Adrien
By dwarvenking
- 502 reads
I write this under conditions of clear and absolute sanity. I reckon you shan’t believe me these words, but I care not. I do not write this to convince you of the existence of the other worldly, but as a testament of what happened to me, for I fear that my life is soon to come to an end.
‘Twas a fortnight ago, the night when it started. I had finally managed to get proper working conditions for a project I had worked on for quite some time. I was to transcribe and translate an Ancient Egyptian tablet found in an expedition to the Pyramids in 1834. Considering it being an awfully quiet night, even strangely so, not even those pesky Irish made a noise as they usually would, I decided to focus myself solely on my work. I prepared my ink and quill, laid my pocket watch on the side of the desk as to not disturb me with its pesky ticking, and began the translation. Due to the perfect work environment I seemed to have carried myself away, and had done quite an essential bit of work. But maybe it was too much, I overextended, forgetting that I am merely an aging old man, brittle and tired, and not any longer a young soul full of life. At any rate, I had decided that it was enough for the night. I took a gander at my watch, the hand was way past one. I left the watch on the table and put on my bed clothes and laid down on the bed. The night, now that I was out of focus, suddenly provoked an eerie feeling in me, almost frightening. I left the candle light ablaze, although I am not a fearful man something, somehow, seemed offsetting.
I closed my eyes and drifted away into the Sandman’s realm of dreams, but, as if instantly –
- I awoke.
I was still in my room, though it was noticeably darker. The candle was stil lit, emitting a damp light. I got up, put on my slippers and went on to check my watch. I was stunned, if not a bit confused, with what I saw. The clock hand hadn’t moved an inch, and it seemed that the mechanism had malfunctioned. I put the watch in my pocket, and as I raised my head I noticed something quite peculiar. There was no light coming from my chamber window. This was odd, as the street lights always emitted, although a dim, light through the thin glass, illuminating my work table. Not even the moon shone on the black sky. I neared the candelabrum to the window in an effort to see something, but to no avail. My old and brittle heart had already begun its race, slowly but steadily building up pace, it had seemed that the ghastly darkness surrounding me had took its toll on me.
At this point I wanted to investigate this unnatural happening. I went towards my chamber door and opened it. Pure darkness. A gaping void stretching out into infinity. The light from the candles provided just enough of vision to me as to see a few feet of old wooden planks stretching out into the abyss. I felt terror and fear for what I believe was the first time in my life. After a moment, I came to my senses and took a step into the black nothingness, using naught but my memory of the house as my guide. The sound of my feet stepping on the old woodwork accompanied with the creaking of the same echoed throughout this wretched hallway. I walked for what seemed an eternity, becoming growingly paranoid as this was not how I remembered it to be. I was unknown of my own location, but unable to stop I kept going forward, onward.
Suddenly, I hit a door. This door was unfamiliar to me, blood red in color, designed in a strange fashion and in a place that I surely didn’t build it. Something about this door aroused a feeling of sickness and nausea within me by just looking at it. Hesitating, I opened the door. I stepped inside a room, black as pitch. The door behind me violently closed shut. I felt a faint breeze arising, and, in a swift sweep, it put out my candle. Growing ever afraid, shocked and unable to even utter a single word, I stood there, motionless, terrified. A ray of white light, out of nowhere, shone upon me. Another struck right at what seemed the middle of the room, illuminating a chair, one rather familiar. It was my own, the I spend my most precious time in, the one I work from. Upon this chair sat a ghastly figure, at first unrecognizable. It had hair of medium length, wore a white robe and gazed down upon the floor as to not reveal its face. My breath had become maniacal, sweat poured out of every pore, terror struck right at my heart which was beating profoundly. What I saw next did not help for I could feel my heart stop –
- It was me.
I could not even speak, nor move. My heart started beating out of proportion, accompanying the sound of a ticking clock. I pulled the watch from my pocket and saw the hand moving at its regular rate. The phantom stared right at my eyes, gazing deep into my soul. Tick-tock, tick-tock, the high-pitched beating of the cursed hand ringed through my ears, driving me insane by the second.
