The Troll's Tale

The sun rose high and yellow as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I awaited the presence of Lady Monique, and barely slept for the thought of seeing her once again.

After keeping an all night vigil beneath the bridge, I began to doze. It was a sweet and pleasant doze, full of warm tender emotions and sensual urgings.

In my dream state I felt her hand on my shoulder and shivered to think it could actually be the dear Lady herself. Surely a beauty of her caliber would have nothing to do with a troll as ugly and deformed as I?

"Why do you shake so, troll," she scolded. "I mean you no harm."

I closed my eyes and prayed for it all to be true. That the dear Lady would lay me down and raise her skirts with a free and eager lust. And, once mounted, devour me. To be swallowed up in her warm, sweet, and oozing desire. And once devoured, to flow out of her every pore and evaporate into the spring air, only to be inhaled by a sweet and tender yawn . . .

I felt the first lash of the whip and screamed.

"Why do you shake so, troll?" the horseman said with a laugh. "I mean you no harm."

The second lash caught me in the eye. I screamed a demented scream and fell to my knees. It was then I heard her voice.

II

Lady Monique is haunting my prison cell. I see her dancing on the shimmering beams cast by a laughing moon. I rise and I bow, gracefully tilt my head and smile. Offering her my hand, I am swept up on a carpet of moon-dust and joy. We dance the dance of wild beasts. Fearless and unashamed.

I awake, and a cold shiver rummages through my body, taking up residence in my twisted spine. The cold snaps me to attention and I bang on my cell door demanding attention. My outburst echoes down the dark and oily corridors, slithering along its slimy walls, finding no ears but those of the tortured souls who fill the filthy hell-holes of Dodson gaol.

Lady Monique had begged the horsemen to set me free (as I was no harm to anyone), but the horsemen had other plans. Tying me to an old maple tree, the horsemen turned his attention to the beautiful lady. Dropping his whip and codpiece, the horseman made a grab at the sweet lady's garments, lost his footing, and fell onto a thorny rose bus.

Unable to release me from the tree, the dear lady fled on the horseman's black stallion, taking with her the prized whip and codpiece, promising to return with help.

But I'm afraid I took too much pleasure in the horseman's thorny predicament. And losing all his treasured amenities did little to soften the horseman's disposition.

So here I sit here, lost and alone. Waiting.

III

The mouse sat on Troll's kneecap, nibbling on a breadcrumb. Troll was awake, but dared not move for fear of losing the only company he's had in quite awhile.

The troll's left eye was swollen shut, sealed with blood and tears, giving it the appearance of a huge and demented wink. The mouse stared at this strange looking creature as though it were concerned that no one had taken the time to clean the creatures wound. Then, losing interest, the mouse hurriedly finished its meal and scurried off into the darkness. Leaving Troll to brood over his ordeal. Leaving Troll to contemplate the noise in the courtyard below, where his captors were constructing a fine and proper gallows suitable for the hanging of a demon troll.

After the sun had set, and left with nothing but the darkness for company, Troll carefully examined his naked body with his hands. It was a body that had caused disgust in even the most beneficent of souls. But as he began to probe the most generous and forgiving portion of his body, all his tormentors vanished into the sweet night air and seemed never to have existed. The gallows below trembled gently with each gentle stroke of the creature’s fingers until it, too, vanished.

Thus the creature will survive another night. And then another.

Hope is always within our reach.