Photography by Svetlana Belyaeva click HERE for website.
Written for "Telling Tales with Magaly Guerrero: a Pantry of Prose # 7 Gothic Fiction
over at Poets United. & for the Sunday Muse # 71
Come join us!
I would fulfill my wildest dream of material possessions, that I might hear my soul wailing through marble halls. ~Muriel Strode
Written for "Telling Tales with Magaly Guerrero: a Pantry of Prose # 7 Gothic Fiction
over at Poets United. & for the Sunday Muse # 71
Come join us!
I would fulfill my wildest dream of material possessions, that I might hear my soul wailing through marble halls. ~Muriel Strode
312 Word Count 😊
Queen Margery
learned more of death than she did of life, when it came to all the queens
before her. The Castle Gerard was known
for its curse, and the strange death of all that walked its halls confirming
the truth in the rumors that spread throughout Garrison Town.
The Villagers that
resided outside Garrison lived in a certain poverty. Money was scarce and food scarcer, but no
matter how hungry the people remained, they preferred to live in their squalor
existence than high and mighty in the Castle of Doom, as some would say.
Margery had been
hearing the voices around her, not just from the people of town, but the other
voices, the ones that spoke in the halls at night. “What is wrong my lady?” asked Agnes her
lady-in-waiting, who took care of her every need. “You seem upset.” She added. Margery simply shook her hand at her to go,
knowing that she could not tell her, although Agnes truly knew.
The voices were
what killed Queen Beatrice, but not the way one would think. The voices drove her mad, and her madness
drove her to her death. Jumping off the
cliff of Laurel Manor. It is said that
the voices of all the elite that came before her are the ghostly voices that
whisper to the mad. Each soul is lulled
by the souls before to join them in their brood of greed and madness.
Margery felt both
attraction and disdain for the whispered words that made her long for darkness,
pulling her closer and closer to the edge of sane. She slipped away in the night feeling a hot
rush of pain and pleasure come over her, as she too jumped into the sea that
the voices told her was were her true fortune lied. Greed has always been a liar to those who are
its fool.
