Well, that makes four of my true creepy stories that people have read on YouTube.
Thank you to the YouTube channels Lettuce Mcgrims, Miss Night Terror, and TheDarkroom for reading my stories. Be sure to check out their channels and subscribe to them so you will won’t miss out on their great content.
Here are the links to the videos along with the links to the original posts.
Summary: Naya waits in a local cafe for a niece she has not seen since her sudden disappearance long ago. When she is finally reunited with the beloved family member she views as a daughter, she learns about the nature of her disappearance which leads her to some shocking realizations of her own.
“On a cob web afternoon, In a room full of emptiness, By a freeway I confess, I was lost in the pages of a book full of death; Reading how we’ll die alone. And if we’re good we’ll lay to rest, Anywhere we want to go.”
-Like A Stone, Audioslave
Naya waited in a local cafe situated above one of the many subway stations that cut their way beneath downtown New York. It seemed like she had been waiting forever for her beloved niece Avery to arrive. It had been so long since she’d seen her niece that…no, she didn’t want to think about how lonely she had been without her. She didn’t want to remember the day that Avery had left her those many years ago.
Avery had come to live with Naya at the age of three when her own mother could no longer take care of her. Naya’s sister Helen had struggled with her alcohol addiction for years. Naya always had the feeling she’d end up raising her niece one day if Helen didn’t clean up her act and she was right. She claimed the custody of her niece when she was three years old, under the instruction of a city attorney. Somehow her niece had gone missing from her life after only two years of raising her as her own child. Little Avery was only five years old when she disappeared into the vast oceans of people and buildings that gave New York its reputation of swallowing faint hearted people alive. Naya’s sister never forgave her for losing sight of her.
New York is a big city. Many items have been lost to its streets, parks, and alleys never to be recovered. It was a city where things and people disappeared in a flash of a second and neither was easily found. Despite this fact, Naya always thought she would find Avery. She always hoped she would see her playing outside one of the downtown shops when she was running errands for the law firm she worked at. Avery would run up to her giggling and Naya would take her home to her apartment where she would make sure that she would never lose sight of her again. She always imagined that she could see her when she took long strolls in Central Park, engrossed in thoughts about the times they once shared together.
Now, Naya was so mixed up inside. She didn’t know whether she was happy or frightened to see the person she loved like a daughter again after four years of being apart. Little Avery would be nine years old now. One of the regulars of the café told her that she saw her niece hanging around the lobby a few days ago. Naya had posted her picture on the walls with her name and address in the hope that someone would find her. Avery looked older, but the man who found her niece said he would have recognized her facial features anywhere from the pictures she had posted.
Naya came to the cafe every night since the regular had told her the details of her niece’s whereabouts in the hope of finding her again. She would do anything to have her niece in her arms after spending so many years apart. She was tired of living her life alone. She was tired of the guilt that she had been lugging around for five years from losing her. Her sister’s inebriated curse words stuck out the most in her mind.
“I hate that you are my sister. I hate you more than anyone. Damn you. I hope you rot in hell.”
The drunken words Helen screamed at her the night her daughter went missing often played over and over like a broken record in Naya’s mind. They made her hate herself more and more the longer she was apart from her niece. They made her want to curl up somewhere and let herself waste away to nothing. She had felt worthless ever since she heard had them. She could not face her sister ever since the loss in both of their lives had taken place.
Tonight, the service was slow and when the waitress did speak to her, the young woman with red hair pulled into a ponytail told her that she would meet her niece soon. Naya had talked to the regular at the café who had originally seen her niece and said that she had also seen Avery playing by the subway a few times as well. The regular at the cafe insisted that she had seen Avery hanging around these parts since last August, but Naya had yet to see her walk through the glass doors of the small establishment. She had been waiting for her niece to show up for a while now and had somehow found the courage to pull herself out of her depressive haze, if only for a while, at the prospect of seeing Avery walk through the front entrance. Perhaps this evening would be the moment when she could finally own up to the fact that there were some things in this world that were out of her hands and could not be faced alone.
