The Silent Passion

Reads: 89  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 1

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

On the night before Valentine's Day, a stranger will meet a beautiful woman under a mysterious lamp post. The next night they will meet, and as romantic as he is, the lamp post is a scarier presence to hold a date. Will it be love at first sight, or will the lonely woman reveal why she is always under the same lamp post?

The sky is red when the romance of winter is tomorrow, a volcanic ocean when the sky is a mirror itself. The sky dark, even the night sleeps with her eyes closed. A pavement to walk on to get to the corridor, needing a dead end to reach the handle so that it can be unlocked. Past the dark painting of the sky and the darker forest, the abyss is ready to kill a boy on the first date. Footsteps pass each sign where light is meant to shine, a dark palette painted the night black from the paint brush of where light will stand. Underneath it all in the darkness is the ocean, in daylight it is blue, but at night it is black oil. The wind blows cold, people of old age choking when they cannot breathe, their death will become a cold case as old as time.

So much beauty in the night, no curtains on the rail to end the play from snow. The night is the darkest it has been in a while, a shark can kill in the ocean, with a passport photo free from a smile. It begins to snow, people upstairs are abusing drugs again. Tears from the white clouds, crying emotion when they are really crying out for drugs. This time of year, it has begun to snow quite late. The seasons are always changing, so the months are not set for certain seasons anymore. The night will always be remembered for being the darkest, and also the coldest. The snow falling is a beautiful sight, and people sometimes prefer it to rain.

An intrinsic dense fog covering all around, and from the ground the stars are choking on a poisonous gas. As silent as the picture stays, a different world when the darkness decides to change the landscape. Hope just a few steps further, a light at the end of the tunnel before the train comes. A shadow appears in the sight of hope, the movement has stopped when a flock of birds is flying away. Flowers are given for a wedding, a flock of birds are for a funeral. It is the night before Valentine’s Day, and a lonesome man stands under the only lamppost where light will need a lamp shade. His shadow revealing his presence, one push out of the circle and it becomes a triangle. No flickering from the light, he is the ship that was guided safely on seas to his destination under the watchful eye of the lighthouse.

He is standing like he is lost. And under the only light he is now found. He is the self-charging battery that keeps the light shining on a torch. Standing alone in the cold like a snowman trying to tan on a sunbed. Looking in all directions and the fog is looking at him like a spider ready to kill after mating. It seems he does not recognise this place, judging by the wrong turn on his face.

His shadow not alone, taking to the dance, the shadow of a beautiful monster. Inside the light stands the reason he stopped. A beautiful woman beautifully angelic with gothic eyes, without the snakes of Medusa, not able to turn him into stone. Directly high above them stars entwine, two souls found forever when their light burnt out. Replacement light bulbs will not work because the night is afraid of using electricity. The fog afraid of her aura, instead it adds to the orchestra. Their eyes melt into each other, like wax melting at Madame Tussauds. Only eyes gaze for the night, the romance of the darkness, the colours of their pupils revealed, their theatre of tragedy.

The girl points to her mouth, the answer to her clue rides south. The man is not understanding, his failure too demanding, how is he standing? The girl points to her mouth again, where her tongue is causing her pain. The man with hands shaking as he doesn’t understand what his own eyes are seeing. Not understanding the girl, he is stuck by her beauty. She is trying to communicate, but the man remains clueless. The smile on her face becoming fragile, but she still reveals a cheeky grin. The man has his eyes in a trance looking at the most perfect sight, gaining a blush from the girl.

He does not understand what she is trying to say so it leaves him a dictionary short on a first date. She is smiling but the darkness is great at camouflaging emotion. It’s like this is the first time he is meeting a girl. He is clearly a google search short of asking a girl out. The wind is blowing colder, he is about to be given the cold shoulder. She is teasing him because her lipstick is looking scarier than the kiss her lips could give. It’s like he is in a trance and could be seeing anything. She is floating in his view, like a spider ready to jump on its prey, and inject venom. Granting death instead of giving love.

