Ashes and Roses
As curious as it was, the twin siblings sat in a delighted silence amongst the graves, in the eerie twilight. A small metal table held up a plethora of sweets and various English teas.
They took petty sips of their warm beverage—the tea a warm beacon in the contrary chill of October.
A gloom drifted over to the siblings as soft and subtle as a butterfly, however the twins noticed it immediately. Simultaneously tilting their heads to the right, they see a small girl, looking around the age of nine, and dressed in the Victorian clothes that they were so familiar with. Her pale skin glistened in the growing moonlight, as she beckoned to the children, blatantly hinting that they should leave their quaint graveyard picnic behind, in the fading day.
Lucian and Lucinda stood without exchanging second glances to the girl but to each other, the knowledge reflected in their gazes. They understood what this meant.
The girl was a messenger from the dead, her innocence allowing her to travel between both worlds. And she was there to deliver what would be the end of the innocence for one— or both of the siblings. But the only way for them to get the message of change was if they received it of their own volition.
Silently they left the cemetery.
The girl’s small shiny shoes scarcely touched the ground as she graced forward, her hair billowing out such as a wind would.
The twins hurried behind her, dodging gravestones, until they reached the rusted gate declaring the end of the cemetery and the beginning of dark cobblestone road that led to there.
The girl danced behind a corner, Lucian and Lucinda following eagerly.
The road curved up a hill and after a short cut between the long dead woods, they arrived at the old chateau that repeatedly appeared in their dreams.
The building was shrouded in mystery to the children, and the dark, ash stained walls was a constant source of wonder to them.
A sadistic grin crept across Lucian’s face when he saw the result of the fire. He blinked, the dark feeling disappearing instantly. He frowned and kept walking with his sister.
The pale girl flitted behind the parting, majestic cherry-wood doors. An uncanny dull light shone from inside of the building, illuminating their path.
With haste, the siblings stepped into the doors, the interior revealed to them.
The room was a large foyer with huge stairs going up on either side. A faded crimson carpet flowed through the center of the foyer, splitting into 5 sections. Old photographs depicted a family. But the color was long since fallen from grace being vague; therefore the twins couldn’t make out who was in the picture. The once elegant vases were now the center of decay, long dead roses spouting from the mouth of them. The twins walked carefully avoiding broken glass from getting in between their shoes and their spats.
This was where they needed to be. This is where their lives would change…
It took some time, filing between all types of gloomy, ominous rooms. But after a while they realized that they were separated from each other, alone in the huge house that led them another blank wall; another empty room, another half-burned photograph; more and more of nothing.
Lucian turned in circles looking for his sister in the diffused light that crept in through the shattered windows, but could not find her. He instead found himself in a small theater room, made for children. He climbed up onto the old stage, the floor creaking beneath his weary feet, whispers echoing from all around him.
From the center of the stage lay a single rose it’s once vibrant petals covered with achromatic dust and ash. The grim lullaby: “Ring around the Rosie” Rang true in his head, a memory of what his mother used to sing to him, laying a rose across his bed while he slept.
Mesmerized by its peculiar beauty, he bent down to pluck it from the ground…
…And realized that the rose held all of his memories, lost to him after the tragic fire. The moment he touched it, he became inundated with thoughts, feelings, and emotions all accompanied with the rose; with the house.
As the last throb of sensations dulled, he stood blinking with new knowledge.
Lucian had done something very evil, and he could no longer shun it from his memories, deny its truth. He had purposely killed his parents in the fire. He hated them with every fiber of his being, and wanted them dead... and after their last screams died away in the fire, he first experienced a twisted joy—and elation of their death, but it soon became guilt, and the guilt and pain consumed him until he could no longer take it and just…forgot.
But he knew the truth, now…
…May God have mercy on his soul…
Emperor of shadows
· Tue Jan 12, 2010 @ 05:20am · 4 Comments