Requiem of Humanity: Book Two (Excerpt from Reborn by Catherine Stovall)

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.

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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

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