She couldn’t explain why she was waiting here; she felt completely disoriented. One minute she was driving home and the next moment…she wasn’t sure what happened. Naya assumed that she had stopped at this place because she knew Avery would be here. Maybe she possessed some kind of ESP. Naya remembered that her sister told her once that all aunts have psychic abilities that tell them when their family needs them most. That was one of the many things that make aunts special.
Helen had told her that gem of wisdom before Avery had gone missing from their lives. Naya knew that her sister would say that all family is worthless if they had the same conversation these days. Helen lost her last reason to retain some sort of sanity in her life when her daughter went missing. She started knocking back eight beers a night. The last time Naya heard anything about her, she was serving time in the State penitentiary for being caught drunk behind the wheel for the third time.
Naya kept drawing a complete blank. She knew that she couldn’t be dreaming. She felt the warm air of a heater on a nearby table blowing in her face. This had to be real. She couldn’t remember when she had showed up to the cafe. There were other people sitting next to her table. Some were sitting by themselves, looking out the window facing out onto Twelfth Avenue deep in thought. Others are laughing with old acquaintances.
It made Naya wish that her niece was sitting at the table with her. After she pictured Avery’s brown curly hair and blue eyes in her mind she saw her walk through the door of the café like a vision come to life. All Naya could feel was a combination of relief and excitement. Avery began to talk to her but she did not hear the words. An overwhelming feeling of happiness overtook her body. Naya finally worked up the courage to give her niece one of her famous “Aunty Naya” hugs, ignoring what she had just told her. She smiled and took Naya’s hand.
“Don’t worry Aunt Naya; I’ll never leave you again,” She heard Avery say as Naya took her hand and lead her out of the café to the entrance of the nearby subway station.
After receiving a pair of tickets, the two hoped onto one of the subway trains together, holding each other’s hands. The subway seemed to travel down the set of old steel tracks for ages as it speed out of the city and cut through the rolling hills of a green valley. Small towns popped up every once in a while between each stretch of landscape Naya and Avery passed on the way to their final destination. On their way home to start a new life, Naya asked Avery where she had been all of those years.
“With dad,” Avery had replied.
“Dad took me back and made me live with him. I was so afraid to leave. But daddy said I would be all right. He took me to the place we are going. He told me you would probably be at the café if I met you at the right time. I wanted to be the first person to find you no matter what.”
Naya all at once felt very weak in the knees. Avery’s father had died a few months before she was born. Her niece had to be mistaken. Perhaps some man like her father had been taking care of her but…no that didn’t seem right. Naya stared down at her niece who was smiling up at her. A headache stared to form at the back of her head but everything was staring to become clearer now. It was the fact she had assumed that she’d stopped at the café on her way home from work that got her to thinking. Naya never remembered reaching the café in her car. It was as if she had just shown up there and started waiting for her niece to arrive.
It made little sense that they were taking the subway since Naya had supposedly showed up at the café in her car. And the two had no reason to be heading out of the city. Naya lived in an apartment not far from where the Café was situated. She just had to jump in her car and take the freeway to the downtown area and…the freeway. Another wave a pain shot through her head as she started to recall all of the moments leading up to sitting in the café.
She remembered that she was driving on the freeway, headed to meet with a café regular about a possible sighting of her niece. That is when a truck had started to tailgate her from behind. Frustrated, she had tried to go faster but the truck caught up with her again. This speeding game continued for a while until the truck became impatient and attempted to pass her on the side. But he didn’t have enough room and he ended up sliding into the side of her car.
The last thing she remembered was a tall, lanky man banging on her car window. He was yelling through the window, asking over and over if she was okay. She looked around her and saw that the car was turned upside-down. For some reason she couldn’t move any of her limbs. She could only hear the man saying that he had called for an ambulance and to hold on as everything had faded into darkness. And then she had ended up in that café, waiting for her niece like nothing had happened.
