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It seemed as if it were forged from the depths of his forgotten memories, a path taken only in a dreams watery grave. Its retched embrace pulling him into the recesses…… Desmond searched for what was left, the remnants of what was living no longer held any importance within him. He ran his fingers through his hair, looking out onto the cityscape below, the lights of the automobiles that had at one time glowed like heaven, now became only dim reminders of his destiny. He had gathered the souls for Robin and laid them before him, their screams became the aria of desecration, the specters within the scheme of his dark offerings. Desmond walked from the balcony and back into Biba’s sitting room as the moonlight played its pale blue light against papered walls, she was fragile within its ambience……… Forever.
“What is it Desmond?” her hand reached up to his as she spoke, her eyes questioning in the shadows. He looked down on her porcelain white face and smiled, the lines along the corners of his mouth became more prominent, “We must go now………..This night, there is much to gather………The retched await.” Biba moved her hand from his and trailed her fingertips along the inseam of his trousers, “so soon Desmond?” She felt him harden as she moved her moist red lips across the thin fabric, her teeth gently teasing at his firmness. The headmaster opened the door of his study and trudged slowly down the hallway to the children’s dormitory, he peered through the double oak doorway at the thirty small beds that lined the walls. The semi dark room found them all in peaceful slumber. He scratched his ass, then turned and headed back to his rooms, his tired eyes drooping, the lids at half mast as he finally plopped back down on his reading chair and returned to his volume on ‘Birds of North America’. He laid the book across his lap and bent forward to stir the coals in the small fireplace, the flames shot up, and then settled back down. “A little chill in the air tonight.” He sat back and started to read a small segment on the red tipped cardinal and its mating habits when he felt himself drifting into darkness………… The fire grew hotter………..It drew itself high up into the flue, then settled once again to a small glow, but this time it spit a small coal onto the oriental rug next to the headmasters chair. At first it seemed to sit there in its little universe, creating within itself the crater of its existence……… But then it began to grow and consume all that surrounded it, becoming the cancer of its affliction and its life. The headmaster slept deeply. The fire worked its way across the dry carpet towards the door to the hallway, moving in concert in its symphony of evil.......... |