Imagine Tales

Inside a chest, enclosed in the dark oak of memories a solitary feeling scuttles around in the dark, seeking, knowing once it had been so much more. It has tried to escape, sneaking through cracks. It hears its name whispered across the air, sometimes it recognises the voice and other times it does not. But the black tar that lines the lid stings and it goes back to resting in the darkest corner.

The man looks down upon this chest, small and heavy. The key in his hand, worn down by the years since it had last been used. The surface of the chest is old and stained, it released a stench of fear and regret as he pulled out from the ground that he had buried it in so long ago. The handles slippery with the vile black substance the chest secreted. He had become angry with it, as he pulled it from its grave. His hands slipped and the dirt kept falling, covering the chest. The labour was painful and tiring, but he knew the chest and his buried emotions must be exhumed.

I knew today was going to be a strange day before I even woke up. As I lay in the comfort of my own bed, the duvet just a little too warm for this time of year. Its covering creating a blanket of sweat and anxiety dreams. By the time I had jumped out of bed, the glowing red numbers screaming at me ‘I was late’, the dream had dissipated into the ether of my subconscious. Non-existent memories fading beyond my grasp. I left my front door in a rushed panic, shoving earphones into ears and reminding myself as I locked the door that I was locking the door; trust me, it saves time later. At which point I thought had I locked the back window? So I ran round the back of the flats to check I had. It was then I saw it. Well actually it was more I ran into it.

As I lay on the damp gravel my head hurting from the impact, I tried to focus on the unexpected object that manipulated the energy of my forward motion into blunt force trauma. As the information from each eye began to merge again, I was able to tell that it was tall, very tall and shiny, very shiny. The morning sun reflected brilliantly off the object and added to my overall confusion and inability to comprehend what on earth was going on with my surroundings in this particular moment of my life. All I could hear was the reverberating sound of ‘Klaatuuuuu’ as the object that had caused my current state shared my kinetic energy.

With almost directed like timing a cloud drifted across the path of the suns rays as the metallic noise faded and seem to elongate the last note into a surreal state inducing tone. The light diminished bringing a strange filter across the scene. There it stood before me, dominating everything that surrounded it. I could feel the terror of its overbearing power as I looked upon it. Its cold lifeless eyes gazed upon the world around it with contempt. I watched as metallic doors began to open upon its chest and an incredible heat began to emanate from the giant monstrosity. The sound of a machinery powering up began as the doors swung outward, its pitch increasing with each moment. A simple cannon extended outwards supported by a ribcage like metal structure. The pitch continued to increase to painful levels, I clasped my hands over my ears as I screamed in pain.

Sparks began to erupt from around the cannon as if the casing was unable to contain the wild charge of energy. As each spark hit the ground around me, flames erupted with ferocious heat. It burned anything it made contact with, every tree and bush became a mass of flame. I watched as the side of my flat melted away into nothing, my bathroom exposed and burning. With the supporting wall destroyed the flat above collapsed with an avalanche of dust and rubble providing more fuel to the unnatural fire. How I was still alive I can not explain, but I could also see no escape as fences, houses and cars burned around me. The whistling of the flying sparks became a percussion like addition to the now unbearable torrent of noise from the charging energy and the raging fires. Suddenly it went silent.

Time slowed as I looked up at the weapon, the last few sparks flew over my head at the speed of a bumble bee. The flickering flames moved in precise and slow movements like some strange but beautiful dance of mass destruction. I could feel an out of place sense of peace and wonderment of the world around me for what seemed like minutes, but the reality must have been less than a second. The sparks had stopped and the cavity of the metal monster pulsed with an fiery red glow. Something in the air changed and the cannon fired, a savage unearthly heat ray.

The wind blew across the moors, ancient, unrelenting and brutal. It battered against the rocks, a thousand voices screaming for escape. Her hair embraced these screams, the strands rising and sinking in pitch. It whipped across her face, hiding her eyes from the world, a world that had burned her too many times. The final time just passed, something that was hers and hers alone had turned, leaving scars that no surgeon or healer could hide.

She had tried many paths, they all ended in disappointment, revealing shallow depths and deceptive masks. One by one fragile supports gave way until nothing mattered anymore. It was only her internal desire for survival that kept her with a roof over her head and food on her plate. Many she knew would be grateful for those things, but deep down for her there was a dark void and she wanted it filled.

Every night, that one sensation plagued her whilst she slept and more so when she could not. Often she would try to fill that void with partners, some good, some bad, but most indifferent. Whilst it made the night more bearable and often fulfilling, it only made her days more complex and false. That was until she met her, she had met the witch, she had met Lilith.

When she first met her the name ‘witch’ sounded absurd. But curiosity grabbed her, slowly turning to desire for Lilith. As she fell deeper into Liliths world, the word ‘witch’ seemed less absurd. It grew with power, seduction and offered dark promises of a purpose. She offered her soul to Lilith and with it learned to harness her own power. A power that in the years past sat dormant, whispering words that once unsettled her. Now she knew that they were words of comfort, something inside  more than life could ever offer.

She had not known the price it would cost her and how the word ‘witch’ was as damned as it was powerful. Fear had burned Lilith, hate and anger of those she once called friends had lit the bonfire. Tied to a stake, Lilith had burned and fell as ash in front of her. As her tears fell, she ran. She had kept running and now she was here, at the rocks of the western moors. Lightning flared overhead, thunder shook the ground beneath her bare feet. The voices in the wind screamed louder, words of revenge, words of reckoning. They would soon find out how wicked she could be.