Naya felt her emotions wash over her like a wave. She put her arms around Avery and held her for what seemed like an eternity. Naya held her niece for so long that Avery had fallen sleep in her arms. Naya laid her niece gently on her lap to allow her to continue resting. She took her cellphone out of her purse after a while and scrolled through the list of names in her contact list to her sister’s cell phone number. She knew she couldn’t reach Helen by the number in her cellphone. Helen was locked up behind bars on account of her latest drinking incident and there was no way she could personally visit the State Prison to get any message about her daughter’s whereabouts to her now that she had passed on. Holding the cellphone in her hand, Naya left a single text message on her sister’s cellphone knowing she would probably never receive it.
It read, “I found Avery. You don’t have to worry anymore. I’m going to make sure that she is happy from now on.”
“If Helen is ever sober enough to get her cellphone privileges back, there is a chance she might finally know that I have reunited with her daughter. Maybe then she will be comforted knowing that I intend to care for Avery until it is her turn to return home,” Naya thought to herself as she slipped the cellphone into her purse and watched Avery sleep on her lap as the subway train pressed on far outside the boundaries of New York city limits.
After traveling for a few hours, the two of them finally reached their old home in the suburbs where the two of them had once lived before Naya moved to the city. She had rented a small apartment to have easier access to the café people had reported to see her niece hanging around. It was also within walking distance of her job. She thought about who would take care of her apartment now that she was gone. She wondered what would happen to all of her possessions. It was a strange feeling pondering everything that would happen after she was dead.
The subway reached the suburban area where Naya’s house had once been located. She assumed that it was her place to get off. She gently woke Avery and the two stepped off the subway onto the platform. The walked up to the street above and made their way to the house the two of them had once lived in.
As Naya stood at the iron large gates of the Victorian style house her niece and she lived in eight long years ago, she felt a tear slide down her cheek. It had taken many years, but Naya was finally reunited with the young girl she had always viewed as her own daughter. Her niece continued to hold her hand as the two of them walked through the large iron gates of the property to the house’s front yard. Naya smiled when she realized that from this day forward the two of them could live the rest of their lives out together in the place made of the landscape of their dreams.
It was a year before Helen was released from the state prison but she had heard about her sister’s death while she was still serving her time. The news had devastated her. She had once been angry at her sister for losing sight of Avery but now she couldn’t bring herself to be angry at her anymore. For the first time in her life she was able to accept some of the blame. If she had just been a better mother to Avery she would never been taken away to live with Naya. She could have prevented the disappearance of her daughter and the death of her sister. They had told her that Naya had been driving to follow up on a sighting someone had had of her niece at a downtown café. That was when the truck hit her car and she wasn’t able to hold onto to life before the medical team of paramedics arrived.
Helen had gone through an AA program when she was at the state prison and was now sober. Today was the first real time she had had to visit her sister’s grave. She was still locked up when the family had held the funeral. Although she could not make it, her mother had visited and brought photos and news of the event. Her mother had told her to think about how her actions led to everything that happened and begged her to start turning herself around before she was met with more tragedies in her life. Helen took her mother’s words to heart and had been working hard to stay sober and employed. Shortly after being released, she started working at a small flower shop near the café her sister used to frequent. She liked working there because flowers reminded her of her sister. Naya had had her own garden when she was still alive.
She rented the same apartment her sister lived in as it had fallen unoccupied after her death. She visited the café every day in hopes that she would find some news about her daughter.
It was an early Saturday afternoon when she took a taxi out to one of the inner-city gravesites to visit her sister’s final place of rest. She was carrying a bouquet of flowers from the shop she worked in. She had made it special for this occasion, with all of her sister’s favorite candies and even a stuffed bear she knew her sister would like if she was still alive.