Back into reality and the man picks up his briefcase from the ground, his umbrella that will kill him if the snow becomes struck by lightning. He goes to open it but delays, his own aeroplane flight cancelled. The girl teasing him as her cheeks blush red, wearing blood for harrowing lipstick. The man forgetting what he was about to do, gaining amnesia when he loses his IQ on the final question. The girl points to her eyes like a gun, the pupils in his eyes the bullets, that will make him become blind. She is trying to say that she is a little sad, unspoken words on a letter that left the bottle that sailed.

The man opens his briefcase, revealing no flowers in a vase. The contests spoken, the ways of communication broken. The man has a cue card and red chalk. The briefcase crashing to the ground, the curse of bad luck will find him. Writing his words on a cue card, he doesn’t show her when he is finished. He wants to see the freedom in her eyes as they reveal a connection. A few moments more he will hide what he wrote, so the girl reveals her hands all over the place. She is being frustrated, so the man will reveal what he wrote for her eyes. He will reveal the words on the cue card, a silent game of hangman.


Were you trying to tell me that you cannot speak? Cannot hear? This night already has sky departing clouds above this light… Can you understand what I write?

The girl nods her head, a head knocking toy in a limited colour. She points to the paper and pen, wanting to write her lines for detention. The man will give them to the girl. She will throw them away, a poor flag for surrender when combined together.


I was trying to tell you that I can hear you. I can speak. I can fully understand you.

The man watches the girl as she points to her mouth and shakes her head, the refusal of a kiss when the lips of the sky belong to a rapist. The girl points to her ears and shakes her head, and while she is in the movie of when her language is silent, she still obtained the sixth sense of hearing. The girl will point to her eyes and nods, the only colour in a silent film. The night getting so late, the fog is getting scarier when romance is still out after curfew. The girl pointing to the lamppost and to the ground, the fruit that grows from the poisonous apple of love. Already too late for a date, leaving this one person to be abducted by aliens. The man believes that he understands.


Why do you point like a knife when you can speak words that are alive as you? I do have something to ask you.

Leaving what he wants to ask on a cliff-hanger, the fucking parasite that writes a song lyric as a disease. The girl wants him to hurry up or she will murder his children instead. A rainbow smile on his face becoming the sad make up of a clown. The girl thinking about this night, she will forget about the day tomorrow. His lips slowly moving, adapting to the glue that closed them. The night is coming to an end, and he will end it politely.


Would you like to meet here again tomorrow night?

The girl points to the lamppost one more time, standing under the light a poetic crime. His words showing the imagery of a dark gothic romance. He has never revealed if he is a husband or father. The darkness will sense if he is hiding something, a faithful lie detector.


The only light is on because you stand near it…

The girl has the biggest smile in the world of her face, cheeks blooming like roses that remain artificial. The man reaches out to touch her face with his fingertips, stopping before he can touch washed velvet skin. Without words he walks away from the girl, the fog consuming him as its meal was seven minutes late. No shadows to enter the light outside, hope faded away with her smile, the puppet with the wooden face, crying without human tears.

Valentine’s Day

The night returns to bring with it Valentine’s Day. The night where people see it as the most romantic. It is not romantic because the day is forced. It’s like love has been turned into rape. The same presence and the same footsteps arrive, looking into the night of the moon an enemy. He cannot see the compass, sailing in a pond of piranhas, rather than the glass bowl of water with a goldfish. The girl has arrived behind him where he is blind, and not attracting his attention. She blows the back of his hair, the cold presence of the air.

The man turns around, the girl found, happiness shining in the light above ground. He gives her some flowers, and she takes them as the water that gave them life. Receiving the flowers, complete bliss. She places them warm to her heart, and they look beautiful. She is happy he made the effort, and he may have a chance. The man didn’t bring his briefcase tonight.


I wanted to get you something pretty. Do you find them beautiful?

The girl is blushing, smelling the scent into the air that is crushing. Smelling the flowers again, she nods her head unanimously, winning the fight. The darkness feeling abusive as it is roaring with thunder. It can sense that the man is hiding something under his sleeve, cheating at a game of poker. The darkness is right because before this meeting, the man laid an undressed and naked needle of heroin into the bed of his veins. She turns around to tell the thunder to hush, because she is in the middle of another blush.


