The room was a blur, she could no longer feel the
floor beneath her feet, and suddenly the ground rose to meet her, face first.
The hard impact barely registered and the voices of Matteo, Soborgne, Imre, and
Celeste were only shushed mumblings to her.
The cold marble felt good. She wanted to lie there and
die. Her entire body felt as if it were on fire. She did not want to move from
the chilly embrace of the smooth stone. Her eyes were open, but unfocused. She
could not see anything clearly except a statue sitting in the far recess of the
room. Something about the statue made it different from the others.
She felt gentle hands touching her body. They were
lifting her from the floor. She tried to resist but she didn’t have the
strength. As they moved her, she craned her head so as not to lose sight of the
strange form. The others carefully lowered her onto a lounge chair near the
pool. The agitating voices all around her were breaking through, but the fire
was ascending. Her body no longer burned. A deadened feeling crept through her
limbs.
She didn’t want to come back, she like it there where
she was numb. In the place where she lingered there was no fear and no pain.
Celeste’s musical voice was the first to filter through the haze with any
clarity. “You mean she has not fed from her first human? Matteo, you know how
dangerous that could be.” The voice was stern and admonishing.
“She has been doing well on the stored blood. I
thought only to get her here and then to worry about the rest. I fear I was
gravely wrong.” Matteo was scaring her. Why was he talking about her as if she
wasn’t there?
Then she could hear Soborgne’s strong voice. Jenda was
no longer afraid. Soborgne would care for her. She could slip back into the
haze and not have to worry. The words were not important. She wouldn’t hear
them; she would just stay away for a while where it would be safe.
She closed her eyes and relaxed her body into the
lounge chair. The overstuffed cushions hugged her closely. In her mind, she
still saw the statue. No, it wasn’t like any other in the room. Obviously not
marble, Jenda wondered if it were bronze. Obviously an ancient piece, it was
much older than the marble statues were.
The sculpture was of a man and woman. The man held the
woman to him in a firm and loving embrace, one arm encircling her waist and the
other holding the woman’s hand. Her naked bosom was pressed tightly to his
equally bare chest, her chin rested in the crook of his neck, and her fingers
rested beside her cheek. He held his face pressed close to hers, his lips
brushing the lobe of her ear, and his eyes cast upon the beautiful curve of her
neck.
On the top half, they looked like lovers embracing
passionately, but something tainted the image. Below their waists, they lacked
human limbs. Their entwining bodies resembled the trunk of an ancient tree
instead. The twisted and gnarled shape trapped the lovers together for
eternity. The man’s face held a hint of sadness. The tension in the woman’s
body was real. Welded together and rooted deep into the earth, they would
remain forever. Their only comfort was being together in this torturous
marriage of human flesh and spirit wood.
She opened her eyes and the statue remained the same
as she saw it in her mind. She could see every line, every nook so clearly. The
pain and beauty reverberated through her very soul. She wondered to herself who
they were. She wanted to know why. She longed to know them. She wished to
enable them to embrace each other at will instead of as a punishment forced
upon them by some masterful artisan.
As if the thought awakened the bodies beneath the
bronze, the woman’s head slowly began to move. She turned her face from her
lover’s shoulder towards Jenda. The bronze began to melt away, streaking from
her hair and face. Her hair was raven black beneath the lingering weight of the
metal, her skin olive in tone, and her eyes were so familiar. The thought shot
through Jenda like a bullet from a gun. The woman’s eyes were exactly the shape
and color of Soborgne’s. The statue smiled at Jenda and turned back to her
lover. The bronze snaked up and reclaimed her beautiful face. A shame to watch
it harden over the soft flesh, to see it silence those full lips and seal shut
those entrancing eyes.
About the Author:
Catherine Stovall is the author of The Requiem of Humanity Series and the short story Fearful Day. Catherine received her Associates of Science from Colorado Technical University. After working in the Criminal Justice field for several years, she has decided to dedicate her life to her true passion, creating captivating works of fiction. She lives in Southeast Missouri with her husband, three children, and pets.
Website: www.catherinestovall.webs.com
Facebook Fan Page: https://www.facebook.com/groups/catherinestovall/
Twitter: @CathStovall
Stolen, Reborn, and Fearful Day on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Catherine-Stovall/e/B005LET560/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Book Giveaway
Catherine Stovall is the author of The Requiem of Humanity Series and the short story Fearful Day. Catherine received her Associates of Science from Colorado Technical University. After working in the Criminal Justice field for several years, she has decided to dedicate her life to her true passion, creating captivating works of fiction. She lives in Southeast Missouri with her husband, three children, and pets.
Website: www.catherinestovall.webs.com
Facebook Fan Page: https://www.facebook.com/groups/catherinestovall/
Twitter: @CathStovall
Stolen, Reborn, and Fearful Day on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Catherine-Stovall/e/B005LET560/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