When she reached the cemetery, she walked along the path until she saw the row her sister’s memorial was located in. She walked along the path of headstones until she saw her sister’s name carved on a stone that read, “In memory of Naya Stevens. A loving daughter, sister, aunt, and friend.”
She placed the bouquet of flowers at the base of the grave and had a moment of silence in honor of Naya. As she stood praying over her sister’s gravestone, she heard her cell phone’s ringtone blare from her back jean pocket.
“In your house I long to be; Room by room patiently, I’ll wait for you there like a stone. I’ll wait for you there alone.”
The familiar sound of the ringtone she had set for her text message notifications cut through the silence.
She considering taking her cellphone out and silencing it but something told her not to. The ringtone continued to play into the empty spaces around her.
“And on I read until the day was gone; And I sat in regret of all the things I’ve done; For all that I’ve blessed, and all that I’ve wronged. In dreams until my death, I will wander on.”
The ringtone finished its final pass. Then a sharp buzz sounded, letting her know that a text message had just been sent and was waiting for her to view it. Helen couldn’t explain why she felt so compelled to look at her cellphone. Even though she ignored most text messages when she was doing something important she felt as though she should read whatever text message was sent her way. She pulled the cell phone out of her pocket and read the text message that had set off her cell phone’s ringtone.
The message read, “I found Avery. You don’t have to worry anymore. I’m going to make sure that she is happy from now on.”
Helen put a hand to her mouth in shock. It was a message from her sister. It was dated the exact day and hour that she had died in the accident with the truck. At that moment something clicked inside of her, a deep rooted instinct of knowing that all of her deepest fears had come to pass. She somehow understood the meaning of her sister’s last words. She wasn’t going to see Avery again; not in this plain of living. Not until she crossed over into wherever death had taken two of the most cherished people in her life.
The realization that Naya and her daughter were together gave her a mixed sense of peace and sadness. She was at peace because she knew her sister would take care of her daughter in the afterlife but she was also sad that she would never see her daughter alive in this realm of existence again.
Helen sunk to the base of her sister’s grave grasping the cell phone in her hands. She held the cell phone close to her face with her sister’s last message displayed on the screen and wept at the base of her grave for what seemed like forever.
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This site is open to everyone to advertise whatever they like to draw traffic to their personal online websites and to network with other artistic people. The only thing I request is that you try to keep the posts safe for work as many different aged people view the site. Other than that, share whatever you want.
You may also post game projects, online stores, websites, and anything else that you want to raise awareness for or promote.
If anyone has a Kickstarter, Indigogo, GoFundMe, or other type of fundraiser that they want to raise awareness for, feel free to post links to them on the site.
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The moon was full in the sky,
All children, men and women were in their beds,
When the strange traveler came to town,
Wearing a crown of roses on her head.
The traveler wore a dark red cape,
Uncommon for the times,
A black dress that buttoned in back,
Two wine-red boots that rose to thigh,
A burgundy ribbon in her long black hair,
A silver necklace at her nape,
That housed a ruby stone beyond compare,
Of any found in the Emerald Cape.
On her wrists she wore silver cuffs,
On her ears hung two shards of claret glass,
Her eyes were brown and filled with lust,
On her neck were three bite wounds from the past,
Like the wolves of frost and snow,
Her teeth were bared and sharp,
As she gazed upon the town below,
With ill intent in her gluttonous heart.
Though much prey rest below,
Sleeping in their mortal homes,
The traveler thought them weak to hunt,
And journeyed to the church above.
Her target was a holy man,
Who only followed God’s command.
She aimed to spill his sacred blood,
Among others of his brotherhood,
So her name would be immortalized,
Among the brethren of her kind,
For so conflicted would be a monk,
With everlasting demon soul,
Feeding on the blood of men,
That used to pay his churches’ toll,
Who had no choice but to thrive,
With the creatures of the night,
That every time God’s word he spoke,
He’d bring himself eternal woe.
The woman quickly made her way,
Up the churches’ stony path,
Until she reached the humble quarters,
Of the monk and gazed inside at last.
