Rot Lingers
The refulgent moon hung low, a pale sliver swallowed gradually by the night.
Heave.
Crack.
Sonorous splitting of fragmented tree limbs reverberated raucously in the silent night.
Resounding gasps were entombed quietly, overlapping noiselessly with the clamorous shattering of branches.
Heave.
A whirlwind of fluttering white darted through the lofty weeds drifting portentously over the plenteous ground.
Clack.
The jarring sound of wooden shoes colliding with one another exclaimed vociferously, as if itching to be heard.
Delyth was strangled in her forlorn scamper.
Each fleeing gasp scantly furnished her desperate desideratum for air.
Her throat flourished parched, a stinging pain emanating deeply within.
Each budge of limbs felt heavy, burdening.
Strident muffled shouts were discernible behind her in the distance as the cold breeze whistled piercingly in her ear.
From afar, a vague silhouette could be perceived.
Wooden runt-down walls were stained in carmine red, the paint was slowly chiseled off by the ominous presence of time, as soot blackened the scorched corner edges.
Faint specks of moss bourgeoned sporadically in imperceptible crevasses, at a leisure, yet eager pace.
Sizable, hazardous gaps were littered everywhere, by grace of the misplaced black tiles who enswathed wretchedly the precarious roof.
Undefined, besmirched white lines rode downhill on the walls, sharply contrasting the deep red who painted them.
The village barn.
A dilapidated, pitiful arson victim of the village’s vanished head teacher, who with a begrimed hand, threw a light match at the building before being witnessed and suppressed.
No one was permitted or able to enter, solely the Grand Feast’s arrangers were authorized.
After the incident, they were stripped of their rights to access.
There it stood before her.
Splintered wooden planks obstructed rigidly the door and windows, nailed steadfastly.
Thunderous roars resonated in the yonder, looming balefully.
Blistering heat pervaded Delyth’s mind, small droplets of sweat descended her pale illuminated face. Contouring her defined cheekbones and plunging into her sunken cheeks.
Her hands clenched, searing agony seeped through her skin as her nails dug agitatedly.
A frantic throbbing emerged in her heart.
Her eyes scrutinized sanguinely the barn, scouring for a place to ensconce.
There resided, a narrow cleft. Behind it; darkness.
Compelled by the finite options of escape, she penetrated the obscurity, umbra devoured each patch of skin and flesh who trespassed.
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Inside, a putrid, vomit-inducing odor ambled in the air, an urge to suppress her retching arose.
The sickening, appalling stench became apparent, it stiffly stung her bewildered eyes, red-rimmed by the immutable irritation.
She was unable to perceive her surroundings, only darkness.
An unfaltering void persisted.
Delyth took one step forward before-
Scratch.
She felt a slender cylindrical object rub against the sole of her shoe.
A flickering gleam of hope flitted in her eyes.
She swiftly plunged to her feet, fondling and nudging frenetically the ground.
Specks of dust and dirt adhered to her fingertips, slighting her hands, leaving an odious feeling.
Clack.
She unearthed it.
The young girl rolled the small wooden stick between her fingers and turned to rub vigorously the red head on the brittle wall.
Swish.
A lustrous, shimmering flame burst out, dancing daintily.
It was bright, but she could barely see.
Cold stone covered the floor.
Faint, sere drops of red drizzled down the intersecting lines of the different slabs. Staining the imbedded pebbles in the humid dirt found between.
Inside were not stables or fences.
Decayed, rust-covered cuffs laid, disarrayed on the ground, specks of red tracing the edges, they were attached to several leaden chains instilled in the flaky walls.
A plentiful number of buckets were shoved in a sinister corner.
Traces of snuff-colored substance bordered the edges of the container, emanating a revolting, fetid scent.
Retch.
Bile strewed from her lips, its yellowish moss color streamed down in a transparent string of liquid, detaching occasionally before continuing to droop down, sagging over the vicious, thickened puddle of purge.
Upheaval riled in her stomach with a tingling sensation inciting her to hurl once again. Nausea overrode her senses, a dull, bludgeoning ache hammered her head, slamming repeatedly, wanting to fracture her skull.
Driven by biliousness, she hastily took a step back, coasting a foot across the stone floor before ramming her heel into an inured, rigid object.
Startled by the sudden touch, the young girl spun swiftly on her heel, arms flailing in the air as to not lose balance, as the flame swayed with her, withstanding the violent winds.
She looked down and saw;
A skull.
It grinned.
Its outwards semi-spherical shell was rifted in the middle, unsettling teeth marks and blear scratches marred it.
Wide sockets embellished the skinned head, effete, friable teeth hung from the half-shattered mandible.
Across it was another head, except unskinned.
Entangled hair sprouted out its roots, large patches ripped out.
Dark spots speckled the unblemished skin as it sagged to the sides. Mangled flesh lacerated the face, from the far right of the forehead to the far left of its jaw. Swelled, billowed skin putrefied around the unplumed gashes, miniscule, punctured holes drilled in the mutilated flesh as maggots slithered around the rancid smelling meat. The body’s face was unidentifiable.
Next to it was a doll.
Small ebony hair weaved together to form a thick braid tied with a red ribbon. Rugged skin held two black button eyes as threads poked out of the seams. A white flowy dress covered the small plush-like body. Its left arm and right arm ripped out, blood-stained stuffing seeping out, its right hand was dotted with red drops.
A gouging, corrosive clangoring pulverized her mind. Throe palpitated strenuously, sending unbearable swells of tingle throughout her body, dulling every of her senses.
Her mouth left agape, as she finally tasted the acidic, repulsive after-taste of hurling in the back of her gorge, scratching endlessly.
A lump grew in her throat, thwarting the path of her agonizing screams, only permitting choked sobs.
Her vision misted as stinging droplets of tears rose from her eyes to sluice downwards.
Cough.
A string of violent spluttering reverberated in the hollow room, intertwining with strangled weeps.
A damp, warm patch appeared on her sleeve as she fiercely scrubbed her eyes while an elongated strand of white liquid slouched from her cracked lips.
She flung the careening flame, watching the scintillates drifting in the putrid odor.
Delyth rapidly redirected herself and headed towards the gap of light.
Clack, clack, clack.
The grating noise of her wooden heels slamming into the rigid stone echoed blatantly.
The rotting, malodorous scent encasing her gradually dissolved in the pristine, unsullied air of the outside, away from the stifling, tenebrous room.
The vast field seemed serenely calm.
Solely the night breeze strolled silently in the night as she stepped out.
Crick.
Delyth incontinently looked back.
Slowly, smoke surged, swelling from the barn as the acrid odor wafted in the air replacing the once salubrious smell.
Run.
With a detonate of a leg, she sprinted through the anchoring herbs, lightly chafing her skin.
Her head bulged with a low-pitch hum, gurgling esoteric mutterings, as it ached numbly.
Screech.
Her wooden shoes grated harshly against the embedded gravel while she made a sharp turn.
Scratch.
Her arm obdurately abraded the stone dented wall as she made her way through a narrow passage.
Creak.
Her hand slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door.
A wardrobe stood tall with its back against the wall, various drawings were plastered on every empty space of the room, a low shelf hung by a string, carried a wide range of wooden toys.
Amid it all, a small bed lay beneath a heap of white wool blankets.
Curled beneath them, clinging to a pillow, was a tiny silhouette.
Its ebony black hair splayed on the bed, glistening in the faint moonlight.
Stillness.
A tranquil quiet, nothing more, nothing less.
Just silence.
With a hesitant hand, she lightly tapped him and said with a hoarse murmur,
“We need to leave.”
