Alive

    Standing on a distant field of glorious green, I saw great horses galloping on the plain.  The beat of their hooves was like the noise of thunder on a stormy night.  The gallant beasts, tails and manes flowing in the wind of their own speed, came at a great stride up the small hill I was standing on.  They all flew past me like spirits of great warriors heading into battle.
    They all flew past me, but one.  The last one of the group checked his pace and whinnied as he reached the peak.  Then he trotted towards me.  He was completely black except for a star-shaped spot on his brow, right between his coal black eyes.  He was a strong beast with great limbs and a fire that burned deep within his eyes.
    I stretched my hand out as he came nearer and caressed his noble neck.  He stood proudly and stared at me as I studied his magnificent body.  He was very, very large, but gentle.  I fed him an apple I had with me and turned to leave after studying him for a while.
    I walked down the hill then looked back.  There he stood black against the bright blue sky.  He suddenly reared up and ran down the slope towards me.  Startled, I tried to move out of his way, but he changed his course straight towards me.  He stopped right in front of me looking at me with intelligent eyes and his proud ears standing alert towards me.
    I walked tentatively to his side and rubbed his onyx flanks.  Then, not knowing why, I leaped onto his back.  He reared up, but not in a way that he wanted to throw me off.  He took off towards the west almost flying across the green plain.  The wind pounded in my ears and the blood pulsed in my veins.  I was alive.  I was so very much alive in that glorious rush.
    We ran for a long time.  I say “we” because I felt that I was part of that great being running like the wind across the rolling green plain.  When we finally slowed down, I saw that we were at least six leagues from where we had started.
    Not knowing what to do, I stayed on the glorious horse’s back and stared at the sunset on the distant horizon.  I felt alive at that moment.  Not only breathing and thinking, but alive.  It was as if this was the reason I existed.  I was alive.

Fright (and a caveat)

(A quick caveat before publishing this post:  I've been publishing things I've written before, some of them quite a long time ago.  In no way do these stories represent the current state of mind of the author.)

    He walked into the room, the swinging doors creaking closed behind him.  His black, wide-brimmed hat lay low on his head, just enough to cover his eyes.  His pale mouth was frozen in a half smirk.  As soon as he walked in, the ordinary loud and boisterous room got as silent as a winter midnight.  Everyone looked up to see who had come in.  I knew immediately that there was going to be trouble; those kinds of men always bring trouble with them.
    He walked slowly up to the bar and asked for a beer.  I was sitting in the corner, but I heard everything.  Everyone was still staring at him, sizing him up.  Little by little, conversations began to start again, but only in hushed whispers, afraid to break the silence that had reigned for the last couple of minutes.  When the man got his beer, he sat back and stared openly at the people gathered there.  When he did this, I finally got a glimpse of his eyes.  They were black, not just dark brown, but black as coal mined deep in the darkness where the sun never sees.  They seemed to look straight through you into the darkest corners of your soul.  When that evil pair passed by me in the corner, I shuddered at the eeriness in that stare.
    I quickly got up and left after that episode.  I couldn’t stand being in the same room as that man for another second.  I left quickly, muttering to the bartender to keep the change as I shoved a bill at him.  If I could have run out of there I would have.  I was so uneasy that I had to leave.  It seemed as if I was the only one.  Everyone else had regained their composure (to an extent, at least) and were talking more and more loudly.  When I finally left the tavern, I ran to my house on the edge of town.  I didn’t want to be within a hundred feet of that man.
    I threw open the door after unlocking it and slammed it behind me.  I leaned heavily against the door breathing hard.  For some reason, I still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread I had felt in that man’s presence.  It was as if it had followed me here.  I locked the door behind me out of paranoia, maybe, then slowly walked into the kitchen, looking for some water to pour down my dry throat.
    To my utter dismay, and extreme fright, the man stepped out from behind the kitchen door only five feet in front of me.  I jumped back, terrified and ready to run.  I bit my lip in terror, but stood firm.  We stood there for a full minute, him with his piercing black eyes and uncomfortable smirk and me with my eyes wide and bleeding lip.
    “Wh-wh-who ar-re y-y-you?”  I stammered.
    “I’m the guy who’s gonna take away your pain.”  He said in an eerily uncomfortable rasping voice.
    “Wh-what p-pain?”
    “You know what it is.”  He looked up.  “It’s your life!”
    At that, I could hold it in no longer and ran.  I ran for the front door and fumbled with the keys, trying to get out.
    “It won’t do you any good, y’know.”  His voice approached.
    I got even more frantic than ever as I heard his heavy boots moving my way.  I glanced over my shoulder and nearly jumped out of my skin.  He was standing right behind me, his eyes level with mine and his disgusting smirk glaring at me.  I tried to move away, but was held in place by some invisible force.  I struggled against it, but only got myself tangled more and more.  When I was totally immobilized, the man took one step back, pulled a Colt revolver out of its holster, cocked it, and pointed it at my head.
    “Bye, bye.” he said waving with his other hand.
    I woke up panting and screaming in my own bed at home.  It had all been a dream.  I tried to move and found that my sheets had wound themselves around me forming a cocoon.  I breathed a sigh of relief and began to unwind myself.  Suddenly, I heard a heavy boot hit the ground beside the bed.  I turned and saw the man there pointing his revolver at my head.  My eyes went wide.
    “Bye, bye.” He said pulling the trigger.