There she saw a flickering candle,
Burning tall and bright,
And the pious man beside his bed,
Reading scriptures into the night.
His features were fair,
His dress was modest,
He wore only a pair of russet pants,
His chest was bare,
Save his greatest treasure,
A silver cross that hung around his neck.
The woman made her presence known,
And walked through the wall of the good monk’s home.
The man did not divert his gaze,
When he asked the pale-skinned traveler,
“What business do you have,
in the town church at this hour?”
The woman frowned and coolly replied,
“That should be obvious to anyone with half a mind.”
The man’s green eyes did not leave the bible,
They followed the psalms left to right;
And this cut into the black heart of the woman,
Like a jagged, sharp-edged knife.
“Well, have you nothing to say, good monk?”
“At least stare me in the eyes,
before I lead you to
your inevitable demise.”
The monk ran his long fingers,
Through his dark brown hair,
And then held up his cross,
Leaving his neckline bare.
“My lady, I would gladly look upon thee,
if there were something worthwhile to see.”
“However, it is the scriptures that captivate me
so go drown your ambitions in the Adrian Sea.”
The woman’s eyes turned red with anger;
Her fangs grew long in the good monk’s room.
“I have heard of you before this night,
from the dark trees of the wood,
that have tried to tempt you to no avail,
and have thus allowed your kindness to prevail.”
“You are said to be the holiest man in all Europe,
and this is what brings me here tonight.”
“You think you are righteous man, but very soon,
you will become a creature of the night!”
The woman crept toward the man,
Venom dripping from her fangs,
With her arms flailing wildly about,
Like a spider ready to kill its prey.
The man did not let his gaze fall from scripture,
The source of heavens love,
As he chanted ancient verses,
To his lord in heaven above.
The woman crept near the monk,
And pushed his holy book aside,
The pages burned her pearlescent flesh,
Scaring her hands that fateful night.
The man held his cross and chanted hymns,
The woman drew closer and grabbed his neck,
She moved her cold fingers along the cord,
And snapped his last testament in half,
The cross fell and was swatted away,
The man closed his eyes and began to pray,
The woman caressed his face with seductive touch,
The man cried out for heaven’s love,
The woman gave him a fatal kiss,
The man’s body could not resist,
As the woman injected her venomous tongue,
Burning with envy, greed and lust.
The man couldn’t pull away,
His body was numb and his eyes half blind,
But he continued to recite,
The scriptures in his mind.
His frail body began to ache,
As the woman’s blood filled his veins,
But the strength of his heart,
Kept all dark thoughts at bay.
She bit his neck and spilled his blood;
It trickled to the floor like a black river.
His thirst became for her blood too,
And he bit her throat under the harvest moon.
Her blood he drank,
It coursed through his soul,
But it did not turn black,
Like her own.
She gave him pleasure and pain,
As she returned to skillfully taking the blood from his veins.
Without control he continued to bite her too,
And in the late evening,
The good monk was subdued.
Her sinister job complete,
The woman held him tenderly,
As a mother treats its newborn babe,
And sealed his wounds carefully,
With the golden crest of Cain.
She grinned to herself and waited there,
Stoking the good monk’s matted hair.
All at once he awoke with a start,
With pale skin and a reborn heart,
That thirsted for blood and his short hair grew,
To his waist where it turned to a darker hue,
Of brown and his eyes turned dark as night,
Though they were still green in the middle around the iris,
And his teeth grew to fangs long and white.
His first breaths were torment,
And he pulled his hair,
With his long white fingers,
When he saw the woman standing there.
“How could you do this to me?”
“I am a man of the lord,
and I can never touch,
my holy relics again!”
“How dare you take my cross from me,
and then my book and decency?”
“You are a monster,
a servant of Cain,
and I never want you,
in my sight again!”
The woman laughed a dark laugh,
That would have turned the purest heart to dust.
