The Soul Stealer

17. August 2016 Tales 2
The Soul Stealer

He closed his book, laid it on the table and took his teacup. He took some sips of the delicious tea, feeling how the hot liquid comforted him going down his throat. He rose from his seat and walked to the large window, and then he pulled one of the heavy curtains and secured it to the side, tying it with a thick golden cord that was attached to the wall. He leaned on the glass and taking another sip of his tea he watched the darkness of the night outside.

 

The glass was cold, but as it was raining the fogging has not reach it in spite of the remarkable difference in temperature. The rain was falling heavily emitting its characteristic sound, which was interrupted by the reply of the bells of a nearby church that sounded indicating the arrival of midnight. The lampposts futilely tried to illuminate the streets, but the heavy rain swallowed all its light and the city became lost inside a thick fog that glowed with a yellowish shine, dyed by the light emitted by the lampposts inside. A couple of guards made their patrols on the street despite the bad weather. He watched without interest what was happening in the streets and finally he raised his view, fixing it in the dark sky. It was the darkest hour of that cold night and although it was close to full moon, the night sky was as black as ebony, for the storm clouds blocked the moonlight. He sighed deeply longing for the silvery moonlight and finally turned away from the window, closing the curtains again. He walked to the desk and gently set his teacup beside the candelabrum that was lit over it, which was identical to the one that was on the table beside his seat. He sat on the chair and bended down opening one of the drawers of the desk. He took all objects from the drawer, leaving them haphazardly on the table, and when he had emptied it completely hit at its base, thereby opening a secret compartment in which there was a small book. With this mysterious book in hand he walked to the fragment of the bookshelf which was right behind his back and grabbed a book off it, introducing in its place the one he had brought from the secret compartment of the desktop. After doing so he turned back and returned to the desk. Behind him the huge shelf she creaked dully and a fragment of it separated from the rest, turning heavily ninety degrees, giving way to a dark secret passage. He picked up his teacup and the candelabra standing beside it on the desktop and went into the dark passage. He walked through a short narrow stone corridor, which was lit only by the candles he was carrying, until he reached a locked door. Next to that rocky door the wall formed a straight ledge, where he placed his candelabra, and with his free hand he pulled out an adorned golden key that he was carrying hung on his neck. He opened the heavy door and stepped inside the hidden chamber. The darkness in that room was even deeper than the darkness of a moonless night, since the light of the candelabra was only able to illuminate a few steps around him. However, he didn’t need the light to move around because he knew that chamber better than the palm of hand.

 

In the middle of the hidden room there was a large wooden table, over it the was a huge and ancient opened book, its pages covered by bizarre drawings and signs next to a text written in a forbidden and forgotten language. The book was surrounded by tons of untidy papers. Several daggers were stabbed on the table, piercing its carefully polished surface, and in a corner there was a human skull preserved in a perfect condition. He left the candelabra and the teacup over the table, next to the skull, and plunged into the darkness of the room. When he came out he was carrying on his hands two small glass jars tightly sealed. One of them was filled with a thick and dark red liquid, and the other had inside something that faintly shone with a pure white light. He put the shining bottle on the tabled and opened the other one, pouring its content into his teacup; afterwards he did the same with the other bottle. That which was on the second jar fell to the bottom of the cup and sparkled as if it was a solitary star in the middle of the dark sky, but he stirred the contents of his cup with a teaspoon undoing that tiny glowing ball. He drunk the content of his cup in one single gulp and without wasting time he left the chamber taking the teacup and the candelabra. And, leaving everything as it was before, he left the library. The chimney fire extinguished and chamber went dark, hiding inside its terrible secret.


thoughts on2

  • 1
    Stefano on Wednesday August 17th, 2016 Reply

    Eres linda hasta para escribir ??

    Ahora bien, me he imaginado esto en una secuencia cinematográfica estilo las de hoy en día, en la que los maravillosos guionistas decidirán que vende más hacerle bailar una conga sobre un triciclo motorizado MUY ruidoso mientras efectúa todo lo que has descrito con tanto detalle.

    Tsss, ya sabes, ¡guionistas!

    Me fui por las ramas. Vuelvo a lo que estaba: ¡hermosa!

    • 2
      moonlight lady on Sunday August 28th, 2016 Reply

      jajaja Me he hecho la imagen en mi cabeza, sería gracioso aunque para matarlos y mandarlos directivos al infierno.
      Por cierto, muchas gracias ^-^

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