Amber's Lament

Amber’s mind drifted languidly as she gazed at the flames frolicking in the fireplace across the living room. They appeared to be

performing a decadent dance before her half-opened eyes, gyrating in the most mesmerizing of gestures. As she mused upon this

she chuckled aloud. Their impromptu performance was more likely

the effect of the half-empty decanter on the table beside her. It was

shaped like a dragon and the shadows from the flames made it appear to be breathing smoke from its jagged jaws. The ruby liquid inside it reminded her of blood, enticing her to take another healthy

draught. Its fragrant aroma lingering deliciously in her nostrils.

Ebbing and flowing, drifting on the edges of her haze, Amber

reached for the decanter to top off her chalice. This was no ordinary

evening. And the spell she was under was of no ordinary doing. The

flickering hearth enchanted her, and she gave into its call, allowing it

to beckon her, lure her, lull her… her eyes getting heavier with each

second that passed, until she finally she fell into a drunken stupor.

Some time later she awoke with a start, her hair disheveled and

her head throbbing. A faint tapping on the windowpane had aroused

her from her slumber. Her compromised senses barely registered the

diminished shadows. Only echoes of the once roaring flames filled

the room now. The embers doing more to enthrall her than their

blazing counterparts ever could have.

With exaggerated effort, Amber managed to disengage herself

from the divan. The crocheted afghan she’d been curled up in fell to

her bare feet as she shakily stood up. She staggered towards the window, where the tapping had increased to an incessant scratching. In

response to its fury, she tipped the goblet to her lips, finishing its

contents in one hasty gulp. She wiped her stained lips with an

abrupt swipe on her sleeve. A few scarlet droplets dribbled onto

the floor, getting lost in the intricate weave of the oriental rug

covering the hardwood.

Through the window she imagined she could discern a face.

She had to scrunch her eyes tightly and stare at it closely to make

out its visage. A veil of oak leaves enshrouded its head like a pall.

Its eyes blazed a fierce ochre. As she scrutinized its semblance,

its features became more readily defined. Behind her she could

hear each tick of the grandfather clock. She could almost make

out the contours of its face. Peering closer she gasped, realizing

the face of a man stared back at her. His hands were pressed

firmly to the glass, and she could clearly see the grime that caked

the ridges of his fingernails.

Amber found it difficult to break his gaze, even though

her heart thumped erratically and her breathes came in ragged

gasps. Slowly she raised her palms to mirror his outstretched

hands. Outside, the wind howled and raged, and the dying

flames in the hearth hissed. His hands began to pulsate beneath

the glass. Her gaze fell instinctively to his lips. They were full and

lush, and they moved almost imperceptibly, as the wind caressed

his cheeks. His naked body had a ghastly green tint, and his skin

seemed to glow. Unaware of what she was doing, she silently

disrobed.

Within seconds the figure pulled Amber inexplicably

through the intact glass. She recoiled at the coldness of his

touch. His smile turned to a sneer. Amber watched in disbelief,

as his lips descended upon hers, and their bodies coupled in the

briefest embrace, then quickly parted; the seed having been bestowed.

His voice rose to an unearthly pitch, his words deafening as he recited a chant. “Lovely Maiden, bedecked in white, with skirts that billow in the breeze, take this soul and release mine, now I’ll walk freely among the trees.”

Amber’s limbs began to feel numb, as though the blood flowing

within her veins were hardening. An icy chill racked her bones. Her

eyes opened wider as her body slowly contorted and entwined with

that of the nearby oak tree. She watched in horror as the man released his grip on her gnarled hands. Tears of agony coursed down

her bark covered face as she struggled to move.

The man threw back his head and cackled, and the wind suddenly became less violent. Amber stood rooted in place as he sauntered towards the door of the empty house. Faint shadows played on

the walls within. Whistling to himself, the man disappeared into the

darkness, and closed shut the door behind him.

Amber’s frustrated wails could be heard for miles, and although

they remained unanswered, they were soon shushed away by the

wind.