Wail of a Banshee
02:30 Feb 13 2011
Times Read: 839
His breath came out in a steamy cloud as his heart beat faster, the fear of what was behind him too great for him to stop even as his muscles protested in pain. He jumped over the fallen log, twigs and small branches snapped under his weight as the wailing sounds from behind him, sent a bolt of terror down his back. If only he could reach the edge of the woods. The village would offer a safe haven. A shadow covered the full moon above him and he could not help himself, looking up to see the dark cloth floating by no more then a few feet above his head.
Down he went, his feet snagged in the underbrush of the woods, what breath he did have knocked out of him as a sharp pain filled his body from the fall. As he lay, trying to get the strength needed to lift his head, his chest, up onto his knees and stand, he heard the flapping of the clothing again, then the sound of her landing beside him. He closed his eyes, as if he would be safe if he did not see her. He felt a weight at his waist as she straddle his hips, her cold hands running up his back, to his shoulders as she lean down to speak into his ear, her strange voice echoing inside his head.
“I am not Medusa, you can look at me with turning to stone.” He kept his eyes closed, breathing in her scent of moss and death. “The village would not have saved you. Do you think I don’t go into the village? I might even be a villager you know.” “I know no monster such as thee“ he said with rage, his hands fisting in the dead leaves tightly. “Monster?” He felt her laugh, her thighs tighten on his hips as she did, her hands moving back down the sides of his body as she lay on him. He felt his body react to her touch, the feel of her hands running down the sides of his chest, pulling his loose shirt the rest of the way out of his pants.
He felt her lips at his ear as her cold hands touched his stomach, the razor sharp nails leaving small marks on his skin as she took a deep breath. “Such life. The hot body, the skin so soft, such passion. And the heart beat, it is as a moth to a the flame for me.” One hand moved up his chest to lay above his heart, beating rapidly. The other moved lower and he lifted his hips upward to give her hand room, the sharp cuts turning into a strange pleasure she was inflicting.
His breath came out in slow deep pants as she worked her magic on him, his body finding the danger, the ungodliness of the act taking over even as his mind screamed in horror of what she was doing. “You know what I am. You know you will die tonight. My call is for you and you alone.” His arms moved closer to his body as she pushed his body to pleasure. Her cold dry tongue ran along the edge of his ear as he lifted his head, his face twisted in a pleasure unlike any he had known before. She cut into his chest, the warm blood rushing over his hand as the first spray of warmth covered her other hand.
His scream filled the air, a scream of pleasure and pain, of horror and fear, and of a rage he did not understand himself. He went limp, her hand moving off his body as her weight shifted. He was turned over to his back and he looked up at the stars and moon above him thru the tree branches, the cold earth below him cooling his hot body.
“Look at me, see death as it come to you.” He turned his head to see her for the first time. She knelt beside him, her long hair peeking out of the cloak hood, the pale skin glowing almost in the moonlight. It was not until she lifted her face that he saw the true meaning of death. One eye was different than the other, the ghostly white of death layering it. Her face was of a ghostly gray cast, cracked and black in some areas. He let out another scream but this one was full of only fear. “Hush it will be over quickly” she said softly, her deformed clawed fingers running thru his hair as her other hand lifted above her, the razor like edge catching the glint in the moonlight just before it arched downward, her short wail being the last thing to hear as the roar of death rushed him as she slit his throat.
She stood, leaving his body on the ground, wiping the blood off on her cloak as she watched his life leave him. She watched as the blood coated the earth, giving life back to it. She watched as he looked at his own hands, covered in blood. As he tried to speak, to breath, the blood gushed out of the deep wound. She smiled down at him, floating off the ground as the last of his life seeped into the ground. As his eyes watched her, she watched him, her head tilted to the side as it she waited.
The spark, the life left his eyes as his body stilled. She lifted her head to the sky and her banshee song filled the night air, a high pitched wail of a sound that sent chills down the village people who heard it in the dead of night. The wolfs came slowly out of the woods, the glowing eyes landing on the offer she gave them in the form of food. She turned in the air, returning to the woods with a bat like flap of her arms, the blood stain cloak tatter ends waving in the air behind her.
COMMENTS
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mindgeeee
22:01 Sep 10 2012
Nice story