wide faced and thin edged.
“Come with me, my love…” His lover’s voice was as cold as her flesh, and just as dead.
The man took the knife in both of his hands.
“Come with us, daddy…” He heard the children’s voices again.
The man lashed out. “Show yourselves!” But there were no children to be seen. He turned on his heals over and over, creating circles in the dirt until he saw his reflection again, this time in the shadows.
“It’s okay. This is our secret.”
“Come with me, my love.”
“Come with me, my love.”
“Stop!” The man thrashed about, sending the knife sliding into the shadows and his wife stumbling back into the puddle of blood where she’d first lied.
With a demonic shriek, the man bolted at his corpse lover, picking up the hammer on his way to her side. He brought the hammer over his head as he dropped to his knees, and using every bit of his strength, he brought the hammer down onto the corpse’s face. First he took her eyes, so that she may never entrap him in her gaze again. Then he took her lips, smashing through skin and bone, so that she may never beckon him with her siren voice. It was only once his hammer struck stone that the man ceased his attack and his throat tearing screams. The hammer slipped from his grasp, a whole new layer of blood coating his hand and shirt. And when he brought his soaked hand to his face, he painted his mouth crimson red.
“This is my secret,” he heaved. And then, in his exhaustion, he chuckled.