“Now you are one of us.”
“There is nothing you can do,
to satisfy your thirst,
outside killing the innocent. “
“You may try hunting animals at first,
but it is human blood you will eventually taste.”
“And once you drink mortal blood,
you shall never go back,
for there is no mercy for a man,
with a soul that’s black.”
The man picked up his cross,
Though it burned in his hand,
And told the woman to leave,
With a harsh command.
He cried out the scripture,
Though it burned in his mouth,
Until the woman left his modest house.
When the woman left he threw down the cross;
The burn almost reached his very bone.
He tried to pick up his holy book,
But it burst into flame;
Horror filled his blackened eyes,
As he put it out with his sleeping mat.
He was now the thing,
That he loathed the most;
A brother of Cain,
And no psalm could heal his soul,
From the venomous sins,
That plagued his veins.
His thirst grew wild,
He thrashed about,
He needed blood right then,
Without a doubt.
The beast within was let unleashed,
And he drank the blood of all the priests,
That had taken him in from an early age,
Before the starry night turned to day.
One after another they fell that night;
They could not fight the ravenous monster,
So they all died under the pale moonlight.
When the sun crept over the horizon,
And shone on the monastery below,
The man’s wit returned,
And he saw his blood stained home.
All of the people he had once loved were dead;
A few had been torn to shreds,
Some had been beaten beyond recognition,
And still others had severed heads.
He knew at once that he was to blame,
And he tried to take his life,
But as what happens often in fate’s cruel game,
He found irony in his strife,
For while he could freely murder the innocent,
Nothing could end his heathen life.
He knew that he couldn’t stay at his home,
Smeared with blood and sin,
So he burned the church in ceremony,
And then sought to fight the beast within.
He sought the help of a well-known priest
Whose monastery dwelled in the east.
He begged the priest to seal him away,
So he could not live to kill another day.
The priest knew of one spell,
That eternally bound the creatures of hell,
Though he warned the monk that he would forever sleep,
And that god’s kingdom he would never see.
The monk said it was just as well,
For death would bring him only hell.
The priest solemnly agreed to do the task,
And bound the man with a spell at last.
He lit seven candles big to small,
With one deadly sin inscribed on them all,
Which each represented the monk’s inner beast,
And then laid the poor monk down to sleep.
Then the monk’s body was laid to rest,
In a coffin surrounded by roses and lit incense.
One by one the candles were blown out,
And the spell was completed by a final shout,
Of the priest to God to seal the coffin away,
And the monk’s tomb was shut in the church to stay,
Forever hidden from mortal gaze.
There the monk dreamed for ages,
Of the sins he had committed in the past,
And the years crept by, one by one,
Until his story faded into legend and myth.
A hundred years later,
A woman with scarlet hair,
Journeyed to the monk’s tomb,
With a scroll of prayer.
Her complexion was fair,
Her heart was true,
Her soul shone bright,
Behind eyes of blue.
She opened the door
To the room unaware,
That the monk from the past,
Was resting there.
She had mistaken the room,
For the church’s basement,
Where she wished to return,
Her scroll to a silver casement.
She whistled a hymn from the morning sermon,
As she lit the candles one by one.
The light revealed a bare room,
Save one broken shelf and a wooden tomb.
Just when she wondered who rested there,
The monk from the past arose from his sleep,
And his gaze fell upon the maiden fair.
“What happened; is this a dream?”
He asked the trembling woman before him.
She shook her head and replied shakily,
“No, this is modern London.”
She then gained the courage to ask,
“Who are you and why are you here?”
The monk mournfully replied,
“I am here because I can never die.”
“The priest, Sir. Mathen, put me under a spell,
so I could never again do the works of hell.”
“I hoped here forever my body would lie,
but now I wish that I could have died.”
“Eternal sleep torments me,
and now heaven’s grace I will never see.”
The fair lady,
Felt pity for the man,
And she caressed his face,
With her gentle hand.
