The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
by Lydia Prime
I can still feel the flames burning through my bones. Decades, centuries have passed, but still, I remain bitter. Balthasar was wrong though, about me at least, the ones who came after, I cannot say. I’ve been lingering on this plain for a reason, reliving the flames, the smoke, just so I could watch the world for the right time.
I’ve been waiting here, at the monastery in Fulda. She’s got to come, the right one, I’ll know her, I’ll feel it! I haven’t felt anything besides a constant roasting of phantom flesh, but he says there will be a magnetism when she’s finally here…
In the autumn of 1602 I was accused and burned for witchcraft I had never performed. I vowed revenge – not for myself, but for the life inside me. I’d have been spared, but my confession also demanded that my child’s father was named as der Teufel himself. Convenient, no?
Lucky me, once there was nothing left but scorch marks and ash, I met the creature beyond the myth. Oh yes, his brilliance, beauty, and fearsome intoxication drew me. I struck a deal. I would wait on the mortal plain to possess a woman and give birth to his child if he assisted me in terrorizing Balthasar von Dernbach to his grave.
Finally, in 1605, the prince and self proclaimed witch hunter of Fulda was dead. At my hand. I still smile when I recall his face: the crystalized perplexity, the fear, the shame; a cocktail I could sip for eternity. When he finally looked upon me, his first victim, he saw the havoc he brought upon himself.
“Merga?” His voice trembled. Satisfied with my work, I would make good on my deal, but as it had taken so much time, this would be even sweeter. I called upon the King of Hell himself, and he came of course, ready to collect.
“It is time, the others, they deserve their due.” I said. He smiled, knowing exactly what I meant. Balthasar was given to the other two-hundred-and-fifty witches he’d tortured and burned. Tears fell from his eyes, as mine had, but for only himself. “Wo ist dein Gott jetzt?” I asked him, the smirk never leaving my lips.
Fiction © Copyright Lydia Prime
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
More about Lydia Prime:
Lydia grew up in a small, ‘Mayberry,’ sort of town, in New Jersey. She thoroughly enjoys gummy bears and laughing through the darkest depths of life. More often than not, she writes about demons and monsters, however, being a recovering addict tends to turn inner demons into fearsome foes to be fought beyond the constraints of the mind. ‘Sometimes,’ she states, ‘what’s inside, is scarier than anything reality throws at you.’
Please visit Lydia on Facebook for more info.
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Women in Horror Month 9