The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
All that Remains
by Kim Richards
A tall fortress constructed of thick stone the color of burnt sienna stood for centuries. Many golden suns kissed the horizon out over the ocean. Winds–cold, wild, and sometimes biting–buffeted the walls and towers to no avail. It was a place of safety meant to last.
Good kings and tyrants ruled throughout the ages. Lovers, true and often betraying, stood beneath trellis’ of Bourbon roses in the inner gardens with hands clasped and lips pressed to one another. The laughter of children and dogs barking echoed off the walls to the delight of many watching them play. The dogs grew feeble and died while the children became adults displaying auras of pious goodness or arrogant vileness.
Soldiers with armaments and armor displaying the army heraldry of their time stood watch along the battlements. Eventually they would be defeated and new soldiers with new generals replaced them. If one looked closely, flecks of their blood remained embedded in the tiniest of pockmarks in the stone crenellations.
The fortress housed its share of atrocities as well. Twice the garden was razed to make way for gallows. Screams rose into the air like so much smoke. Death’s stench never fully left, despite new planting of roses and fragrant beds overflowing with mint and lavender.
The third garden saw the arrival of Death’s-head Hawkmoths. Although they fed mainly upon the nightshades and stole honey from the bees, the people saw them as a bad omen. Despite the gardeners’ pleas that the moths pollinated the red petunias, many died at the hands of the fearful at midnight.
Perhaps someone—the Earth or Nature perhaps—had enough. That which was meant to last was no more. It began with a great roaring as the ground shuddered. People ran but were crushed by the falling stones. Many lay trapped beneath but no one remained to save them.
Ocean waves lashed out, brought to a salty frenzy by the earthquake, and carried battered garden remnants out to sea. Everything drowned, even the lowly grey mice hiding among the grain storage. The moths took flight, heading inland.
Eventually trenches formerly used to secure the fortress walls filled with seawater. A brilliant green moss crept across the ground like a blanket slowly pulled over to conceal the stones. Unnecessary now there is no one left with delusions of safety.
There is one corner of one fortress wall still standing. Its sienna colored body leans as if nodding to the sun filled horizon…lonely. It is all that remains.
Fiction © Copyright Kim Richards
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
The Blood Lights
