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Fantasy story

Decay – Fantasy Story

Decay. Everywhere. The stink of it swirled like a cloying mist, penetrating my clothes, my lungs, my hair. I had never gotten used to and I did not expect to. Anger courses through me. Anger at being back here. Anger at being summoned. But worst of all for the feeling of anticipation that pulses through my body. The taste of bitter copper on my tongue, overwhelming the stench of decay. It had been too long and too short since my last summoning. A love hate relationship I hear you ask. Yes. Almost the perfect definition of such a thing.

The road. Path. Muddy track was unchanged from the last time I had walked it. It always seemed to me that the rain had just stopped and was due to restart any moment soon. I shake my head and walk the last few steps down the path, lean through the dark recess and push the ancient, rotting door open. It squeaks and groans agonisingly as it reluctantly eases back providing a meagre crack through which I squeeze. I hear the first rain drops hitting the rotting leave behind me as I push the door closed behind me.

Disorientated, I stand still in the darkness until a single candle flickers and gutters on a table at the far of the room. I walk up to the table, put both hands down on the table, lean forward, thrusting my head forward.

“What? What do you want? Why call me again? I told you it was over.”

A soft wheezing chuckle greets my snarl.

“You find my discomfort funny?”

“You did not have to come.” the voice is soft as always, seductive, enticing and completely unnatural. In the silence I can hear the ever present wheeze. It is the one thing that never changes.

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