The flowers aren’t as beautiful as you. I hope you can be the light I only need to find my way home tonight. I will steal the light from the lamppost and give it all to you.

The girl points to the sky, dark with a shade of dye. The moon has broken through the fog, the butterfly and the frog. Disturbing that he never gives her a chance to answer, the wind of the night has gone. Tonight, he is acting like the creep who hide in a dark alley. The thunder is roaring like a warning, the lion threatening the hyena.


You stand at your most beautiful. Would you allow me to kiss you under this beautiful dark moon?


I have to leave now, now that I have found something. I will be under the light of this lamppost on the night of Valentine’s Day next year. I hope you can return to me then. This time it will be worth it…

The man delays writing words to speak, his love letter for nobody. He walks out of the light, steering his ship into the rocks, every passenger killed. He doesn’t look behind him, the mirror in front contains no reflection. The light from the lamppost goes out, the world is now without power.

Silent as a shadow, the man walks back to underneath the lamppost, and the light comes on again. Walking up right before her haunting presence, making sure that his shadow, will capture her essence. She will look to the ground and only see the blindness of concrete. Turning around to see him, the light fatigues dim. He will point to her eyes, because it looks like she has been crying, not sure if the man would come back into the light to be with her. She points to her eyes and nods her head, revealing she was sad because he left the light, and the light from the lamppost went out, a candle leaving her birthday.


It looks like you have been crying. I’m sorry if I left the light and covered you in darkness. I just want you, and to see your fucking beautiful face again. Smile the most on Valentine’s Day when you are at your most beautiful. Under this light I have found this love, will you allow me to kiss you?

The girl puts a hand over her mouth, as the man goes to put his arms around her and moves forward for the kiss, the lust of a ghost is cold. Opening his eyes, he wants to see her face as they kiss. Like the force of a tornado, he approaches her, and he walks through her like she isn’t air, blood or water. When he turns around the flowers are floating away like a balloon in dead air. She enters his body and through marriage they share the same surname. In total control of him she extends out his left hand, and the flowers will float until that hand reaches them. The flowers turn into a saw, and it slowly begins to cut off his hand. Hanging off slowly like something certain to fall from a height, the flowers have been decapitated.

In control of him, she extends out his right hand, and a knife will magically appear. The knife will walk down his chest like it is the first person to walk the moon. Planting a flag on his stomach, the knife will slowly cut, and the people of blood have now fled. The blood is running down to the ground like a waterfall that has been beaten to death. It is glorious and delicious like a horrific meal. The girl, who is has always been a ghost, will stab him in his back until he is paralyzed. He is standing on both feet and him arms spread like he is a scarecrow that has come home for harvest season. A lot of his blood is leaving his body, the air inside a balloon. He cannot move because the ghost has possessed him.

The girl uses the knife to cut out his intestines in glorious detail. Like food being cooked ready to come out of the oven, it makes the correct portion as the dangle onto the ground like unused spaghetti. His body is bleeding magnificently, building him as a deranged sinister Christmas tree.

He is stood like a paralyzed tree waiting for a coma to pronounce him dead. The other lampposts that are close keep their light off because this is a crime when you do not turn the lights on. Like a surgeon she will cleanly cut off his legs and arms, the thorns removed the rose. Cutting off his head cleanly, the rose dies without water. The blade disappears, and the girl is standing in the disease of sex that everyone fears. His mutilation is everywhere, and the girl has a smile on her face. Luckily the man lives locally, so he doesn’t have to take the long way home.


When you took advantage of me, you muted my voice and silenced my hearing. I couldn’t scream, and I couldn’t hear anyone trying to help me. You left me all those years ago. You left me a rape victim and a murder victim all of those years ago. I only ever wanted your silent passion. You are the one responsible for what happened to me…

She pushes the body parts and intestines from the man into the sea, and his blood has disappeared as he kindly donated it to mother earth. Waiting for someone else before the night and she will disappear, she will cry tears from the sky. Breaking aeroplane windows, her tears will fall like razorblades. She is crying and a shadow will enter the light, a chance of love tonight.


