Damian

Tradurre 13 anni fa

The Skull A dark and dreary day of sorrow and gray, with a man grieving his lover’s death. How he wished he felt her final breath; his absence an untimely regret. He was too busy mending the sick of influenza, with his drill and arsenic. Upon his walk through the city’s streets he felt the drizzle of the rain. He slowly walked down the street. As he pondered, his feet clapped on the cobblestones. The doctor had felt dizzy and faint, and lost his step, falling to the floor. He staggered to his feet, only to the sight of an old peasant woman. She was old, with the face of struggle and pain; her features ugly and petrifying in the twilight of the night. She let out a hoarse cry, “My dear, so young yet so weak. Those who are clumsy pay with their vitality. Beware for ignorance paves the way for misfortunes.” The doctor, flimsy with confusion, wiped drops of blood from the corner of his head. “Boy, you need rest,” the woman staggered “take this for your troubles.” She stashed a parchment of cloth in his coat pocket. The lights of the street grew dim and the doctor hurried home; leaving the woman with a lingering eye at the end of the street. Once home, the man threw himself on his chair, slowly closing his eyes and releasing one long breath. He reached for his pocket and drew an object that of which drew horror. A skull, old and feeble, polished with slime and spine-chilling to the touch. Upon feeling the crevices and rough texture of the skull, a fierce wind started to howl. Loud thunder and blinding lightening ravaged the country. The doctor went to close the window, but when he looked past it, he saw a tall dark figure standing in his direction. The vibrant lights that filled the city’s streets faded as the entity started walking towards him. Struck by trepidation and terror, the doctor shut the window and closed the blinds. Almost immediately he heard a knock at the door. The knock seemed hollow as it traveled through the echoes of the house. Slowly the doctor began to approach the door feeling his chest heavier with every step. The sound of his feet clapping on the floorboards came to a silent and long pause before the door. The doctor opened the door with a long, lasting, eerie creak. However, when he looked past the frame he saw that nothing stood there. Lighting and thunder shook the house, as he stood staring outside. He closed the door, and with a long breath of relief turned around to see the same dark figure sitting in his chair, in the illumination of the stormy night. With each flash of light, the doctor could see the shady figure and the pools of black in the air. With a scratchy and almost gaggling voice, the creature spoke, “Hello, doctor.” Struck with fear, the man had to overcome the paralyzing effect which had been cast upon him. After much silence the man replied, “What do you want with me?” With the raise of his arm towards the moonlight, the doctor saw his hands of bone. The creature raised one crackling finger and pointed to the skull in the doctor’s hand. Immediately, the man threw the skull in the creature’s direction. It went swerving through the dark figure, and crashed into the wall, breaking into pieces. “Don’t be hasty,” the creature said “after all, that skull has brought many people good luck.” The man sharply replied, “What are you talking about?” The creature calmly said, “Please sit down, and I shall tell you what I mean.” Ushered to the chair he sat upon a few minutes ago, it felt peculiarly cold. “This skull, upon whomever it shall cross, will grant happiness and good fortune to all,” the creature announced. “The first is a story of a man whom fought in the Russian War. How desperate and cowardly he was. He was drafted and sent to the east. However, he could not stand #life in the military.” Enveloped in the creature’s story, the man asked, “So what did he do?” “He fled of course. But the Russian winter got to him. He was stranded in a blizzard for a long time, but that was when he found that skull buried in the snow. Shortly afterwards, through the act of a miracle, stumbled upon a Russian cabin where he was safe from the death of the cold.” “You mean to say that the skull saved him?” the man asked “that is of mere coincidence.” The figure hesitated and said, “Perhaps this next one shall enlighten you, doctor. A women living in the country, single mother of eight destitute and pitiful, nonetheless a victim of the Great Panic. The skull came to her on the east side of the shore. Curious to see if she could sell it, she wrapped it in her rags and shoved it in her dress. Upon walking a few feet, she found gold bullion. Immediately she traveled to London and engulfed in high #life found a man to take her and her children in.” The doctor gave an interesting look and argued, “Perhaps. However how do I know you speak the truth?” “Maybe this story shall be more familiar to you,” the creature replied. “A woman, beautiful and young living, in the north, a fantastic #life. However, she was papist. When the clergy found out they deemed her a witch, and blamed it on her unnatural beauty. She was sentenced to burn. However, with the arrival of that skull, she transformed into a hideous hag and could flee the countryside to travel south.” Quiet with thought, the doctor asked, “How do you know these stories? Are you the one responsible for these miracles?” “No,” the creature stated “you must understand that with a #life of material bliss, comes the consequences of human greed and ignorance. These people, no more human than you, have faults and had to pay.” “Who are you? the doctor asked. “You know who I am,” the creature responded “I dwell in man’s nightmares and tales. Humanity is embarrassed and denounces me; however, I am your greatest friend. There is no more happiness and wealth than that of what I can give you, unlike that skull. The miracle is not what happened to these people by the skull, but of what happened afterwards.” The man sat in silence for a long time. He thought and wondered, as a slow smile traveled through his pale face. With the storm coming to an end, the creature departed and left the doctor sitting in his chair. The next morning a pair of constables knocked on the doctor’s door. With a long creak the door opened wide. The constables found the young man sitting in his chair, tranquil but cold. “Poor man’s dead,” one of them said. They immediately searched his body for his documents, but in his coat pocket they found a parchment of cloth neatly folded. One of the men opened it and declared, “Gee, what would a lad like him do with all these broken bones?” “Aye, I don’t know,” the other said “but it’s a shame he died so quickly. He didn’t even get a chance to close his window before the storm.”