the ghost of selene

7/28/2019 The Ghost of Selene

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Simon trotted the city outskirts in complete darkness, soaked with rainwater. He slipped from shadow

to shadow, avoiding lanterns and areas of strong moonlight. Nobody could see him visiting Drolta.

Her house leaned atop a dirt hill like a swollen on a pug nose. Her fence was about to fall over, with

cow skulls, dog skulls, rodent skulls and unrecognizable skulls adorning fence-posts. The gate hung

ajar beckoning him in.

Before taking his first step on her accursed property, he reached up and held the gilded cross at his

throat for a moment. Each time he touched it, he felt a direct connection to his dead wife Selene.Sometimes the cross tingled, as if she were trying to say something to him. Other times the cross

burned hot with her rage. Standing in front of Droltas house, he expected a reaction from Selene, but

apparently she had nothing to say just yet.

Simon said the prayer his mother had taught him: The light of god surrounds me. The light of god

enfolds me. The light of god protects me.

Across the yard from Simon, Drolta's front door creaked open, allowing dull orange light to spill out

over an impossibly tall woman standing in the door frame covered in a thick fur robe. Her face was

gaunt; skin stretched so tightly over cheekbones it looked ready to tear. Malnourished sticks protrudedfrom her sleeves, with just enough flesh clinging to them to be called human.

Stalking in the night are we? came the woman's voice. It's not kind to snoop.

Simon squinted at the woman, making a visor with his hand. Are you Drolta?

The woman took a few steps out from her house and stumbled. When her hand went out to catch therailing, her fur robe came apart, flashing a dehydrated breast. The horrible specimen pointed straight

down, with a wide black nipple that looked as if it might drip poison when milked. She quickly

recovered from her mishap though and pulled the fur back over her skin.

Of course I am Drolta, she said in an aggravated hurry, and you are Simon, so now we are

acquainted.

How do you know my name? We've never met!

Despite his effort, apprehension had cut through in his voice. He noticed other symptoms in Drolta's

presence as well such as: fingers turning into icicles, sweat prickling at his hairline, his cross necklace

tingling, his legs growing restless. Simon chewed the insides of his cheeks, to keep himself from crying

out.

How do I know you? Drolta knows every gods-be-damned thing there is to know. She don't have to

explain it, but if she tried, you wouldn't understand. So let it be known...that I...know? Yes. That soundsright.

Are you truly a witch then?

Drolta's head cocked in reaction, as if invisible hands had grabbed her by the chin and twisted. She

slowly repositioned her head, smiled and said, My, false news travels quickly doesn't it? Hmph. Drolta


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has been called worse things. She is only a woman; blood and bone, just like your wife used to be.

Simon felt a shock run through him. What?

Drolta grabbed a thick handful of silver hair and ruffled it over her shoulders. The strands fell, as limp

as silk, reflecting the moonlight as if they were made of mercury. That's the truth isn't it? Selene is

dead as a doornail. Dead as a stump. Dead as a...

Stop that! Simon yelled. He fingered his cross, squeezing until he the ornate designs pressed their

molds into his skin. You're a dirty fucking witch! You've got no right to talk about Selene like that!

Oh Drolta don't need to talk about Selene, Simon. Drolta can talk to Selene. That is why the spirits

dragged you here. You came because you could do no other thing, is that right?

Simon furrowed, loathe to let her back into civilized conversation with him.

Oh come now, words are transient, Drolta didn't mean to offend. Did you something compel you tocome here?

Well, I wanted to talk to Selene. I thought you might be able to help me. But if you're going to speakill of her, we'd better part.

Selene is with us right now Simon. You are interested in my talents but speaking to spirits is a costlyendeavor. You need to have the coin in hand first.

I have a little coin, just what I brought with me. Name your price. Simon felt the cross at his neck

tingle.

Empty your purse. You're the only tailor in Venslund; with money to spare if I'm not mistaken.

My wife is here with us right now then? Selene, right?

Selene's spirit is here.

Reluctantly, Simon reached toward his groin and sorted the three pouches he'd brought: one of many

coins, one of few coins, one made of flesh to confuse a thief. He grabbed the lighter pouch and untiedthe leather lace.

Here is what I can pay, Simon said. By now he was standing five feet from the witch Drolta. During

conversation he'd been inching forward at an almost unnoticeable pace. She had the right of it,something drew him in, probably a spell woven by her very fingers.

