Enlightenment

“What is it, Andrew?” I whisper next to his ear, the mockingly comforting tone almost too evident in my voice. I can sense his lips trembling against the palm of my hand, a low whimper dying in his throat before it’s even born.

The man’s sweat reeks of fear and a bad conscience, slowly dripping down his forehead and over his firmly shut eyelids, an agonizing grimace deforming his face. His heartbeat has been racing for a while now, a most predictable reaction a living body presents when stricken by panic. The nostrils are flaring to his fast breath, causing faint squeaking sounds, as the air rushes through the bloody passages.

I nod understandingly with a low “Shhh...” and begin to lead him back to the same, tranquil place he so enjoys.

Both his five year old twin daughters, Chalice and Amanda, are sitting at the front porch of the house, their blond hair shimmers in the bright summer sunlight and their cheerful laughter fills the air around the small cottage property. Carried by the gentle breeze, a familiar and most pleasant scent reaches his nose. He eagerly turns his gaze towards the kitchen window, catching his wife’s smirk as their eyes meet, a steaming cooking pot on the wood stove next to her. He begins to walk towards the front door, extending his right hand to stroke Chalice’s head. She turns her angelic face up to him, offering him a smile that makes his heart miss a few beats.

By now his breath and heartbeat have eased down noticeably, his shoulders are sagging as the painfully accumulated tension abandons his limbs. I smile, whispering a few soothing words into his ear and allow him to linger in this moment of happiness for a while longer. His sweat soaks the smooth silken surface of my glove as my index finger traces his left temple a few moments later.

At this very instant, the cottage entrance, the porch and the girls disappear into a sudden flash of blinding light, followed by a strong gust of cold wind. His sight finally returns to the panicking shrieks of his family. It’s dark and cold, as if the summer turned into the coldest winter within the blink of an eye. The shrieks die out as suddenly as they began the moment he notices a thin trail of blood on the wall in front of him. He can feel its metallic taste filling his mouth as he follows it downwards with his gaze.

Chalice’s wide open eyes are staring at him from amidst a bloody mass of hair, flesh and bones, which is lying motionless next to the door; the look in them revealing nothing but terror and death. Next to her lies Amanda, her carcass carries a deep wound in the stomach, as if repeatedly hacked with an axe. His wife’s body is hanging face down over the broken kitchen window, pierced by countless glass shards; one of them is still attached to the frame, its sharp tip coming out the back of her waist. He inhales sharply, his trembling lips parting in an attempt to scream, but to no avail; only a chocked whimper can be heard. He lifts his hands only to see them coated with the warm, dark red.

Andrew spasms, as the pain rifles through his body once more, the unbearable tension returns to his muscles, forcing his heartbeat to accelerate rapidly, escorted by his breath. My smile widens to the sight but I remain silent. Words would only ruin this wonderful moment of clarity. I’m content, for he has finally realized what it feels like to have your most beloved things taken away from you. If he could only have possessed this newly acquired knowledge back then… none of this would have been necessary. It didn’t matter anymore however. Now he knew that killing a man’s offspring and wife can easily drive him to insanity; he knew that he shouldn’t have done it; he knew, only because he had been there himself. His current state of mind, blessed with this valuable piece of enlightenment, was something no court or prison would have offered him.

The humidity on the bricks behind him makes the mossy stone glister as a dim beam of light begins to extend itself across the dark room, invading it through a thin crack between the sealed shutters. I take my eyes off him to glance halfway over my shoulder while leaning back. My attention is drawn to a distant rhythmical sound for a brief moment; a sound which is soon identified and disregarded as harmless. The plated footsteps of the guard become louder as he approaches, swinging the lamp in front of the basement window while passing by. Shortly after, both the darkness and the silence settle back in the small room.

I return my gaze down to him again, watching him shiver in the lucidity I created for him. His state makes me realize that his mind has proven to be even more fragile and susceptible to my handling than I expected. His body is strong enough to endure this to the end, there is no doubt about it. His mind however is obviously not.

“What is a body capable of without a properly functioning mind, Andrew?” I whisper after leaning closer to him again. I smile in response to the absence of any reaction from his behalf, apart from the same pathetic attempts to scream. I stroke the side of his head with my finger in an almost loving manner, before I let the journey begin anew.

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OOC: This a short look into a situation where Mandui is practicing her priestly abilities, but this time not in the same kind manner most have experienced her in ICly.

The story was most certainly a pleasure to read; I especially liked the beginning paragraphs. However, I'm a bit confused. Was the story being narrated through Mandui or some sort of ghost / incorpereal being? As the story progressed, I thought that the narrator was actually some sort of spirit or something.

EDIT: Oh how silly of me! I forgot that Mandui was a priest, tsk tsk! At any rate, it was a well written story and I hope you continue it: you've definitely caught my attention!

It's Mandui herself describing the scene indeed.

Mandui wrote:It's Mandui herself describing the scene indeed.

Am I right in guessing that the scene was only happening in Andrew's head or am I a complete dunce? :p

Shaelyssa wrote:
Am I right in guessing that the scene was only happening in Andrew's head or am I a complete dunce? :p

Ask yourself then how they can be at the yard of a cottage and in a basement room at the same time

Mandui wrote:

Shaelyssa wrote:
Am I right in guessing that the scene was only happening in Andrew's head or am I a complete dunce? :p

Ask yourself then how they can be at the yard of a cottage and in a basement room at the same time :P

I seemed to have missed an entire paragraph, it seems :p.

Shaelyssa wrote:

Mandui wrote:

Shaelyssa wrote:
Am I right in guessing that the scene was only happening in Andrew's head or am I a complete dunce? :p

Ask yourself then how they can be at the yard of a cottage and in a basement room at the same time

I seemed to have missed an entire paragraph, it seems :p.

READING

L2doit

I loved it! Well done

...I feel so darned hit.

I'm totally not going to use Andrew anymore. <.<


Jokes aside. Really great story Mandui!

Well written Enjoyed it!

What a nice side of Mand.

That story is so sad it almost makes me want to stop being a priest. I'll go be farmer or something and rid myself of the misery that taints this world. This is beyond my mind and heart to handle.

Well written

Jeanpierre wrote:That story is so sad it almost makes me want to stop being a priest. I'll go be farmer or something and rid myself of the misery that taints this world. This is beyond my mind and heart to handle.

Well written

There is always an unpleasant side to most things but that side is also necessary. Stop fiddling that robe and grow a pair, damn you! And thanks

(....yes, I forgot about this thread until now. I'm only almost a year late with the reply <_<)