Two sparkling, cerulean eyes lolled back and forth. Drying blood, cracking and crimson, peeled off his naked body, flying off him in wispy flakes. Cotton-candy tainted saliva dribbled from his mouth as he twitched uncontrollably on the swampy floor. His stunning muscles bulged and strained as he lay on the cold, damp ground, doing a terrifying jig. Groaning and gagging on his own regurgitation; his fingers curled under, popping like cedars within a flame. Those beautiful blue eyes found mine once again, and our souls locked. His head turned all the way around, setting the stage for his withered back to arch up completely, revealing every bone in his delicate spine, and he stood. His right knee popped backward as he rose, and tiny drops of blood hit the earth. Wearily he dragged himself slowly to me, until his face was mere millimeters away from mine, and he smiled. His blood stained lips curved upward in the most horrifying of ways. A repugnant stench of rotting flash and sulfur was overpowering, all while tiny maggots ducked in and out of the spaces between his teeth. Bony, blackened fingers wrapped themselves up in my hair, becoming tangled within my broken brown locks. I war he'd carefully as he moved each phalange, putting out certain strands of hair. The sun started to set above us, cascading turquoise rays of light down his face. My emerald dress began to feel heavy, soaking up the moisture of the swamp. Le lac Borgne in front of us shone bright greek, with multiple lily pads gliding over the surface of the water. The candle that Gehenna had brought with us started to fade and flicker, leaving us with only the light of the sun, and each other. His heartbeat was in my ears, and I could taste the spells and chants he whispered to Satan. “Mon doux Jézabel, pourquoi es-tu si belle?” He murmured quietly, the soft sound of his desiccated mouth moving. “Pourquoi avez-vous encore rester aver moi? Je ne valent pas voter temps.” He continued, his eyes stirring rapidly underneath his drooping eyelids. “Vous aves dû jeter un sort sur moi, mon cher Géhenne,” I muttered softly, as not to stir his soul.
He leaned forward doubly, our lips barely brushing. The pull he had on my hair became agitated, ripping chunks of my tresses out, bit by bit. I placed my hand over his, digging my nails into the back of his hand, trying to wake him up, trying to pull him out of his trance. He fell to the ground, and I watched in dismay as my love went back to being the monster his family designed him to be, the carrier of omen and curses for centuries to come. Screeching and squawking he went, bending himself over and over and over until his chin was at his ankles and his feet dangled limp over his head. He started to bleed from his eyes, dots of it dripping down glistening cheeks. I sank down into the soil, letting my slip and undergarments get completely soaked in the dirty bog water. Leaves softly crunched underneath the weight of my dress, and a few tears escaped my eyes and Gehenna continued to crawl and sing his morbid prayers to the devil. The real Gehenna, the one I loved, emerged for only a moment, looking at me to tell me to end his suffering, before being dragged back down to the deepest chasms of hell. Sharpened and glimmering, the dagger that I kept laced tightly within my corset somehow found itself between my index finger and my palm. My body racked in a sob as I touched Gehenna’s face one last time.
I thrust the blade between his collarbones. The imp that kept Gehenna locked away bellowed and shrieked before it left him. A darkness of some sort flew out of his body as well, not a solid mass; but a ghastly thing, like a veil of smoke, oozed out of his bones and back into hell where it was conjured. Gehenna bled heavily, as his spirit fled his body, and his eyes closed. He reached up to touch my face before his head slumped back down int the marsh, never to raise again. I bit my lip, holding back the pain and the sorrow and the love that I had, and will always have for him. I had to see his eyes again. I pushed his heavy lids open, revealing tar black eyes, depraved and empty. There was no more dazzling blue. It was all gone, as was his anguish. I began to tear the fabric lacing inside my dress and wrapped him with it. Speedily I ripped and wrapped, making sure he was tightly bound and dry, rolling his body over, so maybe my gown would absorb the blood that was pouring out of him. Finally, he was wrapped up completely, more than half of my dress was gone, and enfolded around him. I started to drag his corpse closer to the water; where I could push him into it and he could float to his final destination on this planet, hopefully to a place that would put him at rest with God. The dirt created friction, but I kept pulling and pulling until finally, I had gotten his body into knee-deep water. Quickly, the bindings filled with water, and he started to float out past me without any added force. I sat down in the tarn, watching wager beetles slide across the scummy surface of the water. I laid down exhausted, letting my hair soak. My face was half under when suddenly, I felt the presence of the devil within me. The demons and evils that once haunted Gehanna and controlled his life entered me. Slowly, centuries worth of wickedness seeped into my bones and my spirit erupted from my body. “Que Dieu air pitié de mon âme,” I prayed before black tar spewed from my mouth, blocking my view of the ever fleeting sun.
Everything around me was shimmering bright gold; every tree, every bug, every little drop of water, and when I touched it, I flew. I flew until I was out of earth, my skin boiling from the heat of the sun. I would fly up to the heavens, until their condemned souls would reach their greedy, unclean hands up and pluck me straight from the sky.
They would laugh and howl, and then they would speak. His relatives, they spoke to me. They tantalized me with their thoughts and their memories. They made me see what they had, and I wanted to tear out my eyes. Oh, how they wept, until I was clawing at my scalp, begging them to stop. They seethed. They cooed. They roared. They kept on, and I wanted to turn off their voices, make them quit. All of his godless ancestors were inside my skull, playing with my brain, toying with my soul. Every part of my body was theirs, they had stolen it from me. I hated them, the voracious demons, starving for my essence. But, the more I struggled, the more they did— moving my body in ways that are not right, snapping my bones to teach me to be obedient. “Géhenne, tout cell set pour vous. S’il vows plaît, revenez à moi, je ne sues pas fort come too mon amour, me sauver,” I begged his decrepit body cavity, no where in sight. He left me, floating into the unknown. I had resuscitated his very psyche and he leaves me in my time of need.
And then they started to weep. And they seethed. And they cooed. And they roared. Or maybe that was I.