“Oh dear sir,
how sad this is,
to say that you wish
that you had never lived!”
“What is it that you could have done
that makes you want to die so much?”
“The lord forgives,
this I know,
so don’t be sad good sir,
The man’s heart was stirred,
And tears came fourth,
For the gentle woman,
Was the only person in one hundred years,
That had tried to reach out to him.
He took her hands in his own,
And drew her slender body close.
“Oh precious thing,
your words are sweet,
they stir my soul and heart alike.”
“I am deeply moved that you care for me,
but I must live a cursed life,
because I have killed in cold blood,
and I do not deserve your love.”
Just then the beast within awoke,
And the monk’s eyes turned from green to red,
For he saw the woman’s veins pulsing beneath her flesh,
And sinful thoughts rushed through his head.
He gently pushed the lass aside,
And begged her to run and leave him be,
To suffer alone in solitude,
For the rest of eternity,
For he could not control the monster,
That hid beneath his immortal flesh,
But the girl refused to leave his side,
And took his hands in her own instead.
“Oh, poor creature I will help you battle,
whatever beast dwells within your tainted heart,
so let me help you and I give you my word,
that my faith in you will never part.”
The monk’s thirst grew wild but he held it back,
As the girl laid her hands upon his chest,
And prayed for his pious soul,
To be released from the icy grip of Cain.
The monk’s body felt weighted down,
And he was forced slowly to the concrete ground,
As the woman with heart brave and true,
Prayed for his soul black and crude.
Then a miracle occurred that day,
That the monk could scarce believe himself,
For an angel appeared before the girl,
And lent her heaven’s help.
The angel sung an ancient song,
That shook the beast within the monk,
And he fell to the floor hastily,
Convulsing from the shock.
The angel with silver robes,
And hair as white as winter snow,
Moved her hands above the good monk’s body,
As quick as they could go.
She smiled at the woman,
Who watched in awestruck wonder,
As she separated the bloodhound from the man,
With a flash of magic thunder.
The beast howled and growled,
And gnawed upon its own front paws,
As the angel sealed it away forevermore,
Beyond the realm of hell’s front door.
The monk gasped his first mortal breath,
That he had taken in one hundred years,
And then he proceeded to weep,
Many joyful tears,
As the angel gave a humble bow,
And then a smile filled with love,
Before returning to God’s kingdom,
In the mystic realm above
Then the young woman with scarlet hair,
Caught a glimpse of the young monk laying there.
His dark hair had turned to a beautiful blonde,
And his eyes to a frosty mint green,
The color had returned to his skin,
And had turned dark red around his cheeks.
The woman helped the monk off the ground,
And the two gazed in each other’s eyes for the first time.
The young monk stroked the woman’s hair,
And took her hands in his own,
For his happiness was more than he could contain;
The woman smiled warmly,
And gently stroked the young man’s face,
And the monk and priest’s daughter,
Fell in love that day.
The two left the church,
And settled in the countryside,
Where they both worked the land,
And were married in due time.
The monk loved the woman,
Who had saved his mortal life,
And the priest’s daughter,
I must admit, made a lovely wife.
Both were blessed,
Though both had sinned,
And were given never ending life.
As for the she beast,
Who had cursed the monk,
Five hundred years ago,
In a town in Northern Ireland,
Before the autumn leaves turned to snow,
The monk found her and all her kin,
Sealed away in unmarked tombs,
That his lovely wife had traced,
And they both later exhumed.
On a faded scroll,
Placed upon the she beast’s grave,
Were the words, “For my friend,”
Left without a date or name.
Some say it was the souls of the priests,
That the monk had killed long ago,
Who finally found their peace,
By sealing the evil in the ground below,
Still others say it was the angel,
Who helped the pious man,
By banishing all the evil spirits
To cursed and untouched lands.
But this I will leave up to you to decide,
Because the true message of this tale,
Is that where evil is present,
Good will always prevail.