Speaking to spirits costs much. Can you pay more?

Simon made a confused face, one he'd used many times when making a sale. That's...all I have I

couldn't spare another cent.

Drolta stared without emotion. You're lying. You have a coin purse hanging beside your scrotum. Give

it to me.


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# # #

Drolta's notably bare home reminded Simon of a chicken coop. Warping floor boards left drafty cracksbetween them, making each step treacherous. Straw lay in mounds along the edges of the walls to

insulate from the cold. Lamps hung low enough to catch a forehead but high enough to produce little

usable light and they dripped oil continuously.

Take a seat, Drolta ordered, gliding off to stoke the fireplace. She held her robe shut as she crouched

and added a few damp birch logs. The fire spit and crackled angrily but she took an iron poker andshuffled the embers into a red-hot pile to settle it down.

Simon obeyed; he eased himself into a chair that balanced on three legs at a time. Which three touchedthe ground was his choosing and depended on which way he leaned.

With a flickering orange glow emanating from the fireplace, Drolta cast a long shadow across the floor.

She looked taller in this squat house, perhaps taller than Simon. Her shoulders slumped, making herarms hang lower than an average person, almost to her knees in fact.

Selene drowned in the Flamberge River, Drolta wove her fingers together at her waist, so for you tocontact her, you will need to visit the exact place where she fell through the ice.

Do I have to go out on the water?

You should. Drolta pulled open half a dozen drawers on a small chest, before settling on one and then

reached in and scooped out a handful of something. To speak with her, youll have to drop these

stones in the water as close to the place where Selene drowned as possible. The stones will glow theinstant they touch the water and then dissolve in about a minute.

So Selene will see the glow and come to it? How will these stones find her?

They wont. Selene will find the stones because when they dissolve, they produce a piercing sound

that only the dead may hear. You must understand however; every inch in our world is a league in theirworld. If you miss the spot by too much, the sound will be too soft and she may not respond to you.

Wait a second! I paid you to speak with Selene and there were no maybes involved. What if they dontwork, do I get my money back?

Drolta doesnt give refunds, but she will replace your stones so you may try again. They are very

expensive, so remember that I am generous and dont waste them.

Simon cupped his palms to accept the handful of jewels or stones or whatever Drolta offered him. The

polished orbs were terribly cold and covered in some kind of whitish powder.

Will they hurt me?

Drolta did not validate his question with a response. She dusted her hands of the stones as if glad to be

rid of them.


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The longer you keep these stones, the greater the burden becomes. Many spirits are drawn to the

stones whether activated or not. Youd better take them to the river on the morrow.

Simons cross burned as hot as hells embers. Shouldnt I take them to the river tonight? I dont wantspirits coming after me.

You could go now if you wanted. Selene would like that Im sure.

Simon felt a rock form in his throat. Selene would like to see him as soon as possible; he had no doubt

in that, but for what reason? Revenge was a good reason. Love was another good reason. Either seemedplausible and no man could know how the afterlife affected a womans emotions.

These spiritsthat follow the stones, can they harm me?

The spirits can do whatever they like. Theyll hurt you if you deserve it. Oh yes, theyll do terrible

things. Dont go out of your way to speak with them and dont ignore them if they speak to you. Follow

that rule and youll find that most spirits are benign.

Benign. Good.

Do you have a guilty conscience?

That question made Simon relive every cruel moment in his life: kicking a stray cat to death, breaking amans nose and teeth in a fight, cheating hundreds of customers out of their coin. Despicable as these

acts were, he doubted these would be the reason ghouls would choose to haunt him. He had one

particular deed that stood out in his mind like a black obelisk standing in a desert of ivory sand.

Selene must forgive him that. She had to. Every time he recalled the events leading up to that horrible

night, the cross burned his skin as if to remind him: You are a murderer Simon.

Well, Simon cleared his throat, I mustnt linger.

Best not. Drolta doesnt want you attracting abominations to her house. Go meet your wife again.

Simon left for the evening and pushed himself into a blurring sprint for the Flamberge River where

Selene had passed away. He ran because he mourned, but also he was afraid of what kind of undeadattention he may be attracting with those powdery stones the witch gave him. A large part of him

wanted to throw the stones away and never see them again, but morbid curiosity made him hold on.