Terror

    The darkness presses in around me.  I’m lying in my bed shivering in fear at the blackness of my room.  Even though I’ve been in the same room countless times before, this fear always grips me at night.  At night everything looks different.  I can imagine things moving and staring at me once my back is turned.
    Why do I feel like this?  What have I done to deserve this affliction?  It is true that at one point I was not afraid of the dark.  In fact, I have never been afraid of the dark, that is, until It happened.  “What happened?”  You may ask.  I will tell you, but I must warn you that it is not a pretty fairy tale or beautiful story.  It is a story of dread and sorrow.
    I grew up as the child of a lord of a certain province.  He was by no means powerful and he owed his allegiance to many a lord over him.  I say I grew up as one of his children because I was not really.  My parents, subjects of this lord, died of a sickness while I was still an infant.  The lord took me in as his own child to maintain a good image among the rest of his people.  I did not mind in the least when I found out.  I was treated well and could not complain of my upbringing.
    When I was old enough to learn to wield weapons, I learned alongside the lord’s own son.  I soon mastered the ability and bested any opponent before me.  At that point, I knew I wold become a warrior.  There was never any doubt in my mind.
    The years passed and I became a great warrior, renowned throughout the land.  I had ridden with the King’s army and had proved myself over and over.  Soon, I was hailed a champion and was admitted as one of the King’s elite guard.  Needless to say, I was elated when I received the news.  I accepted readily and gathered my things to go immediately.
    While in the service of the King, I gained even greater renown.  Me, who had been born of humble subjects of a petty lord, was considered the greatest warrior alive.  The King, marking my skill and knowledge of battle, gave me lands of my own.  I became a lord with a large army of men at my command.
    Oh, but that was my downfall.  I grew proud of my abilities.  I grew haughty and arrogant.  I despised the common people that were my subjects, even though I had been one of them in my childhood.  I grew to be a tyrant, but a prosperous tyrant, for a time.
    Years passed in this manner.  I grew wealthy with the land given me and I grew ever more arrogant.  At times I would ride to aid the King in his wars, but I was not often called upon.  There was peace in the land for a long time.  The arrogance and pride I held for myself and my realm were my downfall.
    One day, as I observed my realm and held council with my chiefs, a rider came to my house and asked to come before me.  I admitted him and offered him food and drink, both of which he refused graciously.  He told me that he was a messenger from the King.  The King bade me come to him with my men to fight.  There was trouble brewing on the southern borders.
    I readily agreed and sent the messenger back to the King with my answer. It had been long since I had fought any war.  It was about time.  I quickly made the preparations and rallied my army.  Two days after the messenger left, my army and I took to the road.
    We rode to meet the King at the place the messenger had said.  We saw nothing of any trouble on the way, in fact, everything looked blissful.  I did not remark on this because I was too preoccupied with my pride.  We rode for three days without any resistance.  Because of this, I did not bother setting a guard during the night.  If I had been paying attention, I would have noticed that the settlements were abandoned and the land silent.
    But, oh so great was my pride that I deemed myself invincible.  That fateful night, everything changed.  That night my life was so altered and my life defeated.
    Everyone was asleep and the cooking fires had died down when it happened.  A great roar came from all around our camp.  We awoke quickly and reached for our weapons, but it was too late.  The enemy had come upon us unawares in the night.  They flew into the camp slaughtering anyone the saw.  The entire camp was killed.
    Only one man survived: me.  My tent had been set up a ways from the camp to avoid the common men under me.  My arrogance made me separate myself from my men.  Now I know it was a mistake.
    When I heard the battle cry, I ran out of my tent, gripping my sword in front of me only to find the enemy charging through the camp.  I saw my men being slaughtered where they stood.  Burning with fury, I charged towards the camp.  By the time I got there, though, the enemy had left, without leaving anyone alive in the camp.
    I walked among the men there and stared into their eyes.  They were all faces full of fear and anger.  I could not bear the sight of them, but neither could I tear my eyes from them.  In the midst of this grisly sight, I saw a robed figure moving towards me.  The figure leaned on a staff made from oak wood that was at least as tall as he was.
    He hailed me across the field and I could not find it in myself to answer.  My men were strewn dead around me.  The figure came to me and pulled of his hood.  I saw that it was an old man.  His white beard and hair were full, even though he must have been older than any man still alive.
    His eyes stared at me with disgust and anger.  What had I done to deserve such hatred?  I asked him this and he answered.  Oh yes.  He answered very carefully.
    “What have you done?”  His croaking voice began.  “Why have you deserted your men?  They lie here, blood pooling in the dirt, yet you are not dead.  Why did you not come to their rescue?  Why did you let them die in this fashion?
    “You arrogant fool!  You have been blinded by your pride and have forgotten your roots!  Remember, Fool; remember your past!  You are not worthy to wield the title of lord any longer!  Your arrogance has been your bane!
    “This curse I place upon you.  You will return to your house, yet you will not be at rest.  During the day, you will be as you always were.  At night, however, you will change.  A deep fear, nay, a profound terror will overcome you.  You will see the men who have died this night before you every night, begging for your mercy.  Their ghosts will harass you ceaselessly from sunset to sunrise.  There will never be any rest for you.”
    So it has been.  I returned to my home, sad and dejected.  During the day, I am normal as always, if not exhausted.  The widows of the men that had died, demanded recompense, and I gave it to them, knowing they would need it more than I.  At sunset, the slain men appear to me, grasping my clothing with their cold hands.  Their dead eyes stare at me begging for mercy.  I feel a terror unlike any other take hold of me when this happens.  I cannot do anything to prevent it.
    Because of this terror, I have forsaken my realm.  My people have left me to my terrors.  They have all gone, leaving me alone in the darkness.
    I do not reckon the passing of time.  How long has it been since that fateful night?  I do not know.  It feels like eons, yet I know that a year has not yet passed.  Life as I once knew it has died.  I am forsaken and alone and destined to be that way until I die.  Even though this curse be lifted from me, I will always fear the darkness and what it will bring.  I will never recover from this.
    I now know it was my arrogance and pride that made this happen, but I will not have a chance to amend things.  I am wasted.  I am ready to die.  I know that I will die soon and have to face the judgement for my wrongs.  There is no way to avoid this.
    I fear the dark.  I always will.  Though the curse be lifted, I will always fear he dark.  Unfortunately, the dark is all I am fit for.  I deserve every moment of this curse.  It is a just punishment for everything I have done wrong.