It looks like you have been stood up miss. Let me look at your face. So beautiful, yet you cry because some fucking bastard left you standing because his heart was for someone else. Your beauty flies like a kite, and if it were to rain, I would be your umbrella…

A kind stranger whose words are like flawless pieces of art. Lifting her hands up, the stranger will fly like a kite in the air. The knife appears and slices him from throat to sternum. She will make an umbrella appear over her head to keep her dry from his pouring blood and body parts. His body will float into the sea like it is being haunted, and his blood will disappear like a violent magic trick. The umbrella she uses, once belonged to Mary Poppins. The night of Valentine will disappear along with the girl.

Halloween Night

The next year comes and a young boy is in the front room alone, watching a horror film that is on TV. The screen is showing the lamppost with the light on, the fog and the darkened black skies have come back also. The girl appears, but she is about the same age as the boy this time, and she is also not crying. Silent moments pass, and her eyes become blacker. She places both hands out of the TV screen, and onto the side of the TV. She is like a spider that has become the stuck prey in her own web.

She is stuck trying to crawl out, so the boy will try to help her escape. As he tries to grab the girl’s hand, his hand goes through cold air. She crawls out of the TV, and a fog is consuming the room, living inside a gas chambre without a mask. The bedrooms upstairs are empty. The kitchen and all of the other rooms are empty. Only the glasshouse has people that are paying rent, and they are called flowers.

The fog has disappeared with the girl and the boy. The TV is turned off. The walls and the wallpaper are as cold as the stone that built them. The spirit of Halloween gone for this year, for people don’t cherish it anymore. No sinister music or a heart thumping in fear, the living room just left with a note from the boy, written on a ghostly cue card.


I’ve gone out on a date…

Later in the night the boy’s parents come into the front room, and switch on the TV as they promised each other their love while a horror film was premiering tonight. The scene shows the lamppost with the light on, and the young boy is turning around to see the girl. the parents not taking notice of the film, the boy is banging on the screen, only to give the mirror a broken reflection of himself. The girl continues to taunt him by staring at him, and he cannot run out of the light, because the moon will give him nightmares. The fog surrounds, a whirlwind dance of smoke, the benefits of smoking cigarettes.

He cannot escape, and the girl is getting him into shape. The fog will get lighter, and it shows that the boy cannot move. He is wooden still and the girl has paralyzed his body, a failed exorcism. Giving him a kiss, his heart is turning to stone, and his breathing has become venomous. Venom stolen from the snake. The girl enters his body, and the lamppost light goes out. The lights out forever, the darkness and all shadows are bound. The fog has gone, so a normal night is the only survivor. The parents of the boy, missing the movie so that they can have sex instead. If she becomes pregnant, maybe in several years’ time, the sequel will also be released on Halloween…

The Silent Passion © 2021 Dexter Angelus Draven. All rights reserved.

Submitted: October 31, 2021

© Copyright 2021 TheGothicSinner. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:



The use of cue cards in your stories really adds a unique touch to them! As dark as it was, I loved that the girl was finally able to get her revenge on the man after all those years. Most people picture happiness on Valentine's Day, but I like how this shows that there can be a dark side to it, and it's not always romantic. Great job as always! :)

Sun, November 7th, 2021 1:27am


I won't stop using cue cards. They won't be in every story, but I think I was the first person to ever use them in any form of story, novel etc, so I need to keep exploring using them, because the atmosphere they give is like no other. I truly think they give something that cannot be replicated when using proper language. The girl is like an urban legend, where she appears at the same dates every year, just to seek revenge on any man she feels did her wrong. There is always a dark side to everything, especially Valentine's Day. Thanks for reading this. More stories with cue cards coming soon :)

Mon, November 8th, 2021 1:53pm

Facebook Comments

More Other Short Stories

Other Content by TheGothicSinner

Short Story / Other

Short Story / Other