“You are running out of time, Atren.”
As the cursed apparition uttered these words the clock picked up in speed. The hand was now moving faster, almost spinning in circles. Tick-tock, tick-tock, the sound was louder and louder, my heart was beating faster and faster. The demon’s face was starting to change, it was aging, its hair grayed further, and the hands were becoming brittle.
“Hurry up, remember!”
Tick-Tock, Tick-tock. The wretched clock sped up again. The hand was circling at an enormous speed. My hearts beat echoed in my own ears. A wind picked up in the room, carrying a noticeable white trail. It swept fast and cold. A small hurricane formed around the phantom and in circular motion traveled around his throne. The figure aged further, its hair falling off, its eyes becoming clouded.
“REMEMBER ATREN! CONFESS! YOU ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!”
TICK TOCK TICK TOCK. THE CLOCK WAS NOW TICKING EVEN FASTER. WITH EACH TICK MY HEART WOULD BEAT. I SAW WITHIN THE DECAYING MONSTER SITTING UPON THE OAK THRONE DEATH ITSELF CONSUMING HIM, CONSUMING ME. I TOOK A GANDER AT MY OWN REFLECTION THAT APPEARED ON THE FLOOR. I WAS BALD, WITH CLOUDED EYES, AT THE VERY BRINK OF EXTINCTION. WHEN AT THE VERY SUDDEN I REMEMBERED.
“ADRIEN.”
As I mouthed this name I felt frozen. I felt something push me from behind, leading me into a fall. I fell through the floor showing my reflection, into a realm of memories. Around me I saw naught but her. My Adrien, my sweet, sweet Adrien. I saw pictures of her smile, of her dazing beauty. But with each passing moment of my great fall, the pictures changed, becoming twisted and distorted. I could still hear the racing clock hand and with each tick I saw my Adrien grow old, fragile and rotten. I saw the haunting image of what I had done, of the cardinal sin I had committed. I managed to shed only a single tear, when I was pulled back into the world of the living.
Awaken. Sweating and shaking in my bed. The sound of the people going out to the market square through the concrete street passing my house, killed the very melancholy. The sun had gazed its light upon my petty bedchamber. I got up and walked towards the door to take my leave. As I opened my very heart stopped. Before me she stood decayed and rotten – Adrien.
I fainted, only to awake hours later, lying on the entrance to my bed chamber. I could feel an eerie presence within my house from that night onwards, and still feel it now when I write this. Every night I lay in my bed I see her, watching me, getting closer and closer with each passing night. She wants her revenge, and she deserves it, for I am not a good man, nor will I ever be.
There she is. She has come. I will embrace her, I will give her what she deserves.
I am not afraid.
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Comments
Welcome to ABCTales
Welcome to ABCTales dwarvenking. Congratulations on finishing your first short story - there's some great description in it, and the build up of tension is very effective.
Two suggestions:
- I'm not sure why all those words are capitalised. Did you mean to switch back after the first sentence?
- You've used 'have a gander' twice and although it does mean to have a look, it doesn't sit well with the rest of the language. Perhaps try changing it to something else
I look forward to reading more from you!
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You've caught that feel of
You've caught that feel of the 'classic' ghost story, and the thing I like is that it's all focused on the event and its consequences. You don't distract from this by presenting a lot of back story about the exact nature of the cardinal sin, and this helps with building up the tension.
Like insert, I feel that it needs a good edit, because there are some instances where you've used the same word a couple of times in close proximity eg 'pesky', and 'bed clothes' with 'bed', when perhaps you could have used 'night clothes'. I don't know if you read your stories out loud when you've written them? I'm dreadful at never using one word where I can shove six in, and I find reading out loud helps me find which bits aren't working, or where there is repetition.
I'm a big fan of classic ghost stories so I enjoyed the ideas in this. If this is the first story you've completed, you should be very pleased!
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