The Eagle

    Standing on the edge of that sheer coastal cliff, I heard the waves crashing against its base.  The green grass on the cliff’s edge was soft under my bare feet that day.  I stood gazing out at the endless ocean spread out before me.  The beauty of God’s creation overwhelmed me.
    I looked up at the blue sky and saw a golden eagle circling high above.  He was the largest animal I had ever seen, and he was coming steadily closer.  For some strange reason, I began to feel guilty of everything I had done.  The eagle kept coming lower and closer.
    I fell to my knees crying over my guilt.  I was unworthy of God’s love.  I had completely rejected him.  The eagle finally landed in front of me, shaking the earth with his weight.  I didn’t dare look up.  He was a messenger from God to me to shame me for my sin.
    Finally, when he didn’t do anything, I looked up at the amazing creature.  It was a rich golden brown color and its beak and talons seemed to be made out of pure gold.  Its eyes were a startling blue, in complete contrast to the rest of the colors.  Its whole being seemed to shine with a light all its own.
    It turned its head and looked at me piercingly with a brilliant blue eye.  I hung my head in shame and began to cry again.  I could think of nothing else but my guilt and shame.
    When I finally dared to look up again, the eagle was gone.  In its place stood a boy dressed in a white robe crying.  He walked over to where I was, hugged me, and began to cry.  I hugged him back, trying to console him and comfort him a little.  We sat that way, hugging and crying with our eyes closed, for a couple of minutes.
    I heard a rustling all around us after we stayed there for a little bit.  I opened my eyes and looked up to see the eagle wrap his huge, powerful wings around us.  His piercing eyes were closed and there were tears on his cheeks.
    I can only imagine the sight of us on that cliff.  A grown man kneeling, hugging a crying child and crying himself, surrounded by the powerful wings of a gigantic golden eagle on the edge of cliff with golden mist flying in the air from the waves crashing far below.