Thursday, May 15, 2014

POETRY - HORROR: Soul Heiress

©Soul Heiress
Mimi Wolske, May 2014
All Rights Reserved

Heiress to it all,
whatever it all entailed,
since her auntie died...
who was survived by
her two children,
a boy and a girl...
she waited on
a placid jetty that was
populated temporarily
with the ignorant
who awaited the voyage
to accompany her.

Her knowledge of
the being, of the
dreaded truth, and the
obscure circumstances
surrounding her aunt's
cause of death
were things that were eked
out as though from a dream
and intensified as they angled
down the shortcut on the
precipitous hillside from the
deceased's home to the water.

Perplexing were the vegaries
of hateful cousins' personalities
once they realized the inheritor
was the sole possessor of
the extravagant figurine
with unclear pictorial intent, an
object coveted since it
simultaneously could
be the serpent-woman Lamia,
a benevolent Jinn, or Nakh
with her seductive singing voice—
all three as monstrous as the twins.

Scenes and half-sounds only
artists and poets could describe
could save the beneficiary's life,
but either these aesthetes edited
out the bizarre visitations in
the nightly dreams of those
believers and followers or
their notes and correspondence
were not preserved save for one...
a line in an abstruse poem:
"...confessed his acute fear of
the gigantic nameless thing."

The deceased's children claimed
their mother became
panicky, eccentric and
that after nights of
incessant screams to be saved
from the claws of some
escaped denizen of hell,
she fell into a fitful silent trance,
which lasted weeks, until
at last she sat straight up
in her bed, clutched her chest,
and succumbed to the waiting horrors.

Young Allegra, the sole heiress,
believed the statuette, or
the fetish—if that's
what it was—to be so
singularly hideous she
wrapped it and hid it away
never realizing she'd
stumbled into a dark cult
totally unknown, except
by two; the idol was too
diabolic for any recognized
school of arts to lay claim.

Although packed away,
the figurine (which stood
ten and twelve inches high
and was of exquisite and
artistic workmanship,
the green monster with
its sensual serpent body
and a face too handsome
for what it might be)
never lost it's power;
it sang too Allegra
at night while she dreamed.

Fearsome and
unnatural nightmares,
which could become a
malignancy to the heiress if
the talisman came into the
hands of the evil twins,
plagued her sleep and showed
hidden and undecipherable
characters on its base...
which she never noticed
when, frightened by it,
she buried it in some box.

What unhallowed
cycle of life had become
her auntie's world at the end?
Surely it was nothing
she could conceive or
willing took part. Were
the twins part of some
curious form of devil worship?
Such deliberate bloodthirstiness
repulsed and chilled the
inheritor...made her shudder,
awed her into silence.

The night previous to
descending the precipitous
hillside, local police came for
information, explaining some
of the town's women and children
had disappeared when they
wandered into the dark haunted
woods where no town's men
dared to venture, and then
came the incessant cries, the town's
men relayed, soul-chilling chants...
oh, and dancing devil flames.

Waiting on the jetty in the
late afternoon, the heiress
studied her surroundings.
Across the water lay
miles of woods where
day never came, where
those who worshipped
the horrors of darkness
stayed out of sight. On this
side of the water, the pile of
dank stones and fragments
of an aged and rotting wall.

Allegra brought back the
memory of the police and
the soul-gripping cries
she heard in her dream...or,
was it a dream? Faintly
audible on the other side—
a curdling shriek. There.
It came again, and again
at infrequent intervals and
always when the wind shifted
and ever-expanding ripples across
the water...something dropping in?

There was something...
something evil here; laws and
morals thrown aside by each
one in the small group on the
jetty...and the inheritor reluctant
to be left alone for fear one of
them may be unholy and
might advance a step toward
her and the casket—
then, something happened;
something beneath the waves
and in the deep waters.

The chanting began slowly
and in hushed tones by
the twins and the priest.
Memory never died, she
reminded herself as black
spirits, moldy from the
rumors thrown to the
forgotten bottom of the
sea, came up from the depths
with shrill screeches and wails.
She climbed onto the coffin
when all locked eyes on her.

Primal mysteries through which
not even her thoughts could
pass cut off the otherworldly
intercourse when the hillside
opened and vaporous beings
jettisoned up, up, up...and then
down, down, down, all coming
directly for Allegra. Or, were
they coming for the soul in
the coffin? Not knowing or
 understanding what she was doing, she
crossed her arms above her.

The giant thing circled; it left
trails, outlines of the others,
then coming back to form one.
Was this what auntie saw?
It swooped down, into the
coffin, then shot to each
of the twins, then, as if savoring
the frightened prayer of the priest,
dove and took his soul, too.
When she opened her eyes, she
knew she inherited nothing from
her aunt; she was the Soul Heiress.

The matter of the cult,
the twins and priest, the
missing women and children,
and the figurine had
vanished...any innocence that
that remained was stripped
away and reformed by the
giant, shaped into a raving,
delirious monster of stone
becoming the idol of unknown
origin, about a foot in height,
waiting for the next soul.

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