The Storm

It was a dull and wet November. The winds were harsh and unforgiving, making the endless rain dance and blow me off the muddy path.

I have been running. Running from the storm and its dangers. I must get away.

I hear nothing but the raging rain, and the soul-shaking thunder booming in my ears. I feared I would see nothing but storms and darkness until… The sharp and edgy silhouette of a gothic castle emerged as a lightning bolt illuminated the sky.

I begin to trudge up precarious mountain paths. With all the shadows and dark crannies in the mountain, I could’ve sworn I saw someone… but no- no one knows I’m up here - I had made sure of that.

With my dark navy trench coat soaked through, I noticed the once striking red had been washed away. I finally made it to the great oak doors. For a brief moment, I considered knocking, but the castle looked uninhabited.

I warily stepped inside, taking off my top hat. I immediately felt a sense of unease and foreboding. Dust lay on the portraits and surrounding furniture as if it had been there since the beginning of time. Stepping forward, a chill rose on the back of my neck as I felt the eyes in the portraits following me.

I turned my gaze down a corridor with shadows like-

AH!

I quickly turned to the sound of the thick doors slamming shut. Longing for a sigh of relief, but my heart continued beating, leaving me on edge.

Walking towards the middle of the hall, hands shaking. I turned back once again, to see the wet footprints left in my wake on the carpet. The deep crimson red was faded, but still so astonishingly similar to-

No.

But I can still vividly remember the same shade on-

No! I must leave the storm outside. The staircase was creaky with age, as I felt it slightly dip under the weight of my weather-worn boots. I hesitated before holding the rail for fear it might break under the weight of even the slightest touch. In the dark, I stepped cautiously.

My nostrils flared at the smell of mold, and I felt slight disgust toward the layer of grime covering everything. Chipped paint and motionless dust told me the place had been uninhabited for many years. This castle felt like the ghost of a relic; empty and forgotten. Only the shell of a past life.

Longing for a source of light, I was ecstatic to find a torch. I pulled out damp matches from my pocket. It took many tries, but on the last attempt I was able to light a torch. Instead of bringing the hoped-for feeling of safety, the flame made the shadows leap out, and dance; taunting me of their dangers. The untouched corners of darkness seemed to seep out and dare me to imagine what they hid in their gloomy abyss.

My heart was beating faster than a hare as I turned a corner and found a door. Quite mysteriously, I found myself opening it. It felt like trespassing, and as an outsider I shouldn’t be exploring… but still curiosity pushed me forward.

Inside, there was a grand dining hall. The furniture was covered with great white sheets, reminding me of ghosts. What I expected to be an exquisitely crafted chandelier hung high on the ceiling. It was also covered with sheets, and so further gave the illusion of a pale and floating ghost.

Lightning struck, illuminating tall glass-paned windows, filling the entire hall with a blinding light. I walked over to the table, and moments later came the crashing boom of thunder.

A glint of light caught my eye when the lightning struck, and I journeyed around the table to get a better look. I approached, and as I looked closer it was a fine metal ring with- my heart nearly stopped - a blood-red gemstone. Just. Like. She. Had.

No, not her. I mustn’t think of that. Leave the storm outside.

Lightning flashed again. But, dear me! The creamy white walls turned red!

Dark, bloody, crimson red!

Will the storm not stay outside?

I stepped back, my breaths sharp and fast, making me dizzy. My thoughts flashed across my head but were blurred and painful.

“No!” I cried. “Must I be punished?”

My heart was pounding, faster than ever. Faster, and faster. Beating, and beating! I feared it might explode!

The room seemed to get smaller, surrounding me. And the walls! Dripping, dripping red… I might go mad!

Everywhere I turned. And the ring- her ring. No, not her! May I not leave the storm outside?

Outside, the storm raged- but not nearly as much as the one inside of me. I should’ve known the repercussions of my sin would forever follow me, even if I left the scene of the crime.

I must escape- but there is no closure - no way out! I almost fainted from my hysteria, but another bolt stuck, and behold! The walls were bare.

No more blood. No more ring. No more storm.

I escaped that wretched room with great haste, as I ran frantically, heart banging against my chest, finding a hallway with draping curtains.

                                                       Red curtains. 

I yelled as I pulled them all down, and gloomy dark gray light filled the hall. Rain pattered against the panes- the storm outside showed no signs of stopping - and neither did the one inside.

At that moment, I realized it never would.

Looking through the window, I saw the slippery rooftop, menacing gargoyles, and a balcony.

Walking outside, onto the wet balcony, I was bombarded by relentless winds and freezing rain.

And I pulled it out. The murder weapon.

Heart trying to escape my ribcage, and adrenaline pumping through my veins, I threw it. I threw it screaming and full of rage.

I screamed and screamed. Energy practically bursted from my body. Never had this much rage coursing through my veins.

“Why must I be tormented?!?” I yelled at the top of my lungs, but the howling rain and wind prevented my cries from reaching my ears.

Visions of the blood, her ring, the screams, my knife, and the blood! Oh, the blood!

I will never be free, never escape from the guilt of my actions. The torment of the consequences I must face. Never. Unless..

In my hysteria, I make the decision. To escape and fall with the rain.