A Lesson in Love and Death: A Darkly Humorous, Slow Burn, Dark Academia Gothic Romance (Endymion College Book 1) by W. H. Lockwood

Author:W. H. Lockwood [Lockwood, W. H.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Castlefield Press
Published: 2022-09-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

A Problem

Anna, like the other students in the lecture theatre, did not sit front and centre this time. She had no desire to be acknowledged or talked to by anyone, the forced socialisation of the past few days beginning to weigh heavily on one who was usually introverted. Not to mention the ghost, the demon, and the bizarre sex dream situation.

She chose a seat towards the back, near the far end of a central row, a few seats away from the aisle. The theatre soon filled up, and she was surrounded by students on either side, though she successfully spurned any possible advances of friendship by burying herself in a book with a scowl on her face.

The lecturer arrived. She was a striking woman, mid-forties perhaps. Quite beautiful. She introduced herself, welcomed them to the course, and began her oration on Henri Fuseli.

Indeed, he was a minister. He was of the type that was allowed to marry. Even so, as a young man, he had fallen hard for a woman who did not return his affection, and he had become obsessed with her. This adoration influenced his art, creating a body of work sexually charged with his longing for a person he could never have.

The lights dimmed, and the lecturer turned on a screen. Up sprung The Nightmare by Henri Fuseli.

Anna was glad of the darkness, as she blushed at the remembrance of her dream of Eve, the tense confines of his apartment yesterday, her downright carnal thoughts of him.

And her rejection.

As though she could forget that.

The lecturer described in thorough terms Anna’s own understanding of The Nightmare—that the woman on the screen writhed in erotic ecstasy, dreaming of her own beloved.

“But,” the lecturer continued, “we see here the beginning of a nightmare, represented by this, well, mare. Things are not as they appear. This perfect vision of happiness is going to be derailed before the climax. Here lies the promise of a beautiful sexual experience with her lover, but before it can be realised, with the intrusion of another man, the dream turns into a nightmare.”

Anna straightened in her chair, the similarities between the painting and her own nightmare getting a little too close for comfort.

“This demon that sits on her chest is an incubus. It’s a demon that comes in the night, follows her breath as she dreams of her lover, absorbs her sexual energy, and replaces it with nightmares.”

Already frightened, growing pale, she became vaguely conscious of a feeling of being watched in the dark theatre.

“The incubus will come to her every night, filling her mind with passionate visions, sleeping with her over and over, drawing away all her energy, leaving her spent, exhausted, eventually wasting away to nothing.”

Listening intently, but increasingly scared and sickened, Anna reluctantly scanned the room, the backs of heads bathed in darkness, and only in her second search of the area did she see the small white face at the base of the stairs, watching her.

It was the face of the child that haunted their apartment.

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