Stumps, he leaped over daringly; branches, he crouched under stealthily; patches of damp moss, he slidunwillingly across, dancing to regain his balance. Simon relied on his memory and reflexes to guide

him through the dense forest to the precise spot where his wife drowned one summer ago. A loud

crashing in the brush caught his full attention and Simon spun around with dagger in-hand.

Somehow, under the moonlight, he felt as dangerous as any creature he may encounter. A silent man in

the darkness, clutching a dagger could cause quite a ruckus. He gritted his teeth and spread his legs intoa shoulder-distance stance.

A patch of grown-together shrubs were shaking. A black shape scooted out from the leaves and scurried


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up a tree, its long tale flailing behind. The streaking animal was nimble like a squirrel. It was anything

but a demon.

Simon sighed.

Hows that for a scare, he said aloud.

Simon continued sprinting. Mist stuck to his arms, around his collar and on his face, chilling him to the

point of numbness. There were better nights for this kind of thing, but his life couldnt have gone on

one more day without facing this; facing Selene. Most men didnt get a second chance to right theirwrongs. If Simon didnt know a witch, he would be just like all the others, thinking of a thousand

things he would say to Selene if he ever spoke to her again.

The sound of rushing water raised his spirits and awareness. A pair of trees leaned into one and other,

their long limbs draped down together, but leaving a small gap where the white froth of the Flamberge

River could be spotted a few yards behind. Moonlight glinted off the violent spray of the rapids.

With one swipe of his dagger, the leaves fell to the ground and cleared the way. Simon climbed through

the gap and stepped gingerly along the bank of the river. The clouds cleared overhead and moonlight

spilled down. His skin prickled.

Mud on the bank slid inward, pulling his leg into the water. He leaned back and pulled his leg out but

the mud sucked his boot off. With his other foot, he managed to keep his boot in turn he lost hisbalance. Simon fell headlong into the rushing water.

On impact he expected to feel water, but his forehead struck a boulder and he saw starbursts. He

slipped into a daze as his body set into motion. Tiny blurs of blue light illuminated the water. Theirsparkle faded as fast as it came and as he became more aware of himself, he realized the danger he was

in: The Flamberges angry current was dragging him against the river bottom, grinding his body against

sharp stones.

Simon grappled for any handhold. He pushed against the bottom, trying to break out of rivers tow.

Then a tangle of branches underwater netted him. The current tried to pull him through the branchesbut his body wouldnt fit and pressure pinned him to the branches; his head could not reach the surface.

Water blasted up his nose and into his open eyes. Simon accidentally screamed, which came out in

muffled bubbles. The air he just wasted might be his last breath. Rivers didnt magically change courseand he didnt have any more strength to try and escape.

Now, in his last seconds of life, Simon he realized what the glowing indigo light was in the water:

Droltas cursed stones had fallen out of his pocket underwater. Had they fallen close enough to theplace where Selene drowned, she could save him, her ghost that is. If she heard the signal, as Drolta

had explained, she might come!

Simon fought the urge to inhale frigid river water. His lungs burned and screamed for nourishment. His

arm hung at the edge of a log, feeling like the strength of the current could break it off at the elbow. If

he would just take that breath of water, he could leave this whole nightmare behind. He could speak toSelene in the afterlife. Perhaps shed be more inclined to forgive him if he subjected himself to the

same death as her.


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Wooden hands grabbed him by the shoulders and interrupted his death. Fingers pressed into his skin

with surprising strength and yanked him up until his head pierced the surface of the water and he could

see the moon again. Simon gasped.

The hands could only be Selenes. He felt cool grass under his back and coughed. Water sprayed from

his nostrils and mouth, though he didnt remember drinking any. Selene grabbed his chin and wrenched

his head sideways, which forced him spit up the rest of the water hed inhaled.

These fingers felt sharp and cold. He started to worry that it had not been Selene that pulled him from

the water but his saviors face was hooded and couldnt be seen. There was no love in the touch; butthat could still be Selene, for she might not love him anymore.

An open mouth descended on his face to help him breath. In transit, the saviors hood fell off andSimon recognized the pale face of Drolta the witch. He sat up in alarm before her mouth could contact

his and in the pale light she looked as wicked as ever before.

What? Simon gagged and spit water.

Breathe. Can you breathe? Drolta huffed.

