Take Me to the Moon 7.11
I must leave this place or I fear I will forever lose my grip on what is real.
After meeting the mistress of the castle last night, she left me in her private drawing room. Not sure if I should return to my room, I looked for something to occupy my time until she returned for me.
I found this letter, dated recently and addressed to my host.
Absinthe, dark sister,
I beseech you, do not proceed with this plan. You desire physical as well as spiritual offspring, I realize that, but consider the life to which you are dooming this newly formed creature you imagine will be an entertaining pet or charming trinket for your own enjoyment. Whether he or she will be undead or living is unknown and impossible for you to control; either way, you will bring another creature at extreme disadvantage into the world.
And what do you envision to be your role in your child’s development? You, whose attention span and restraint is non-existent, to be responsible for another being’s welfare for an undetermined period of time? Do not bring another into the world when suffering is so likely to be the predominant reality of its existence… admittedly, being privy to the suffering of others is an intoxicant to you, but consider, you know not what it is to be psychically connected to another in this way. I wager your exultation in this case will not be what you anticipate.
Moreover, I stand ready to defend my position with action and will do all in my power to stop you.
Have I stumbled upon a clan of mad persons, who have no keepers? Who is this Caleb? And what offspring does he speak of? And what does “undead” mean?! Although this all seems patently absurd, I find I can not dismiss it.
Could Absinthe’s determination to bear a child have anything to do with my dreams, which of late, feature her prominently, seducing and submitting me to her will? Perhaps they are not dreams, but reality.
I commanded myself to shake this off, realizing it was obviously the raving of lunatics. Hopeful of getting a good night’s sleep, I retired.
However, my dreams continued to be disturbed and lustful, and become more fantastical.
When she came to me this time, I knew her. She was Absinthe. She hungrily feasted on my blood.
I was filled with exhaustion and exhilaration; disgust, and desire. At some point, she also appeared at my bed.
I awoke a few hours before dawn to dizziness. After bathing and drinking water, I resolved to get a better bearing on my surroundings, identify a few pieces of art I could take with me, and leave this place.
After what seemed to be hours, I found myself to be completely lost in the castle. I made my way through a winding staircase which was obscured behind a shelf in the study.
Winding through long, subterranean tunnels, I came into what appeared to be the family crypt, with coffins, tombstones, and urns spread about. My phone, which has been offline since arriving, unable to find a signal, read 6:30 AM, but being underground, I could not see the light that must have been beginning to pierce the sky.
A mist swirled through the room.
Suddenly, a coffin opened and Absinthe appeared before me, standing in it.
I backed away, as if from a crouched tiger.
She gave me a piercing stare, and then lowered herself, like a stiff corpse with a blank face, till she was lying as if on a death bed.
It seems she has no fear of me or anything I could do to her.
After the lid slammed shut, I tried to open it, as if to confirm what I’d just seen.
When I realized it was impossible to open it without tools, I began to look around frantically for something to wedge in it, although I can’t tell you now what I planned to do when I pried it open.
As I rummaged around the clutter in the corner, I noticed the inscription on a vase which looked newer than the others, a cremation urn with a gargoyle like bat creature on top.
It read “Remains of Caleb Vatore.”
The very same author of the letter, warning Absinthe he would oppose her plan, now clearly, dead , with his urn decorating her crypt.