9 Tales Told in the Dark 10 by 9 Tales Told in the Dark

Author:9 Tales Told in the Dark [Dark, 9 Tales Told in the]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bride of Chaos
Published: 2016-02-21T23:00:00+00:00

Denise opened her eyes. She looked at her palms. By the flickering light of the torches, she saw that her open hands were now stained deep red, as if they were both severely sunburned.

Groggily, she stood up and leaned on the chair for support. Had she fallen asleep? Dizzy, her eyes took a moment before they could focus on the two torches, which were creating shadows on the stone walls. Once she felt her head was clear, she looked around but Michail and Dorothea and her Aunt were gone.

“Hello?” She turned to her left toward the doorway but something wasn’t right. Alarmed, she touched the wall where she had entered but the stone was now solid. The doorway had vanished. Impossible. Her head began to ache; what was happening to her? Was she losing her mind? She made her way back to the chairs. Only one remained. Hadn’t there been three chairs? She started to tremble and peered into the darkness, afraid of all that was happening to her. She rubbed her arms against her shoulders to try and ward off the creeping chill in the cave.

At the foot of the chair she noticed there was a coffin, but it was closed with dust and debris on top. Where had it come from? At the base of the casket was the large container that Michail had produced earlier. Denise pulled one of the torches free and held it close to the jar. Dozens—hundreds?—of red handprints had stained it over many years or decades, or even further back in time than she wanted to acknowledge. The container almost appeared to be solid red but the individual handprints could still be discerned

Your hands are willing.

Denise looked at her left hand, illuminated by the torch. It was blood red.

She heard a rustling impatience in the darkness. The presence was watching her, eager to make an attempt at possessing whatever remained in the coffin before her. The thought flickered dully in her mind: If it is a revenant, I will have to act quickly, destroy it immediately.

The next instant, it felt like she had just been plugged into something and was being controlled by an unseen intelligence. Everything she did was done automatically. Taking no thought to what she was doing, Denise stuck the torch between two rocks near the coffin. She brushed the dirt off the top and wondered again how the casket had been placed there. Once the surface was clean, she grabbed hold of the lid with both hands and opened the coffin.

Overhead, she heard a flutter as the darkness gathered itself in anticipation.

By the light of the torch she looked at the contents.

Then she put her hands on the pot and like an old song lyric she suddenly recalled, she began to chant.

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