
Where laughter once danced like sunlight on rippling streams, in the village of Aldergrove, the air now thickens with dread, an invisible fog clinging to the skin, as shadows stretch long over barren fields. They had gathered in the square, the villagers' faces drawn tight, wreathed in the desperation of their choice. Bound in flames, Maelis stood, her eyes two blazing stars against the twilight of their souls, a fierce fire that spoke of vengeance and ancient knowledge. Look upon me, she cried, her voice a crackling thunder, the wind carrying her words, a curse whispered into the night. They averted their gaze, shame and fear dancing in their hearts, a symphony of betrayal echoing in the hollow spaces between them. The pyre crackled, wood splintering, flames licking the sky, devouring the last remnants of mercy; and as sparks flew upward, they twisted into the very fabric of their fate, one woven with threads of regret. Days slipped by, the sun hung heavy and indifferent, its light failing to break through the shroud that enveloped their once-verdant fields. Crops withered, the earth lay cracked and barren, while livestock, once a bounty of life, became mere shadows of hunger, their eyes reflecting the hollowness that gnawed at the villagers’ bellies. Desperation turned their whispers into a cacophony of blame, Look to her, they murmured, pointing fingers at the ashes, the remnants of the woman they had scorned, the witch they had sacrificed to cleanse their sins. Yet her curse, like a noose, tightened around their throats, choking the breath from their lives. Winter arrived, blanketing Aldergrove in a shroud of white, each flake a reminder of the warmth they had relinquished, of the sweetness of summer fruits that now lay just beyond reach. They huddled in silence, the embers of their community snuffed out, the ghosts of their laughter lost in the howling wind. Then, their weakened bodies succumbed to the virus. One by one, they fell, the weight of their choice heavy, their bodies mere husks, lost in the ruins of their lives. And as the last breath escaped, a bitter thought lingered, an echo of Maelis’s voice; a haunting reminder that they had not escaped, but instead, had written themselves into her curse’s structure; their sorrow and ashes settling softly into the earth.
Author’s Note
Check out other Halloween/horror-themed posts at the Halloween link
My new book, The Edges, is now available in digital and paperback formats
Upcoming…
A ghostly haiku chain:
Phantom Lover, 26 October 2024
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Loved the imagery in this. Ideal tale for this season.