Marie Turner (Requriem)
The sounds from the outside world were blocked through the thick stone walls with in the cathidral. Only the faint electrical hum of the lights could be herd over Maries quiet foot steps. She turned and opened an old door that creeked in protest to its movement. Lighted rushed in to the tiny dark chapel, eager to touch everything before she could. Carefully she lit the rows of candles that sat piled at the feet of a crusifix. Soon the room had enough warm glow to it that she could shut the door. After wiping off the dust from the pew before the glow, she knelt. From under the pad she pulled a knife and drew it across both wrists then clasped them in prayer, letting the blood drip drop by drop into a bowl below. For centuries monks had believed that blood letting would get out the evil in a person and was also a way to get closer to God.
"Our Father," She began. After the years this prayer became as natural as feeding. As she spoke she kept her eyes on the face of Christ, gazing heavenward with that always loving look in his eyes. Once again silence filled the room. No humming in here. Ever few second it was broke by the wet splat of another drop of blood diving into the bowl. Faintly she could hear steps approaching from behind her. They were confidant and slow. Then the familiar voice spoke,
"Il mio bambino bello, venite ancora una volta. Come amo sentire la vostra voce e vederlo inginocchiarsi all'alterazione. Mi ricorda della notte che ci siamo tenuti e che abbiamo battuto sui cancelli di cielo." Warmth crawled along her back as the edges of her site flickered with flames. But still she kept her eyes on the crusifix. Kept her gaze there because she knew that if she looked away he would vanish. "Your faith is what keeps you so pure, safe, and close to me. One day our kingdoms will unite, and you will finaly be able to join me." A soft hand guided hot fingers along her jaw line, down her neck, and across her shoulders. Another hand joined it as they glided down her arms and clasped her hands. It made her blood burn with holy fire. "Siete il mio strumento. La mia arma." Lips pressed into the nape of her neck and scorched a kiss into her skin. "Amen."
With a blink it was all gone. The blood had stopped dripping and the cuts were heals. She smiled and wiped the tracks of blooded tears from her cheeks.
"Our Father," She began. After the years this prayer became as natural as feeding. As she spoke she kept her eyes on the face of Christ, gazing heavenward with that always loving look in his eyes. Once again silence filled the room. No humming in here. Ever few second it was broke by the wet splat of another drop of blood diving into the bowl. Faintly she could hear steps approaching from behind her. They were confidant and slow. Then the familiar voice spoke,
"Il mio bambino bello, venite ancora una volta. Come amo sentire la vostra voce e vederlo inginocchiarsi all'alterazione. Mi ricorda della notte che ci siamo tenuti e che abbiamo battuto sui cancelli di cielo." Warmth crawled along her back as the edges of her site flickered with flames. But still she kept her eyes on the crusifix. Kept her gaze there because she knew that if she looked away he would vanish. "Your faith is what keeps you so pure, safe, and close to me. One day our kingdoms will unite, and you will finaly be able to join me." A soft hand guided hot fingers along her jaw line, down her neck, and across her shoulders. Another hand joined it as they glided down her arms and clasped her hands. It made her blood burn with holy fire. "Siete il mio strumento. La mia arma." Lips pressed into the nape of her neck and scorched a kiss into her skin. "Amen."
With a blink it was all gone. The blood had stopped dripping and the cuts were heals. She smiled and wiped the tracks of blooded tears from her cheeks.