The One Rule

There was only one rule – don’t open the door.

Yet here he stood, with a flame flickering in the draught that slithered through the frozen stones. It cast a dancing yellow halo around the markings engraved deep within the panelling.

Brother Elias pulled the heavy drape aside further, bony fingers trembling, before sliding the bolt back silently. He paused, certain the Abbot, suspicious even in sleep, would hear the thundering echoes in his chest. But only the dull dripping of icicles succumbing to early spring could be heard beyond the chapel walls, and no moon as witness.

Only God…perhaps.

If it were God’s rule, His wrath or reward would be His alone to deliver and he would accept it willingly. The paradox of forbidden knowledge tortures dreams and unravels faith - it was necessary to Know.

Warmth and intoxicating aromas engulfed his senses as the door swung open easily to reveal a paradise. He had never before beheld such marvels; birds of iridescent hues, crystal cascades and gushing streams of golden fish, orchards of fruits shimmering like jewels, and unearthly figures singing melodies that amplified his soul.

An angelic form approached smiling, hands extended. “Taste. And you shall know.”

He sank his teeth into the fruit’s sweet flesh, unleashing waves of desire and dread. The vision twisted, colours darkened, figures morphed into grotesque creatures, eyes malevolent, and a stench so overwhelmingly putrid Elias gagged, falling back. The door closed.

He sensed the wax scalding his flesh rather than felt it. The absence of light was oppressive; fog floating through the cloister appeared to follow him as he scurried back to his room. Elias lit another candle and filled his bowl. As the ripples settled, the reflection in the still water was not his own.