Once, after the longest day of numeric chatter, to and fro - the former, the latter.
I find solace in a cushioned air-loom of silver lining, in this inherited home by the sea, where pleasant dreams were entwining.
In the early hours during a relaxing slumber, awoken was I -by heavy thunder. Disturbed from a dream of blissful wonder, that ended with the sighting of an ancestor. How strange, I thought in the dreary, while I could not comprehend quite clearly; this untimely presence I query.
Referring to my great uncle Lee - the ancestor of whom appeared to me, whose unmistakable scar ridden face hangs via portrait near the balcony. Often I marvel at this drawing so compelling, so compelling is an apparent existence in its embedding.
Ah how I recall every saintly winter night, when father would whisper stories beneath the portrait glowing candle bright. The flames swayed to the rhymic toned thrills portrayed. "Be wary young one, Lee hath offending", was the common conclusive ending.
What intriguing stories I was told - of his life, a fool, yet bold. A depraved misguided soul, to which each tale will unfold. The question of truthfulness was of no bother as only the rarest of times was I with father - taken by a war unlike no other.
One tale struck me most - referring to his constant sightings of plasmic ghosts. How he claimed his body was but a host, that he was just ancestral post. Furthermore his murders were but the doing - of dead relatives avenging, pursuing. Seeking justice upon the descendants of the once pursuing.
Then large gusts of wind caused the balcony doors a cracking! Swung open by the fury with raindrops upon my skin just barely. In through the seaside, lit by the thunderous light, floating in - a collection of dark red colours in a ball of might. An uninvited en masse of mystery in flight.
The shape turned before mine eyes into a human form floating, recognizable and unmistakable was great uncle Lee returning! A deadly hum shook the bedposts too burning, his figurative hand pointed and vibrations taunted "Thou do my bidding". Deep and solemn was this haunting.
Shaken, shaken to the core was I, over this baritone flying high. Even with every limb trembling I found an inner strength and replied. "Uncle Lee!" I stuttered. "What brings thee from the inner realms of Hades? Long ago thou presence faded, what was that thou uttered?"
With no consideration - and certainly no moments hesitation. Lee sent forth "Thou do my bidding" occupying a vibration. Linking history then to this phrase so eerily spoken I, be stilled my heart and thought in silence now unbroken.
Pray tell what bidding is this ancestral spirit thinking, as grasping hands structure his upper facial scarring. His eyes reveal a lineage of unfulfilled dreams and missing stars. Visions of father falling at Arras. The torched incorporeal being was fuming - leaving this receded scalp to singeing.
Unintentionally then, I drifted monotonously into his spirit haze. Falling into an abyss of fires a-blaze. The echoes through Tartaraus were screams, those from his unfortunate victims - it seems. In that moment Lee bestowed the vision of his desires, uncounted acts of maiming, torturing poor souls with fires.
Glass shattering screams emerged from the depths of my soul, able to break the tension I recaptured myself in whole. Now regrouping with emotions upturning and all within me yearning, for the certain end of this horror that float above me beaming.
"Enough! Enough of this madness, go back from whence thou soared. Dark and disturbed spirit from thy families days of yore, I give then warning as if courtesy opened that balcony door. Thou presence here is unwanted, back with thee to the shore!"
This outburst wrought only a grinning, a horrid grinning - as my attention diverted to the portrait now dripping, melting. Each and every uneven drop of burgundy on the marble floor thickened heart pounding thrills never felt before - overshadowing the sorrow for the lost sentiment of yore.
Sequenced in collusion was this orchestra of horror, along with his wry haunting grin leaving no reflection the mirror. Decided then that this fear was the extent of Lees length, uprightly I sat prepared to again combat this apparitions strength.
"Prepare to be gone oh servant of Lucifer!" Was my opening in this bid to be free. "This soul is not for thou, nor was my father and before he! Dearly departed one knew more than what thou thought of such a venturous spree!"
Poised to lunge - is the feeling, only to notice the sea breeze more than chilling. A look down confirming the bed and I were levitating! I slowly return a stare to the phantasm which still is floating and still is repeating "thou do my bidding".
The terrors were now dimming the source of my being, as countless Lampedes march about this dreaming. Resigning now to a fate prescribed by such a haunting, I lay down madly laughing. Helpless was this outpour as now this apparent deathbed spins more and more!
Hope was releasing and sent forth into the sea air, however before too late a shining halted the progression of this despair. "The sun appearing, surely this will release me, if only temporarily, from this forebear."
Then behold the vision disappeared as though time had no law, the once flamed posts were back to its wooden core. The portrait now an impossible stain on the marble floor to be removed nevermore.