Ghastly~The Maiden of Dawn

[Vyvian Blackthorne]

Grotesque feelings overcome him, his soul such an indecent one. As his eyes view the dead world around him; he lay in the coffin-the tomb-to which he had always rested in. The world around him, still, forevermore dead. He embraced his fears, for he knew that life, joy, and happiness toward the otuside world would all eventually come to an ending, a sorrowful, bleak, ending. How it would end, he could only ponder...his mind, wondering of what the world was to be become-wondering what would become of him. Markings and symbols plagued throughout the century; the blood-smeared tears from the victims he'd drained-even took notice in the tomb to which he rested. A spider sprouting only what seemed to be a small web, it barely moving inches-perhaps aware of the horrors to become of the world on the following day.
He spoke, 'Perhaps, I should do something...perhaps they could be warned...perhaps the hope for human surivial is still in order...' yet the words of what seemed to be reason in a cruel justice only echoed into a ghastly fog.
Moving toward his right, the creature vaguely sewing a web-he noticed, this was his only advocate to which he could speak. ‘Dearest friend, I ask you in the slightest, and lowest of whim, though perhaps I should save the humans?’
It did not answer. Ghoulishly gazing at the small creature still, he knew the only answer it could ever give him was to sew a message-or indicate something with body language. And such, an event never occurred. Thus, he interrupted the answer of the Maiden’s question.
In the gothic castle he still dreamt, though it was the night he was so less active, nothing more to do and nothing more to say…to speak, to create, to love…to express…the claw of the night eased and cut open his flesh before such an event would happen in his reality. He dreamt.
The beautiful Gothic castle to which he resided was still in its location, yet a woman in the midst of the corridor appeared. She was draped lovingly in black, her hair standing up and curled in the finest of arts. She held in her arms what appeared to be an acoustic instrument; it played such an eerie tune. A death-embracing tune, such words he could only describe by letting maggots crawl down his spine, feasting open his internal bones.
She played such a melancholy tune; and yet, there was more-an orchestra along side her, playing the acoustic and eerie tunes with their instruments, their arts. Bats flew down from the ceiling; aside the female figure stood a grotesque, hairless being, nor male or female for he was nude with the exception of torn clothes, containing both sexual organs-with his eyes as black as Death’s cloak. And, in such a morbid, hauntingly beautiful moment (o how he loved it all) the figure spoke, no he sang. He sang such a beautiful, dark and disturbingly enchanting hymn of sorrow. His voice, what a sound he could not describe, that of the devil itself, or perhaps a ghost…surely nothing of a human. And so, with this, the orchestra of the dead played throughout the night, seducing him as he listened to the eerie sounds of the gruesome.

Gothic bridges and eerie sounds of the dead o how beautiful~!-thoughts externalized into words.
He awoke eventually, still in his coffin, his wonderful tomb. Blood still smeared on his face. The unchanging darkness and shadows had always been in his setting, the window by him in his humble isolated gloomy castle. Out the window he looked, the Maiden of Dawn had arrived during his sleep, and he witnessed with his pale face and dark eyes, the ending of the world. He witnessed the new land be built, those controlling it were that to rejoice, for it had been the Orchestra of the Dead. O how he loved; no more of a place in sanitation, polluted with continually spawning numbers of human beings. Perhaps, seeing as the world ending or even taking a differed rule-he could venture to the other world once more? Grotesque feelings still overcoming him, he turns to the left once more to see the spider-now a fully grown creature. Creeping around the dark vast walls, it sews a message in its cobwebs-at this point he realised he had been sleeping for what seemed to be one thousands years, the society looking like it had already ended, but new rule just beginning. The spider’s message clearly spoke to him, what it said, he could not clearly read, though it spoke to him-saying to admire their new land from the safety of the gloomy castle, yet the rays of the unruly sun shall burn the very flesh-with this, time would never change in his coffin-his tomb…

Thus, he stayed in his coffin, in the unchanging shadows and dark-looking at times at the new cultivation-admiring such a ode to the grotesque.

[Vyvian Blackthorne]

goth4ever


~~~~~~~