Simon tested his lungs with a deep inhalation that made his throat tickle. He held his hand out and

nodded to her to indicate that he could. Anything to stop a kiss from Drolta was worthwhile, even

drowning in his own lungs. Itd be better to be left in the water than to taste that rotting mouth of hers.

Thats good. Keep taking deep breaths and clear out all the water. Drolta pat his back in rhythmic

thumps.

Although he had questions, Simon could do nothing but obey; he needed to clear his airway to survive.

Amidst rasping and gagging, a glowing shape appeared behind the trees in the distance. Spears of lightso painfully brightfanned out from a central shape of a woman whose figure matched Selenes.

Simon used his peripheral vision to gaze upon her. Looking directly at the light would hurt, but alsoleave him night-blind in a forest potential specters and witches.

Drolta noticed the light too. She dropped her hand from Simons shoulder and ran out to meet thefigure, dodging trees and brambles. The figure passed through trees with ease, maintaining a straight,

narrow path toward Simon. Selenes face formed in the figure, every detail precise. It was as if the light

were a liquid statue, carved with precision.

Dear Selene, Drolta shouted with obvious fear, Ive got him. I caught him for you. I even brought

him back from the river so you couldhave him alive.

The voice of the lighted figure was not Selenes. Two dissonant tones twined together to form a

snakelike hiss. So what? You want a reward? said Selene's ghoul. This is no business of yours now.

Go away.

Of course! Take him; he is yours.


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Simon grabbed Drolta by the shoulders and slammed her to the ground.

What is this? That's not my wife!

Drolta was no longer present. Her eyes widened into brown terrified orbs. Simon was no more than an

obstacle to be overcome in order to escape.

The idea of being tricked had Simon frightened and livid at the same time. He took the witch by her

silver strands of hair and yanked her head back. Stop her! he shouted to the witch.

I...cough...cough...can't. She's here for you.

God damn it. Stop her!

Shes here for you, let me go!

I want my wife. Send your ghoul back.

The glowing specter hovered through trees and shrubs, until her glow illuminated the night to day. Her

face was a ghoulish, twisted mask of what Selene's used to be. Ghastly water poured from the cornersof her lips and proceeded to leak down her neck and then traversed the contours of her bare, sagging

breasts. She looked like a decaying corpse, pieced together just enough to be recognizable.

Simon, she called in a sad tone, I've been waiting for you.

Simon grabbed his dagger and pressed it into Drolta's throat. Selene, stop. We can talk. But if...you

take another step...I'll...

Selene was floating, not stepping. She didnt seem to value Droltas life in the least, rendering his

hostage useless.

Drolta squirmed against the blade, causing a bead of blood to form. She started to shake and speak

hysterical rants. Simon pulled the blade away from her to keep from cutting her own throat. He didn'treally want to kill her. Hed learned to cost of taking a life and hed rather die himself.

The witch felt the absence of the blade and squirmed to freedom. She sprinted a few yards and thencaught her foot on a vine and sprawled into the brush. She turned around and yelled, Selene, you have

him. Our deal is done!

After that, Simon never saw Drolta again. The glow of light from Selene's specter blinded him to all buther ominous presence.

My sweet Simon, she said in her snake's voice. Why have you come back to me?

I have come to apologize. I shouldn't have done it, Simon cried, I thought you were unfaithful. I was

hurt! II

Hurt? Her demonic voice cut him short. What do you know of hurt? I loved you, up until my last

breath of river water. I loved you every day of my short life. You held my head underwater.


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Tears streaked his face. No words could suffice. Simon finally had what he had wished for all along,

punishment for his crime. I didnt mean to kill you, just punish you. You know? For sexing Illiad. I

thought you really had done it.

It would make little difference if I had. I wouldnt have deserved this, Simon. You are a jealous fool.

Her pale hand lashed out and snapped around the back of his neck like a viper. Such strength, he could

never slip free from her grip.

Just tell me, he whined as she dragged him to the river's edge. When th...this is over. Can you love

me again? Can we be together?

Selene didn't reply. Her hand squeezed him with ghoulish strength and forced his face underwater. She

ground his flesh back and forth over the rocks. Her body was an anvil his back, giving him no room to

struggle, nor did he try. Simon heard his teeth grinding against sandy river bottom, and inhaled.

the ghost of selene

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