Dying and Dead

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
A mysterious tale brings Logan Strauss' curiosity to a graveyard.
Cover from Pixabay

Submitted: August 27, 2015

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Submitted: August 27, 2015

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Shadows loomed and danced over graves, the wind whistled through the trees and the crispy, golden leaves rustled on the ground. Up high in the sky, a full moon shone brightly over the graveyard, but not a star twinkled. Animals rushed to shelter as dark clouds were drawing increasingly near, covering the silver moon. No animal made a sound. However big crows with sharp beaks screeched as they gripped on thick branches, their moves were stiff as they scanned the horizon.

An almost glowing white figure stood silent on a small hill, her long jet-black hair floating rhythmically with the cool breeze. She was slim and tall, with skin as smooth as silk. Her dress, as white as snow, flapped gently against her legs, covering her bare feet. Looking closer, you could see unblinking eyes, as red as a ruby soaked in blood. She looked young with pale skin and her looks were bewitching. She was mysterious and came every day at dusk, to then leave early at the first light of dawn for over hundreds of years. Even when the drizzling of the rain came she didn't move. When the rain was heavily falling, she didn't flinch. She just gazed, expressionless at the graveyard. Waiting. Suddenly she jolted, her neck cracking as her head turned to see where the smell of flesh came from, her dead looking eyes searching.

A trembling person was crouching behind a bush, seeing that she saw them, they slowly and cautiously stood up, heart thumping, blood rushing, nervousness gnawing. It was a teenage boy, athletic and healthy with dirty blond hair and stormy grey eyes. He was wearing a plain grey t-shirt with baggy blue jeans and track shoes. He heard about the tale and wanted to see for himself the truth, and the truth was looking right at him, piercing through his skull. The silhouette stood still for a moment, blinked slowly, then patiently and gracefully walked towards him, licking her dark purple smiling lips with amusement and joy, a light, quiet but chilling laugh escaped her mouth, her almond shaped eyes locked on his, a doom to come.

Logan Strauss turned and sprinted toward the nearby woods, his athletic legs carrying him fast,  away from the graveyard, away from her. But even though she was walking with that sickening smile she was gaining on him. After all she wasn’t human, not even close. Morticia was her name and she preyed on souls. All around, people tried to capture her, stop her and finish her for once and for all, but the crimson blood that was found in the graveyard the next day was not hers and there was no trace of the bodies. Over time, the graveyard became a forbidden place and only a fool would go there, this time it was Logan.

As he ran desperately for cover, an unbearable stitch rose in his sides, slowing him down. The mud, up to his ankles impeded his strides as well. He turned around to see where she was. Morticia was still walking behind, her dress staying spotless in the mud and rain, like an invisible shield was covering her. Around her, it seemed like life had evaporated from everything, however Logan's heart was beating, but he wished it wasn't. It was him against Morticia and how it would end was bloody and inevitable but Logan didn't want to die at seventeen, it was just too soon. He turned around and continued running, trying to steady his breathing but it was too hard and his body was aching with pain. He had to stop and rest, but where? No time to think just time to act before she was on his heels, ready for the kill. Quickly he ran behind a thick, tall tree with not many leaves covering it. There was a small pit with rain water at the bottom and he crouched in it, splashing mud on his pants, frantically catching his breath, but careful not to make too much audible noise. His hands were shaking and he was slightly dizzy. His eyes were unable to focus on anything. His memories crashed back to him like a waterfall, about Morticia. Her background was blurry but she had been falsely accused of something and had faced a painful death. Snapping back to reality, he tried to calm down and carefully rose up searching for Morticia, but she seemed to have vanished. Had she given up? His hopes went down like a stone and he felt his stomach sink. He heard a sly chuckle dangerously close to his ear and then it all went black into oblivion.

It was pitch black when he woke up and it took time to adjust to the darkness surrounding him. Logan was lying in a cold, damp, unrecognizable place. It was still night outside but the rain had passed away, leaving a sky full of radiant stars and a full shining moon, sending shadows onto the ground. He tried to sit up but a migraine was restricting his action and not letting him think straight. Holding his head in his hands, he waited patiently until it went away and once again looked around, this time his eyesight was letting him see more details. He was in a large cave but the ceiling was low. Next to him was a puddle full of clear water, his reflection showing. He saw his ear had been wounded and he realized he had been too preoccupied by his surroundings to notice the pain. He tried to stand up but it was no use.
"I see you have awoken," whispered a voice behind him. Hastily, he turned around and sat paralyzed in front of an almost glowing white figure. Morticia looked even more stunning up close, but especially more intimidating.
"Don't eat me!" pleaded Logan, trying desperately to stand to defend himself, but all his energy was drained. He feared the worse.
She chuckled, amused by his naivety:
"I cannot eat something that is already dead."

 


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