From: beth@nermal.SantaRosa.Edu (Beth Winegarner)
Newsgroups: alt.gothic
Subject: Re: hm...stories
Date: 9 Jan 93 04:42:11 GMT
Organization: Santa Rosa Junior College, Santa Rosa, CA

>I know this isn't exactly the place for this request but I was wondering if anyone has gothic tales (stories) that they can post ?
>well, I'd really appreciate it.  Can also e-mail instead if you don't want to 
>post.  Thanks sooooo much....( in advance ).=)

How about this one?  I wrote it a couple of years ago....

---------------------------------------------------------------
 
                              PRISONERS
                    (c) 1992 nosering publications
 
 
        ....He came to me with all the power of the Night gleaming in his
veins.... His room was to be a consecrated place, where no harm could come
to him from the outside world, where he could think without the distraction
of disturbing presences.  He was haunted, his soul haunted by the angels of
the night, and in his dark eyes one could bear witness to the pain that
trapped him, held him prisoner to the darkness.  But in this room, he washed
the bad blood, the voices, washed them all away.
        It was here that I found myself one night, drawn through the moonlit
world as if there were no other place I could survive.... and it was here
that we were both set free.
        He had no name at that time, though he once did.... in between
identities, it was now dangerous for him to be labeled, lest he be caught
again in the web that had deceived him so many times.... He was all
beauty--long, dark hair that he often hid his eyes beneath to go
unrecognized, his skin soft and pale, drawn white by the seclusion that kept
him breathing.... slender and limber from the physical strain of deep trance
and tension.  I felt gross and clumsy in the presence of such grace, such
visual elegance, though I know he thought me exquisite.  In the darkness it
didn't matter... the touches, the caresses of love were the only
communication that did not lie.  Just as he was haunted by the world, I was
haunted by him....
        ....Awakening from nightmare, I had barely put on my dressing-gown
before a force had pulled me from my bedroom, out into the night.  Over the
hills I had walked, rocks tearing at the bottoms of my feet, and though I
had never traveled this far before, I knew the way.  I came finally to a
large stone house, deep within a grove of tall, wavering trees... a dwelling
large enough for several, yet there was only one who lived here, and he had
been calling to me for as long as I could remember.  As I entered through
the huge door, my hand was clasped in the darkness, gently, yet with such
urgency as I have never felt.  I was led through lightless rooms, down,
down,
and further down.... and soon I was seated on something large, soft,
inviting.... I felt warm hands pushing me backwards to lie on my back,
clever fingers drawing me naked under a strange familiar touch.... lips on
my lips, so sweet and torturous.... I gave in to the emotion that
overcame me... I knew I would never find love like this again....
        ....When I awoke the next morning, I was amongst gravestones, behind
the large house that had drawn me here... I studied the stones, but could
not read their cryptic phrases, blurred by moss and erosion.  Sunlight spilt
through the trees, enough to light my way back to his house.... and then
that light disappeared forever.
        ....Again I knew the way back, back to the room where I had lost
myself and found something greater.... and I lived there with this being who
had been calling to me for so long.  He explained that I was the special
one because I could hear him calling, because for who I was I could love him
as no one else would dare, that I was the only one who could love in the
face of loss and not give up... I knew one day I would lose him, for that
was what I was here for, to set him free.  He told me his tale, a tale
can barely face.... a life so terrible that it had no end.  All I know now
is that all of those gravestones behind the house were his... but that I
would be the one to cnge all that.
        The lovemaking we shared was beyond all abandon... as we connected
psychically, his thoughts, his memories were transferred to my mind.... I
began to realize the horrible reality of a soul that cannot progress into
new life until it has found true love.  He had been trapped life through
life in this lonely house, unable to break the chains that bound him to
it.... and he could not leave.  Though he died and was born again, he did
not have the strength to find that one love... until slowly he began to
develop himself, began to make connections with the spirit world that helped
him learn the mental skills he needed to find his soulmate... he was taught
to communicate with his mind, to the spirits, to animals, and finally he
found a human connection, to the only one who could free him of this endless
cycle.  That was me.
        And it was on that one rare night that it would all end, Samhain,
the
night when all his lives would return to him in one flash... if he
consummated himself with the one who could save him, at that moment, all
would be over.  The candles were lit, only to be blown out by the angry
storm that would try to tear us apart.  He held me close, whispered his
hoarse goodbye, and made love to me like never before... all his rage, all
his strength, pulsed inside of me again and again in the darkness.... he
had been trapped in the flesh for so long, and now he ached to thrusimself
out of it... and as the moment came, the sweet moment when passion
collides with pain, the world went blacker that it ever has before.... and
when the light broke through the room for the first time in centuries, he
lay on me, forever in sleep.... he was finally free.
        ....I buried him, for the final time, on that morning of all
saints.... a grave had been prepared for his arrival.  I wept selfishly, for
I would never stand in the sun with him... but a part of him lived quietly
on in my heart.  He watched over me for the rest of my days, as I lived
alone in my cottage over the hill from the crumbling ruins of a Prison....