Monday, 1 June 2015

Munia Volant

When I began to address her about the situation regarding the solicitation of her daughter's flesh, I suddenly realise that the matter at hand required swift action in my part to procure a method with which I could expressly deny any involvement or participation I may have myself partaken in the past. This was not such an easy task, however, as it began to rain fiery droplets of acid into our home before I could even get my tongue to roll an explanation or two to her.

She was of unsound mind that night, consumed by a belief or hysteria that her daughter's soul was been abducted by an insolent demon, and she told me directly, with a straight look on her face, that in her youth she did a sin so great she could no longer look at any other person straight in the eye and not admit this misgiving. She said, rather brusquely, that she had engaged in sexual liaisons with a familiar by the name of Yarwich, who terrorised her during her early teenage years with temptations of carnal nature. It was there that she developed some kind of fascination with the niche sexuality.

I asked her what she meant when she said those things, especially that last part, but she only replied that her daughter was the prize to be paid, and that, due to her ill-begotten conception, she must be put to the stake. Resistant as I was with this suggestion, I really had no final word with this decision. The other men beside me were rather compliant to the burdened woman in our midst, and they grew tired more and more about the sudden arrival of the ominous rain, so they all agreed with the idea that they approve of any suggestion that involves being rid of her and get the matter at hand over with as soon as possible.  As the waters leaked from one's roof to our room, a man grew fearful as he whispered to my ear that we have been lied to by this woman regarding her self and her daughter's predicament. This man pelted me with insults in my ear telling me how this night was such an awful proposition to accept and that we might have found ourselves in the company of a familiar itself, similar to that creature the woman spoke of earlier. It could be that this Yarwich creature sits in front of us now leading us to wrongful accusations. I could not deny this man's assessments reflected my own opinions in the matter, and slowly I myself found shaken down to my bootstraps, wishing I had never taken this woman's daughter to bed.

The raindrops from the rooftop hissed as it collides with the floor where we stood. Pop, pop, pop, it goes, each sound maximising the following ones, until the sky blurted out an orchestra of thunder and lightning. One of the men cried out as he noticed that the wooden walls of the house were emitting smoke, perhaps even catching fire, or worse under the spell of a higher being than us humans in here. I began to panic as well, and all that raced back and forth in my mind were prayers of hope and mercy to the gods, incantations that I learned from being sick and bedridden, and a strange sense of relief as I stood there and watched, and could not comprehend, even at the most frightening hour of my life.

Not long after that, the chandelier broke away. the sky about to swallow us all whole, and I think of the last time I saw my daughter's face and how happy she was at the concept of being enrolled into a dormitory of nurses. I could never have been more proud and happy for her. It was probably the most crowning achievement of my life, and now, I see it all taking me towards my doom. My child's name was Munia, and she needs not know. The winds will consume me now.

Search and destroy