Rixas de Sangue: Part 12
I was dreaming of a vast circular room, an ancient coliseum – open with the sun shining brightly and the deepest blue sky overhead. Where the walls should be there was a thick miasma with countless, colorless strings that extending from the nothing. They crisscrossed at different points in the expanse of the room, like a giant spider web.
I wondered where I was.
I heard a noise and saw an ancient woman moving about. She was swathed in a blinding white tunic held together with tied together bits of the same cording that stretched across the room. She had wiry black hair that was tangled at the back of her head, held with yet another length of the string.
I looked at her more closely and saw that she had too many arms, six perhaps? Maybe, eight? It was hard to tell because they moved so swiftly as she walked around.
I watched in awe as she snaked a string in the fingers of one hand, pulling on it so that it lengthened. One of her other hands plaited the threads as she overlapped one length with others as she traveled; and in yet another hand she had shears that she was using to cut strings as she went. She moved so that it was hard to tell if she making deliberate choices or if she was acting on instinct.
She came closer to me. Her skin looked transparent, paper thin. I looked closer still and I felt nauseated when I saw that she had no eyes, just gaping crusted holes where they should have been.
It was instinct, then.
I gasped as it dawned on me who this decrepit crone was supposed to be. An ancient being I hadn’t thought about since I was a child. She was who frightened humans and immortals alike.
She was Moirae – Fate.
Her head turned my way as if she was looking at me and she smiled a crooked toothless grin at me, a black fluid dribbled around the edges of her mouth.
“Amara…” The crone’s voice crackled in a way that reminded me of TV static under water. “I have been waiting for you.” An icy whisper of death seized my lungs.
She signaled for me to follow her as she floated back across the room. I did as she beckoned.
At the farthest end of the room we approached a series of cords that were much longer than the others. They began back in the skein of the others, but they changed to a darker color and different texture as they extended beyond. I noticed that they looped back around again into the web.
She absent mindedly snipped at one in a place where it crossed over several others.
Then, she came upon a brightly lit length that ran closely with a dark grey one that looked like it was made of granite. She tugged on the radiant thread, moving it towards a cord that looked made of a precious metal, platinum maybe?
She lifted it up so that I could see it better.
“This is her.” Her effervescent voice said.
I knew she was showing me Bendis. My heart tightened in fear. I knew I could stop Moirae from doing whatever she pleased, but I didn’t want Bendis anywhere in her sights.
I could only stare at her in horror.
Then, in yet another one of her other hands she weaved her fingers around the cord that looked like metal. I felt an irritating tickle like someone was yanking softly at my chest- I looked down and saw that it was extending from me. Wide eyed, I followed the distance of the strand from where it attached to me to where her fingers coiled around it. I was terrified.
She grinned at me as she brought the two cords closer together. She paused to blow on them and a glistening mist fell from her lips encompassing the two lengths like a glaze. The cords thickened considerably.
The room filled with a deep rumbling, a chanting hum that seemed to make the room pulsate all around me.
I watched as she intersected the two lines. That is when I realized the cords were not thickening but vibrating and where they touched it looked as if they sparked. The humming became so strong it felt like an earthquake in my chest. It felt as if my spine would shatter from the power of it.
She moved again and I noticed as she pulled the granite one to cross over both mine and Bendis’ ropes. It dawned on me who that one belonged to…it was Malachi.
In her fingers she clasped all three cords. I wanted to stop her somehow but the dream moved in slow motion and I watched horrified as the hand that held the shears moved towards all three. She stepped in my way – I could not see what she was doing… which cords she was cutting. I felt the thread in my chest pull taut and then slacken.
I lost my footing and I toppled backwards. I felt like I was falling down into a deep chasm. The light was fading. The oxygen was leaving; the air was getting thinner and thinner as I felt the end coming… the ground rushing up to meet me.
This was going to hurt.
My eyes snapped open. I was gasping for air. My galloping heart was pounding like a drum and I was trembling so badly my teeth were chattering.
Then, I felt the electricity of her hand flutter across my side protectively and suddenly I was calm.
“Bad dream?” Her voice was velvet.
“I suppose.” I maneuvered myself so that I lay facing her. She smiled at me sleepily.
“Hmmm, well…come here…” She pulled me closer to her. “I’ll make it all better.” She teased before kissing me. I let myself get lost in her for a little while, letting my dream with all my new found fears fade into the mists.
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©2010 N.M Faria
Tags: N.M Faria, RIXAS DE SANGUE
